Passionate นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Tiodor Lison left the projection office, making sure his zipper was up. He inhaled deeply, holding the air for a few seconds before exhaling through his mouth, feeling humiliated. He had lost control over a pair of pretty eyes, falling for her charms at the slightest provocation, like a lust-driven animal. He caught his reflection in one of the windows: *pathetic*. Wiping the excess sweat from his forehead with one hand, he walked out of Musso Enterprises with firm steps.

Mad I can't help but let out soft moans when his tongue delved deeper into my wetness. I can't even keep my head still because of the intense sensation I feel. He held both my thighs hard and wide apart as he continued sucking me down there. I whimpered in pleasure when his movements went faster, not letting me hold on to the thin line of sanity left in me. I can hardly recognize my own voice in the dizzying feeling he gives me. He looked up to me with longing and desire, lust and passion altogether written on his face. I'm quite sure my expressions reflected his.

His strong hands quickly steadied me, preventing me from falling. Our bodies were intertwined, and I could feel his arousal pressed against me. I was consumed by heat, yearning for him. Only he could quench the burning desire that overwhelmed me in that moment. He looked into my eyes, then at my lips, desire emanating from his gaze. And then he kissed me. Like hungry animals, we devoured each other's lips, lost in a whirlwind of passion. Suddenly, he pulled away, a smile playing on his lips.

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“I’ve told all the men. Now, you know I love sharing you, but if you want to go home right now, we can do that. It’s up to you. I just want you to be happy.” I inhale deeply, Dante’s intoxicating scent filling my airways. My heart is beating a thousand miles a minute and my nerves feel like they’re on fire. I’m so turned on that I feel like my pussy practically has a mind of its own. And right now, the thought of going home is the last thing on her mind. I shake my head. “Fuck no. You can’t rile me up and then say we should go home. No way.” The corner of his lip twitches in a smirk. “That’s my girl.”

She tastes like passion, like pure, unrestrained passion and I want more. Then we begin to close the gap even more than before. What begins as a small peck becomes more passionate. The rest of the world spins so fast it becomes non-existent. I lean even further into her and my body melts into hers. It is as if I can feel a fire blazing within me, out of control. We are completely and utterly in sync at this very moment.

I shot back, my voice laced with frustration and anger. Brenda attempted to calm me down, but her efforts only served to fuel my fire. "Alright, please calm down," she urged, reaching for the steering wheel in an attempt to steady my frenzied emotions. But my patience was wearing thin, and I couldn't contain my frustration any longer. "Is that why I asked you to lend me money, and you didn't agree, huh?" I demanded, my voice sharp with accusation. Brenda's response only served to stoke the flames of my anger further. "Come on, babe, my anonymous boyfriend won't allow me to. I don't have access, I told you," she explained, her words falling on deaf ears as my frustration reached its peak.

Every stolen moment is a testament to the intoxicating power of connection, reminding us of the intensity and electricity that accompanied those passionate days. Passion in young love is a wildfire, uncontainable and uncontrollable. It's the fervor that compels you to express your love boldly, to embrace your beloved in public without fear, and to declare your feelings to the world. It's the powerful force that emboldens you to overcome obstacles and face the future with unwavering determination.

she told him angrily, “You think you can just show up and take control of my life. Make me more passive. But I’m not interested in being passive or docile. I’m not interested in being managed or accommodating you or your bad manners in any way.” She wouldn’t like it if she knew he found her so appealing right now, Stefan thought. She wouldn’t like it if she knew how much he wanted to touch her. How much he wanted to cover her mouth and drink her in, tasting her, taking her, making her melt. He could make her melt. He could. He could do it now, too. Even when she crackled and burned. It’d be easier now, when she was on fire, her temper stirred, because anger and passion were so very close, an

sign with her fingers. Angela was so pissed, her face turned red. She could kill someone at this point.