Novel & Cerita His Darkest Craving

He's no different from a vampire who craves blood, but rather a man-whore who enjoys sleeping around with different females. Well, I always have time to think about you, no matter who I'm sleeping with, he texted back. I replied with a rolling eyes emoji to his text, and he sent me a large, beating heart. I ended the message and closed the phone, angry with him. Lucas has been trying to get me for years, and I wish sometimes he would give up. I love Tristan, and he's the person I'd like to spend my entire life with. Unlike my dad, Tristan is there for me and protects me.

Niko was furious, but I couldn't explain the darkness that consumed me, the overwhelming need to revel in violence. I'd never felt such a pull towards the abyss, the twisted thrill of inflicting pain and death sending shivers of sick pleasure down my spine. In that moment, I welcomed the darkness, embraced the depravity that had taken hold of me. All I craved was more blood, more destruction—a craving that gnawed at my soul with insatiable hunger. I was beyond redemption now...

Looking in front of him and receiving such a pristine soul, a voice echo behind him. “DO YOU WANT TO MAKE YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE?” A chance, but not that tempting for him to take. Yet. “I CAN MAKE YOUR DEEP DRK DESIRE COME TRUE. SUCH AS REVIVING ONE SOUL.” Intrigue and slowly being dragged into the abyss of endless darkness. A sinister smile draws in a twisted way behind his pure smile that he is showing to the unknown prey. “Say, you will do anything that big brother will tell you, right?”

Old barrels loomed in crooked rows, the scent of oak and age and forgotten spills mixing with the sharper tang that fueled my darkest desire. I found the cask farthest back, turned the brass tap, and let the red spill into a goblet until it nearly overflowed. My throat burned for it—anything to quiet the gnawing in my veins. I swallowed the first glass whole, the liquid slick and warm, nothing like what I truly craved. A poor imitation. The second pour trembled in my hand, not from weakness but from the thing thrashing inside me. Hunger, rage, desire—so tightly wound they were indistinguishable. I tilted the cup, watched the dark surface ripple. Not enough. Never enough.

The glow from the torches cast erotic shadows, my vision is hazy, and my mind is clouded with lust. I gyrate my hips seeking out friction to subdue the craving between my legs. I need to be filled; I need my thirst quenched. “Crimson,” I call out for my mate, craving his touch. Needing only his touch. For a brief second the haze clears from my mind, and it dawns on me what is happening. I am the feast. I am the claiming. It’s not what I want but I’m powerless to stop it. The wine, the music, my heat…

Her body ached beautifully, her mind floated in a haze of pure satisfaction, and her heart felt dangerously full. Lying in Damian’s arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, she whispered, “This craving… it’s dangerous. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my normal life after you.” Damian’s strong arm tightened around her possessively. His voice was quiet but intense when he replied, “Then don’t go back. Some flames aren’t meant to be extinguished.” In the heavy silence that followed, reality pressed in. His empire, his secrets, her ordinary world — everything that made this week feel like a fantasy. Yet the craving remained, burning hotter than ever.

“You’re finally mine. Completely. No more hiding from it. No more fear that isn’t mine to control.” Raven could barely speak. She just clung to him weakly, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing softly into his sweat-slick shoulder. The full weight of her addiction crashed over her like a tidal wave terrifying, liberating, all-consuming. The blackmail, the threat of gang rape, the danger to their baby it all paled against the absolute need she felt for Damien’s darkness. She was addicted, broken, and utterly owned. Her phone buzzed loudly on the desk across the room, the sound cutting through their heavy breathing like a knife.

He took me in the walk-in pantry while the gardener was outside. Bent over the washing machine in the laundry room. Once, I even initiated it, catching him in the hallway after lunch, dropping to my knees, and sucking him until he came down my throat with a strangled curse. I was addicted and completely. The old hate had turned into something darker and hungrier. I needed him inside me like I needed air. The third night, Damon came to my room with something new in his eyes. He spent a long time opening me up with his fingers and tongue, then slowly worked the tip of his cock against my ass.

Sara His cock always tasted crazily good. That was why I kept coming back for more. I would say I was slowly becoming addicted to it, which isn't a good sign. He's Layla's father. Layla's my best friend. Someone I shouldn’t even have a dirty thought about. I had betrayed her and didn't even feel that guilty about it. And even now, with her downstairs, I couldn't think about anything else but getting pleasured by her father. Carson gripped my head tighter, shoving his cock deeper inside my mouth.

Seeing her look at me like that makes me feel she can see my dark, dead soul. A soul that can never be redeemed. A soul that has embraced darkness. Yet, I can’t stop the sexual, dark needs roaming through me. I want to fuck her so bad that she’ll only scream my name. I want my cock buried inside her that she’ll think of no man except me and only me. Dima Kozlov. I want this petite, porcelain creature for myself. Only for myself. Shit shit.