Raw Cravings [ Crave Me Deeply] Novels & Stories

I’m not strong enough to do that. I pull my hands back, and that’s when I see them: my nails, longer, sharper, glinting like claws under the kitchen light. A scream tears out of me, raw and desperate, and the hum surges, a wave that makes my knees buckle. I hit the floor, my vision swimming, and all I can think is Tyler’s voice: You’re not what you think you are. What am I? What am I?

~~Indigo~~ It had been three days since that morning. Three days since I found out what it meant to both hate myself and crave the same person all over again. Just a while ago, I craved Braxton and now, I felt like I was craving the wrong brother but still, a part of me ached for the one who I couldn't have. The truth? I felt alive and dead at the same time. Alive because sex with Slade was— Oh God—it was something else. But dead because every time I saw Braxton, the guilt from that morning weighed heavily on me like a boulder, soul crushing and painful.

She kept blubbering nonsensical things before she prepared to pour yet another bowl of water. Xue Han looked at the other girl who was now raising her head high with eyes that could freeze an ocean. She lazily pulled her long black wet hair at the back of her neck revealing her pale white skin and sharp features which had earned her name: little beauty Cheng. Every young man at that moment was entranced by her beauty and that small gesture except the general who had an indifferent look.

“Eat this sloppy cunt, you fuck, make me squirt again.” My voice cracked with raw need as I spread my thighs wider on the velvet couch. Drake’s face plunged between my legs, his tongue spearing my pussy like a starving animal. The cameras rolled closer, lenses fogging from the heat, chat screaming for more.

I want to scream in frustration. So this is lust — diabolical, torture, highly distracting. Would not recommend before or during important life decisions. I wiggle against him, logic officially evicted. All I’m left with are cravings I didn’t know existed — raw, insistent, laughably dramatic. Nothing I’ve ever done on my own even comes close. These wants feel ancient, embarrassing, and powerful enough to make my brothers spontaneously combust if they knew. “Damion —” I beg. He moans — low and rough — the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. I flood in my panties.

But there was one truth I tried to bury… a craving I didn’t want to name. It wasn’t only one cock I craved for. Deep down... I wanted more. To be used, stuffed, filled until I couldn’t breathe, like the woman in that video. The thought alone shamed me even as it made me ache. But no, I would never cross that line. One cock is where I stop.

"I'm gonna wreck you." I grinned, shameless and breathless. "Promises, promises." And then he was on me again, climbing over me, his mouth everywhere my chest, my throat, the slope of my hip, worshipping and ravenous all at once. His hands roamed, dragging nails, squeezing, grabbing like he was afraid I'd vanish if he didn't hold me hard enough. I arched up to meet every touch, shameless and soaking wet, lost in the way he said my name like a curse and a prayer all at once.

I wanted to feel him, filthy as that sounded. A tiny graze wouldn't hurt anyone. Just a light brush to feel those unfamiliar sensations he gave me even for a split-second. I had a deep craving for something I didn't know, an itch for sensations I only ever read as words on pages. I hesitantly stretched out my hand, my lips slightly parted. I could almost feel it, the feeling I yearned to feel, his manly scent flooding my nostrils, seducing every cell in my intimacy-starved body.

Chapter One Hundred And Eight Zara’s POV I wake up to the sound of my rumbling stomach, a sensation that has become all too familiar in the past few weeks. It's not just hunger; it's a deep, gnawing craving that seems to consume my every thought. The cravings started innocently enough, with a sudden desire for pickles and ice cream, but they've since taken on a life of their own.

It made every atom in my body yell for her. I craved her. I needed her. I should be inside her, filling her up with my seed. I have to mark her. She's mine! It was my rut. Fuck. -