Fragile Desires Novels & Stories

My heart screamed, my pulse roared, and my mind was spinning in a dizzying mix of desire and fear. “Jade,” he murmured, low, throaty, possessive, “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. I’ve wanted you like this, like you’re about to combust under my touch. And I’m not leaving until you give in… until I know you feel the same fire.” My glasses slid down my nose again, and I pushed them up automatically, though I barely registered it. His hands brushed against mine, lingering, sending shivers up my spine. He was every dangerous fantasy I’d ever imagined. Every late-night craving. Every forbidden thought.

With your clothes on and your doors locked and me sleeping in the hallway if that's what it takes. The rain drummed against the glass. I sat in the bed, silk twisted around me, his warmth still lingering in the sheets, and felt something crack not the armor, but the foundation beneath it. The belief that all men were bastards, that all desire was transaction, that all tenderness was performance leading to taking. "I don't know how to believe you," I said. The admission cost me. "I don't know how to want someone without waiting for the moment they take more than I gave."

Because they did… they were almost black now, burning with raw desire and something possessive. “We are too far gone for you to want to back down now baby girl” he said, in his low and rough voice, like gravel. His face was so close she felt every word on her lips. “Now tell me what I want to hear. I know I will be the first man to enter here”

“I don’t need you to confirm it. Every time you look at him, you about swallow him alive with your eyes. You are too sweet, not to mention deep, to have a simple lust infatuation for my brother. With a woman like you, desire is linked to love or it wouldn’t be there.” And her desire was obvious to even Dash’s sister. No wonder both Dash and his mother were so sure of her. “A woman like me?” she repeated. What made her so different? “Are you saying you’re capable of wanting a man to make love to you that you don’t love?” She’d never felt free talking about this sort of stuff with her girlfriends at school. She’d always been too shy, but Elena had steamrolled right over her reticence and they

m. I haven’t even taken off my earrings. They sparkle in the dark, mocking me with their beauty. I lean against the headboard, arms around my knees, dress bunched up around me, and I wonder… how did I become this girl? The one who thought she was strong, but now feels like she’s breaking apart at the seams? And worse… why do I still miss him? I hate that I want to believe he didn’t mean it. I hate that some part of me is hoping this was all some twisted mistake. That he’ll show up at my door, eyes full of regret, voice soft and broken, telling me it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. That he didn’t mean it. That he loves me.

Rara fidgeted with her hands, her head hazy as blood rushed through her veins violently. She yearned to immerse herself in his very being, to get lost in his moments of vulnerability. Yearning for a taste of abandon, she wished to be consumed by the intoxication of his scented exhales. Her whole being trembled at the mere thought. Never before had she desired something with such fervor, this man being her ultimate craving. It felt morally wrong, yet she longed to embrace her inner rebel. All for him.

I lifted my hand slightly, calming him even as my own heart thundered. “You’re asking me to choose,” I said slowly. “Yes.” Mary’s voice softened. “They want to see which desire you value enough to anchor reality to.” “And the others?” I asked. “They will not be erased,” the second said. “But they will be… released.” The word felt hollow. I turned away from Elliot, forcing myself to breathe. All this time, desire had been danger because it was uncontrolled. Forbidden because it disrupted order. Now they wanted to use it.

And I couldn’t help but loathe myself, knowing that we wouldn’t have ended here if I didn’t become so fragile. I was staring at the ceiling, hands on top of my abdomen as I let my mind wander around. I gazed distantly, letting the thoughts pour out of my head so it would go away. It was already midnight, and I hadn’t slept because I was overthinking. I was moping over my failed relationship with the first man I’d ever had. If Dad was here, he could’ve tucked me to bed and tell me that everything would be fine. That somehow, someday, I would find the man that fitted perfectly for me and this experience would be my biggest lesson. I wish I could bail this feeling out to someone to find relief.

The heat coming off her made my c*ck twitch, and without a seconds delay, I began to feast on her. What’s a game with no boundaries without a little bit of surprise? Desire was the only rule, and right now, we were breaking it in the filthiest way possible. April’s hand shot down, gripping my hair with a desperation that told me everything—she missed this, she missed me, she missed us.

Nyxara had always understood desire. Where others saw a primal storm—unpredictable, dangerous, impossible to harness—she saw patterns, predictable as clockwork. She’d taken desire apart, dissected its anatomy with the cold precision of a surgeon. She knew what made people hungry, what made them hesitate at the edge of the cliff, what made them leap anyway, desperate for something they could never quite claim. Most people thought desire ruled them. Nyxara knew better. Desire was a map, its roads twisting but chartable, its traffic signs visible to those who bothered to look. She could read it, wield it, weaponize it. To her, it was a tool. Controllable. Weak.