He Craved My Love When I Stopped Serving Him Novel Novels & Stories

is screaming at me, what my pussy is belching out is definitely not hate. Is it? No. I don’t fucking know. But all I know at this moment, this very moment, is that I want Askar. It’s like my whole body is craving him to touch every single inch of my body. To feel his hands tracing and swaying all over my body, it craves it. I wanted more of him, I need more, I for fucking sake crave the shit out of it. But my mind, my stupid ass brain is saying otherwise. Is my mind, or heart, or even my pussy right? I couldn’t tell, I physically have no clue what is right, and it’s eating at me. “I want you Askar. But Bell.” I broke out. “We aren’t thinking about her right now.” He said, as he continued to

I always followed. He stood on the small back porch, took one long drag, but didn't exhale right away. He just held the smoke in, shoulders tense. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind, resting my forehead against the solid line of his back. He flinched at the contact but didn't pull away. After a moment, he exhaled with a visible tremor. "I love you," I whispered. He heard it as clearly as if I had yelled it at the top of my lungs.

I let out a soft moan when he stroked my thigh. “What do you want, Krisha?” he asked, his voice raspy. The rain was pouring heavily outside, but I felt like I was surrounded by fire from the intense heat building up inside me. This is exactly what I have been craving for, and this man is the only one who can give it to me! My hands traveled up to his neck, and I licked my lips. “Tell me to stop, because I don't want you to regret this,” he said, holding himself back, but I shook my head.

And he was able to save them. Ever since that day the two have become inseparable. The servant worries that her master might face the same situation again. The two had a mutual understanding. "...." But Cheng Min knew that she could be married off even the day after. After all, her parents had tried to send her to the palace. Just the thought of marrying that lustful prince made her want to vomit. She had not only heard of him from her brother but she had seen him for herself. He liked visiting those flower house too much. There was no way she would marry a man like that.

But now, the blank wall felt like a wound. Finally, he stood before Elara’s bedroom. They didn’t always sleep together. They made love in his room. He’d never felt the need to enter hers. His eyes landed on a journal on the nightstand. His hand trembled as he opened it. "My father used my sister's illness to force me to marry a Moretti. I hate him." "Dante is just what I expected. An arrogant, insufferable bastard." "But I have to admit, the sex is incredible."

Before I could even think, he was right in front of me, backing me up until my shoulders hit the wall. His eyes burned. “I told you to stop playing games.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I pressed my thighs together, already aching. “Then why didn’t you stop me, sir?” I whispered, tilting my chin up even though my legs were shaking. “You’ve been hard every single time I got close. I felt your c*ck against my a*s… You want this just as bad as I do.” Roman’s hand shot out and grabbed my chin, firm enough to make me gasp. “On your knees. Now.”

Chery looked at him and commented, "If a woman doesn't surrender her body to you then it's a clear indication that she doesn't love you!" "What nonsense! The two of you are like chalk and cheese!" He liked Crista's innocence and kindness as much as he disliked Chery's scheming character. Crista could shower him with an abundance of warmth that made him long for a home with her. Chery couldn't offer him anything close to this in a thousand years. Although Chery had helped him in countless ways when he was suffering in Thailand, that was not the kind of love he sought. Chery stared at him and said, "I won't force you, but I don't want you to meet that woman now, okay? Please can you stay and a

He didn't ask what was said; he didn't need to. Michael didn't wait for her to speak. He reached out, his hands framing her face with a tenderness that wiped away the lingering chill of the past sixteen years. He pulled her close, and right there in the shadow of the precinct—the very place that had once tried to destroy them—they surrendered to each other.

When he offered her a third glass, something inside her snapped slightly. She didn’t want to drink anymore. She didn’t want to continue this conversation under these conditions. But she held herself back. This deal was important. She could not afford to offend him. Amelia reached out to take the third glass. But before her fingers could touch it— Someone else grabbed it first. The movement was sudden. Unexpected. Amelia’s hand froze mid-air. Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned her head toward the person who had intervened. And the moment she saw him—

I shouted in anger. "Avi, you cannot turn back. We're almost in our destination. Don't you ever try to confess to anyone. I-I don't want your Tito Dante to be in jail. Please Avi, d-don't do that. I love him so much. I c-can't lose him." She rubbed my hand gently with tears running on her face. The jeep stopped in front of a small old house. It is on the middle of the forest and isolated from the neighborhood. I didn't know that there is a house in this kind of place.