Fragile Desires Novels & Stories

I insist. She bit her lip arresting the mewl. "I really don't have any." She said with a hint of desperation as if she were afraid of what might spill from her lips. "Sweet Cakes I am your husband and there is nothing to feel shy about discussing your desires with your husband." I spread her lips to find the tiny, swollen nub at the core of her and applied a little pressure with my fingers. Her wild breath charged my blood. "Do you fantasize about being fucked by two men? Two cocks at once? One in your mouth, one in your pussy? Or perhaps, one in your pussy and one in your ass?" She shook her head wildly, a genuine distaste in her expression. "I only dream about you." She tells me going frag

“Just once. Please.” No. No, no, no. His eyes were wild. His skin burning hot. The scent hit me like a wave—sweet, cloying, thick like syrup. It wrapped around my head, messed with my focus. Like a drug I didn’t want to breathe in. I jerked, kicked, cursed, but he was too strong. His fingers slipped under my shirt, shaky and desperate. His body trembled above mine. “I think it’ll stop if I just have you once,” he muttered, leaning in like he was drunk on something I couldn’t see. “If I taste you. Just once, Tate. Please—I need it—”

He just nods, absorbing the information the way he’d absorb any other fact about me, and something in that plainness undoes me more completely than any grand gesture ever could. “Thank you for not looking at me like I’m something fragile.” “You’re the least fragile person I’ve ever met.” The certainty in his voice makes my breath catch. “Fragile people don’t survive what you survived and still walk into rooms full of dangerous strangers and make them fall silent.” “Sometimes I feel fragile. Some mornings I wake up and the ten seconds before I remember my own leg exist are the only ten seconds of the day I feel like the person I was supposed to become. Then I remember, and the whole day rearr

A girl in a white shirt and a pair of red trousers walked to the table with a rack of drinks and a bucket of ice. I turned my attention to the stripper whose shape was like an hour glass, though slender like a domestic cat, and her skin was glossy like polished glass. She had bouncy, apple shaped breasts with a tattoo in the space between them. There was fluidity in her movement as she swirled around the pole mounted inside the cage. She put her head down and raised her legs up. She slowly parted her legs. With one hand, she balanced herself at a spot and the other hand somehow found its way to her groin area. The index finger of her free hand got lost inside her panties and when it came out

After a few drinks, he finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. Throwing an arm over my shoulder, he hesitated before speaking, "Bro, you still remember what I offered last time?" The meaning was obvious. My heart skipped, and I shook his hand off, refusing firmly, "No way." As I expected, he still hadn't given up. "I don't trust anyone else with her, bro… Please, help me just this once…" he said, gripping my arm, looking at me with desperate hope. Seeing how unsteady he seemed, I pried his fingers off one by one and spoke seriously, "I can help her take private photos, but if we sleep together, things will become different. You get what I'm saying?"

I said. "When everyone called me names, bullied me and refused to feed me, you protected me. Though it was a misconception, you were never ashamed of being associated with me. I had fallen, but I was waiting for you to come through. You never did, so I buried my feelings, believing you had given me all I would get. Then, James, you came through, barrelling through my emotions, sweeping me off my feet. I embraced your love, and I believed it. I fell so hard, and I was glad. It was beautiful even though I believed it wouldn't last, and it was for the meantime, until your parents returned; I was glad for the happy memories I would have before you got married to Emily. But then Caspian came and

Desire explained. “Fang is a manipulative woman. She sees herself as a seductress whose only job is to keep on seducing Sylvester till she succeeds and becomes his wife. Sylvester didn’t mean to push you away, Desire. He was sorry he did. He was sorry he believed Fang for s minute and he regretted his actions” Desire continued eating, drank her water and refused to give a comment on what Ying had said. Her heart, body and soul longed for him. Hearing that he regretted his actions was enough for her to relieve herself of the burden of trying to hate him for days.

A fragile flame, a flickering light in my abyss. A hope I desperately try to deny. I impose this fire, this storm on her. Because I don't know how to love otherwise. Because I don't know how to show weakness. Because I believe showing my fragility condemns her. She feels my demons, even if she doesn't know it yet. She dances on the edge of my abyss, dangerously close to the chasm. Every night, I push her a little closer to the void, knowing that if she falls, she will drag me down with her.

“It grounds me. It is like your heat drives the cold out of me. Do not stop.” Jake’s hand slid up to her breasts. Her nipples were hard, and when he brushed them with his fingertips, Sadira’s hips lifted instinctively from the bed. The vibrating energy around her shifted. The crackling softened, replaced by a deeper, pulsing rhythm, the rhythm of desire.

With closed eyes and heavy breaths, she eagerly awaited that first kiss, parting her lips to invite him in. Frustration consumed her as she still didn't feel his lips. She furrowed her brows in confusion and opened her eyes to an empty space . Disappointment flooding over her. It was just another hallucination, leaving her burning with unfulfilled desire. Slamming her hand onto the basin platform, she closed her eyes, attempting to regain composure. Anger surged within as she blamed herself for again thinking of him. Determined to break free from his hold, she glared at herself in the mirror. desperate to quell her insatiable desires she Fixed her hair and stormed out of the washroom, ready