Novel & Cerita Fragile Desires

Still believing. “Look at me,” I say softly. He does. Immediately. Always. And for a second— just one— I see it. That flicker again. That hesitation. That crack. “Don’t do this,” I whisper. Silence. “Come back to me.” The words hang there. Fragile. Broken. Desperate. And for a moment— it almost works. His hand twitches slightly. His gaze shifts— like something inside him is fighting. Pushing.

he demands "no i havent, i cant my body it just wont, its desensitised its....... its broken. but that doesnt mean i dont want too, i still want to help you acheive yours" i say almost desperately these sensations are magnificent and i dont want him to stop, but he looks like hes about to walk out the door

Not with the overwhelming craving that held me captive. Using his thumb, he brushed my clit slightly. I buckled at the contact as powerful tremors rippled through me. There were times that I hated being so sensitive but this wasn't one of those times. While his fingers continued their torture, he adorned my neck with a few lingering kisses, then he pulled his head back so he could meet my gaze. His grey eyes were swimming with a desire so intense that it seemed eager to jump out and consume me, just his fingers intended to do. Looking at him was like being trapped in a trance with no promise of a way out. And the combination of that with his fingers working wonders on my clit was just too in

I said, “I am afraid I will unravel. I have always been composed, sensible and faithful. This feels reckless. It feels like standing at the edge of something vast and dangerous.” I lifted my gaze to the screen, though I could not see him clearly. “In the dreams, I am fearless. I let him guide me wherever he wants. I trust him completely. And that frightens me more than the desire itself. I do not want to be someone who loses herself in another person.” The quiet in the booth felt thoughtful, not condemning. “Desire can teach us about ourselves,” he said. “It can show us what we are missing, or what we fear. It is not the end of you unless you allow it to replace everything else.”

"You are crazy and madly delusional, I tell you. In a frenzy, we rolled and grappled on the floor, each one of us driven by our own strong desires; mine was the desire to attain my freedom as quickly as I possibly could no matter how much strength it would take me to achieve that goal, while Chase's desires were the selfish intentions of keeping me in his grasps for the rest of both of our lives.

I wanted it badly…no, needed it badly. Want is a HUGE understatement. Daniel pulled his fingers out, unzipped his pants, and took out his pretty long,tick,edible cock. It was long, veiny, and rock hard. He rubbed the fat head up and down my slippery slit, teasing my clit until I was whimpering. “Please…” I begged quietly. He gripped my hips and pushed inside me slowly. Inch by thick inch. My mouth fell open as he stretched me open. The burn felt so good. It was that feeling of pleasurable pain.

And those men got his signal, they came forward and grabbed that man with both hands. "Please forgive me, I was just doing my work, let me go." Before that man continue his pleading, the voice of cracking bone echoed in the room, and along with that painful scream of that man resonated. His man not only broke the bones of his fingers but his hand bones as well. They were present in the flat of that man. It's located in an abandoned area so no one was there to listen to his painful screaming. "Who gives you order and what was that order, don't try to utter a lie, otherwise..."

Despite how it hurt that night when he left, the dampness of my thighs told me that I was ready for him to take me again. [But wait. Was he going to leave me again after that?] My body stiffened, but his warm fingers rubbing against my bust, left a wild desire rampaging in me. In the heat of the moment, I wanted him to strip me and do whatever beastly stuff he wanted with me.

My heart hammers, my thighs ache, and all I can do is writhe in my own bed, furious and desperate in equal measure. “What am I doing?” I whisper into the dark, hating how broken my voice sounds. “What the hell is wrong with me?” But the answer is already there, coiled in my chest like a poison I can’t spit out. I want him. God help me, I want every dangerous, filthy, wrong part of him. To Be Continued...

“I don’t do romance, Stephen.” The words came out sharp, defensive. I hadn’t meant to sound angry, but I was. Not at him. At me. At this. “If you want,” I said, lifting my chin, “I can do meaningless sex. But that’s all I have to offer.” His eyes didn’t flinch. They softened. “I want everything, Claire,” he said. “I want tenderness, honesty, romance, love, and passion.” My heart squeezed so hard it felt like it might shatter. I couldn’t let him say things like that. Not to me. Not when I couldn’t give him what he wanted.