Insatible Desires Novels & Stories

Unable to have him pull out again when it’s already so good. “Don’t stop.” I sound whiny and beggy, and yet I feel like I'm going crazy. My body wants and needs, and I lose all rational thought and sense. I want this climb to climax to keep going and this sensual and fulfilling ecstasy to never end. I want to devour him, claw him to pieces, and splat him to every inch of me. Such is the insane desire.

My obsession. Some flames aren’t meant to be tamed. Some desires aren’t meant to be denied. And some people… are impossible to forget. And I was already consumed.

My chest tightened until it felt like my ribs might crack from the pressure. I dragged in a sharp inhale through my nose and pressed my fingers hard against my temples, nails digging into skin. Get her out of your head. But it was useless. Completely, devastatingly useless. Because it wasn't just desire anymore. Lust, I could handle. Lust was simple, primal, something that could be satisfied and forgotten. But this—this was something else entirely. Something far more dangerous than want, more terrifying than need.

"Victor is an aesthetic hedonist. He buys beautiful things and breaks them when he grows bored. If you approach him as a delicate flower, he will take you, conquer you, and discard you again." Adrian's thumb stroked over Julian’s bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, exposing white teeth. Julian felt a shudder run through his core, a sharp spike of arousal that caught him off guard. "You must be the poison he willingly swallows," Adrian continued softly, his thumb tracing the curve of Julian's jaw line down to his throat. "You must be arrogant, elusive, and utterly unattainable until he is crawling on his knees. He must believe you are superior to him in every way—wealthier, sharper, cooler,

Isabelle gets on her elbows and stares at him while trying to catch her breath. He takes off his clothes and throws them on the floor and gets on the bed and stares down at her. It’s like her body is his temple and he wants to worship it forever. Her touch, her affection and mostly her tears give him a euphoric rush that he doesn’t get anywhere else. A part of him that is still sane knows how unhealthy his desires are, the things he gets pleasure out of are so vile and filthy that sometimes his own subconscious gets disgusted by him.

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.

Never the less, it never took too long for me to fall back into that pitch dark abyss, the same old deceptively attractive but disorienting trail pitifully like the devil's allures. when you thought the next Man coming was your full stop only to wake up to the troubling reality he was also just points of ellipsis. Irresistibility was my hallmarks! I was like a ripe fruit drawing in birds, inserts,you can name the rest; but they never stay. They only perk holes in my chest to take bits of the sweetness in my heart, flattering me with unneccessary compliments then leaving it open and scarred without an iota of empathy. Not wanting to make me whole. Always departing with a piece torn from me; w

All of this stirs within me, not like a fading echo, but like a fire being stoked. — It's insane. I murmur the words at the dark ceiling. My voice is a hoarse scrape in the silence. I want her. Again. Already. More. The realization strikes me full force, with an almost violent power. It is not the simple, physical desire I know. It is a distortion of it, an obsession. It's as if a part of me remained inside her, and it desperately demands to return to its place of origin. It is an appetite that is not fed by being sated, but feeds on it to grow.

The unspoken hesitation that lived in the space between us, taut as wire. Desire doesn’t start where people think it does. It starts in restraint. “You’re not imagining this,” Mary said when my pulse refused to settle. “Your limbic response is elevated.” “Because they took him away,” I said flatly. “Yes,” she agreed. “But also because they didn’t erase him.” I closed my eyes. “Explain.” “If they wanted to extinguish desire,” she said, “they would have flooded you with alternatives. Distractions. Replacements.”

Not rational desire—instinct, uncontrollable, possessive. "Do you want this?" My voice came out so low and raw I barely recognized it.