Pleasure Is Mine Artinya Novels & Stories

Today should be the day she comes back or at least reappear. Claude sighed. The anxiety was too much for him to carry. He was sitting alone in the painting room looking at the new painting of Flora he just finished last night: A face of first pleasure. That was its name. "Pleasure is addictive. One time is all that needs to make the body never forget about it and carry on asking for more. I sometimes ask myself how are you facing the distraction, Flora? Are you thinking about me from time to time? Are you getting wet, remembering that night? Are you touching yourself to let the pleasure go out and leave you? Or maybe, are you that strong to face distraction by yourself, only using your soul'

Twitching from the pleasure still coursing through me. Oh god, I’m in trouble.

Dilated from the mix of pain and pleasure. "Face forward," I snap, not saying another word as I repeatedly bring the whip down over her perfect skin, leaving angry welts over it. The sadist inside of me is lost to this, painting a picture over her unmarked, blemish free skin. Pain can be an art form, or at least, it's always felt that way to me. Skin is my canvas and blood is my paint. "Oh God," Azira grumbles as her thighs seem to shudder. And that's when I realize she's climaxed from the pain, as I see the wetness of her arousal dripping down the inside of her thigh.

“For what?” “For being a selfish ass. You’ve given me so much pleasure, but you haven’t had any.” His face softens at my words, and he gives me a gorgeous smile. “Believe me when I say that your pleasure is mine. Making you cum is the best feeling in the world.” I run my fingers over his cheek, feeling the stubble that’s starting to come in. I love him so much it’s almost unbearable at times, almost like it’s too much for my body to contain, like I’m going to burst from it.

"Watching myself disappear into your pretty pussy. If I could paint, I’d have this scene framed, hanging above our bed—a fucking masterpiece. You’re art, Riel. Perfect, obscene art." The words alone sent shocks through her. His thrusts had slowed to a near-maddening pace, yet her pleasure climbed higher, tighter, fed by his mouth. His words were as intoxicating, as arousing as his touch. "More, dearling?" His fingers dug into her hips, possessive. "Yes, please."

Mom spoke. I smiled because even though mom wasn't by my side, I knew that she was already pouting because of my decision. Viela got the cute pout of her grandmother. I have a job in our company but I want to try to explore for myself the way that I was not thinking that I was treated more special. I want to have an achievement in the way that I know I worked hard for it.