Forbidden Dreams Novels & Stories

She wiped her eyes before she played another song and song along with it. “There was a time when men were kind...When their voices were soft...And their words inviting...There was a time when love was blind...And the world was a song...And the song was exciting...There was a time..Then it all went wrong..I dreamed a dream in times gone by...When hope was high and life worth living...I dreamed, that love would never die...I dreamed that God would be forgiving...Then I was young and unafraid...And dreams were made and used and wasted...There was no ransom to be paid....No song unsung, no wine untasted...But the tigers come at night...With their voices soft as thunder...As they tear your hope a

​"You've been dying to taste my cock, haven't you? Tell me the truth." ​I pulled back just enough to free my mouth, my lips slick and glistening, a string of saliva breaking between my lips and his cock. I looked up at him, my eyes completely broken, entirely conquered by the illusion. ​"Yes," I cried out softly, a broken sob catching in my throat. "Yes, I wanted it. I wanted it so bad I was actually looking forward to my dream tonight. Since it's wrong for me to have you in real life… I just want to have you in my dreams. Can't I at least have that?"

He sat up, breathing hard, trying to process the filthy dream that had felt far too real. His heart hammered against his ribs while the explicit images from the dream refused to fade, Mia’s mouth wrapped around his cock, her husky whisper calling him “Daddy,” the wet heat of her throat. Why the hell am I dreaming about her? It made no sense. It was wrong in every possible way. Forbidden. Mia was completely off-limits, a line he had drawn in stone years ago and sworn never to cross. Yet the dream had felt so vivid, so dangerously real.

I asked. He looked at me and rolled his eyes, “Three months, perhaps.” He answered. “You have the worse luck getting sex, now Anna is going to date you, but won’t let you touch her.” I said. “That’s hilarious.” I added. He turned facing the ceiling, he laughed “You’re crazy” he said to me. “I could get sex if I want, I could get down with any girl in a club if I ever wanted.” “You have been sex-starved Andy. How about we do it together?” I said looking at his face “It won’t be weird, we have known each other for long, its better hooking up with a stranger just to get pleasure.”

The fantasy has been with me since I was fifteen. Not the violence. Not the fear. But the idea of being taken. Kept. Used until I forget who I was before. Until my old life feels like a dream and the only reality is him – whoever he is, whatever he wants, however he chooses to use me. I could never explain it to vanilla partners. The few times I tried, I saw the judgment in their eyes. The concern. The way they looked at me differently afterward, like I was broken. Damaged. Something to be fixed.

"Molly, if he's your mate, you have to be careful. You should reject it! You can't let a man who was just your mother's suitor, an old dude, become your everything. It's scandalous! It's messy! Your the Alpha’s child…" A bitter laugh escaped my lips, and a tear pricked the corner of my eye. "Reject it? Elara, it's not that simple. It's not just a feeling. It's... it's physical. Every night, when the house is quiet, I have these... dreams. Wet,-aching dreams about him. About his hands, his scent, the way he looks at me."

Fino a perdere tutti i tuoi sensi: Until you lose all your senses. Non ci sarà pietà, solo piacere: There will be no mercy, only pleasure

In that moment, I sensed a connection, a forbidden alliance that transcended the boundaries of our vampire-wolf union. The dream seemed to stretch on, the shadows weaving a narrative that my waking mind resisted. A clandestine meeting in the heart of the enchanted forest, where moonlight and shadows danced in a forbidden waltz. The wolf, a creature of the night like me, stood as a symbol of discord, an unsettling mistress that threatened the fragile balance of our kingdoms.

I closed my eyes and passed out again. The dreams began on my eighteenth birthday. I was too embarrassed to ask my father about the dreams, and then he died and I had no one to talk to. We’d shared everything, but this was different. The dreams felt so real. Maybe I could have spoken to Mira about it, but what mortified me most was that I had two separate men in my dreams. Not multiple because it was pure fantasy but two distinct males who worshipped my body and filled my head with fantasies which I had no idea where they came from. I would dream of one or the other every night.

What was meant to be a gesture of affection had now become a symbol of her unease and growing anxiety. The roses that once symbolized love and beauty were now a source of dread for her. She began to have troubling dreams where the red roses seemed to multiply, surrounding her and engulfing her in a sea of crimson. These nightmares left her restless, and she often awoke in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat.