Her Own Desire Novels & Stories

"You want to psychoanalyze me, good sir? Pry into what's twisting my subconscious into knots these endless nights as I choke down defeat after bitter defeat? Very well, let's examine just what plague that capricious, smarming, viperous truculent viper of a woman has summoned forth upon me..." The words pour from me at a steadily increasing cadence, harsh Romanic syllables filling the trailer until I can scarcely tell where rational diction gives way to feral, unguarded lather. I snarl and seethe at how her very existence has shaken my being to its foundations these last seasons. How the burning injustice of her effortless uprising from humble pauper's origins has so destabilized and consumed

She let the silence settle between us, then reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear the way a mother might. “Desire is complicated. It doesn’t wait for permission. It shows up where it shouldn’t. With people it shouldn’t. And it demands attention.” She pulled back, gentle but firm. “Just don’t confuse survival with softness,” she said. “And don’t punish yourself for wanting something that wasn’t supposed to happen.” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. She didn’t expect one. I didn't wait for her to leave before rushing to the library. I wasn’t hiding.

She saw hunger. Not for food. Not for sleep. For touch. She couldn’t help herself. Her lips parted. Her nipples tightened in the cool air. Her skin prickled, not with fear but with desire. She didn’t understand why. But standing there, staring at herself in that mirror, she felt drawn in… to herself. The slope of her hips. The faint mark on her neck. The echo of something wild in her expression. She let her hand drift down slowly, sliding between her thighs, cupping the heat she found there.

“Now, bring your hand lower. I want you to confirm for me what you told me earlier. Is your surrender as desperate as I need it to be to fuel this war? Are you wet for my voice, Elara?” I gasped, pressing my fingers into the soft, yielding skin of my inner thigh. The confession was humiliating, but the need was a hurricane. “Yy-es, Mr. Adrian. I am. It’s… it’s a mess of heat. And I hate you for knowing exactly how to weaponize my desire.”

she asks, holding out a sexy schoolgirl outfit that looks like it’s for Halloween. My mouth gapes and she smiles, “This one covers the most skin, but it’ll work with the vibe you have going on.” “I have the vibe of a student?” I ask… but quickly, laugh realizing she’s right. Duh, that’s my entire being. Just not the sexy part. “Or, we could go with something else,” she begins, but I shake my head. “No, you are right,” I tell her. “That is literally me,” I pause. “Just not Sexy.”

“There is only one qualification you need. That is being my woman. I won’t have my woman serve others, she would be the one being served.” I could see desire in her eyes. She wanted it. “Are you…” she stammered. “Are you certain?”

“The kind of person who desires to be pushed past her own limits.” The low hum of dark, sexual allure that hung around his every word sent a wave of electricity down my spine the way he had managed to sum up my entire past in two sentences boggled my mind. Crave the rush of being forced to the edge…desires to be pushed past her limits. That was me. That was my deepest, darkest desire for almost my entire adult life to have someone push my body, force me to go beyond what I thought I was capable of. Yet I never allowed myself to embrace that part of me, never sought out the kind of person who would be able to satisfy that need deep within me which is why I ended up giving it to myself, by sli

None. Juѕt gut іnѕtіnсtѕ and my fеаr. Mу desire fоr hеr has оnlу іntеnѕіfіеd аnd thе thought of another mаn tоuсhіng thаt bеаutіful soft ѕkіn mаkеѕ mе сrаzу.

The one who could crown me… or destroy me. I smiled, slow and sharp. My teeth ached for her. --- A shift in the soil. A crack in the silence. A voice—thin, human, desperate—filtered through the roots. > “I want him. All of him.” Ah. The little wolf. Her desire was a filthy, glittering thing. I could drink it for decades and never run dry. She thought she’d found me. But I had found her first. Desire like hers was the perfect shovel to dig me out.

A sane girl won't share the same house with a man she felt undeniable sexual attraction but she had proved adequately that she was anything but sane. He grabbed the back of her thighs and brought them up to circle her waist, slamming her against the antique dresser and she let him. She wanted him to know she wasn't surrendering to him but was surrendering to her own needs. He couldn't manipulate this into making a point that she in any way belonged to him, she was her person. A woman who had come this far by being independent on her own means and name. This between them was selfish and hers. Borne out of desire and lust. It didn't matter it was Xavier who was making her light-headed with des