Passage Du Desir Review Novels & Stories

she breathed, and I increased the speed. "Harder," she said, and I realised the extent of my actions at breakfast. I had stimulated her beyond control, and I liked it. I slammed into her, harder and faster. Her pussy was so sweet that I lost myself in it. I felt my wolf emerging, aiming for a claim, wanting to claim her badly. I held my wolf down and continued to pump until she came. She came violently, and I followed, pouring myself into her sweetly.

And like the purest of artists automatically do when inspiration strikes, Alexandra Dupont had slipped right through the crack with another of her inimitable masterstrokes. I snarl and kill the holovid playback with a violent stab, spinning away before the sight of her exultant features filling my windscreen can burn into my retinas yet again. Before the phantom wafts of her sweat-soaked leathers and race exhaust inundate my senses in ways that still leave me...discomfited. "Luca," I bark over my shoulder, "Status update on the simulations." My oldest friend and head engineer straightens in his seat, shooting me an inscrutable look.

Desiree’s POV I woke to sunlight spilling across an unfamiliar room. My body hummed with a satisfied ache, every muscle deliciously sore from the all-night "workout". Beside me, the handsome Frenchman lay tangled in the sheets, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. He looked maddeningly perfect. Dark lashes against sun-kissed skin, lips slightly parted, curls falling loose around his face. I caught myself smiling. I couldn’t believe my luck. Not only was he damn good in bed, but fate had practically handed me a weapon.

"The view is exquisite, isn't it? All those ants scurrying about, utterly oblivious to the true architects of their lives." "Indeed," I murmured, a faint smile touching my lips. Desiree often indulged in our shared fantasy of playing as gods. "Ignorance truly is bliss, isn't it? Besides, it makes our work all the more…efficient." I turned from the window, meeting her gaze. "You never did explain why I should steer clear of Kade Everhart." Desiree didn't turn or even glance my way, but I saw the subtle stiffening of her shoulders. Hmm... Interesting. Did she have a history with him? "You looked into him? Wasn't my word enough?"

“Put your right leg higher around my waist, I’m going to roll you slightly.” I did as he directed and he tilted me enough that my arm wasn’t hyper-extended, but it opened my upper body a bit more to him. As he rocked into me, he tugged on the chain between my clamps and I hissed with need. He was going far too slow. I lifted my left leg so I could control my lower body and arched against him. He tugged on the chain again, sending a shot of desire between my legs again. “Greedy pussy.”

Yet another part, a daring, reckless part, longed to see just how far this temptation could go. “You feel it too,” he said softly, almost a statement, almost a challenge. “I… I can’t help it,” she repeated, her voice barely audible, and this time she meant it fully. Alex leaned back slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “Good,” he said, the word loaded with unspoken promises. “I like that honesty. I like that fire in you.” Lena’s heart raced. Each word, each glance, each brush of skin was a test—and she was losing, willingly. She felt like she was walking a dangerous line, a precipice with no safety net, teetering between desire and reason.

We were in the big conference room, whiteboards covered in notes, laptops open, takeout containers scattered across the table. We’d been going back and forth for an hour about the closing line of the TV spot. “It’s too much,” I said for the third time, leaning back in my chair. “It’s going to come off desperate.” “It’s supposed to feel desperate,” he shot back, not looking up from his screen. “That’s the point. Desire isn’t polite.” “Desire also isn’t alienating half the audience.” He finally looked at me, eyes tired but sharp. “You think sex sells by being polite?”

“This pussy knows who it wants.” Jen’s hands fisted his hair, hips grinding shamelessly. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop.” Pleasure coiled tight, fast and vicious. He added a third finger, stretching her, thumb pressing her clit in brutal circles. She shattered with a choked cry…“Marcus! Oh god, coming!”...thighs trembling, juices coating his chin. He rose, kissing her hard, letting her taste herself. “Stay with me today,” he rasped, freeing his cock and rubbing the head along her slick entrance. “Let me fuck the doubt out of you.”

She glanced through the first page, read the first chapter and froze. It was a story about a man named Desire, narrating the first time he had sex with his nymphomaniac girlfriend Ivy. When he shaved her and painted her in his private studio. Delilah felt her heart skip a beat as she read the words. She was getting a feeling of déjà vu as she glanced over the raw and unfiltered words.

Your fingers trace forbidden roads, On my offered body, fragile and strange. Murmurs open like prayers, Trembling intoxication on the edge of the flesh. Shadow embraces shadow in fevered silence, Desire lights up with luminous bursts. In the deep night where our tears merge, Eroticism blooms, wild and soft. --- Chapter 1 — Confessions of a Desire Clémence