Temporary Mates Permanent Cravings Novels & Stories

I rejected him now I crave his presence more compared to before,I'll kill to spend a second with him,the craving urge to once again inhale his hot vanilla and strawberry stinch currently controls my thinking and actions. He was right,we both are one and I bet the moon goddess's mate bond sure does exist. Her so called mated bond sure seems the reasonable explanation for the undying and uncontrollable cravings felt towards an opposite gender encountered only twice and Damien who I rejected appears the only one having adequate know of this,I rejected the only being capable of explaining my current predicament. After exhausting few more minutes awaiting his arrival,I spring up my feets, once ag

Or the way I was willing to play puppy to all of my mates in order to cum that hard again. Flashes of Camilo inside me tensed my body. My legs clenched without thought. Pulse quickened. A week without sex was bad enough. Once you did something, you could miss it. But if you never had it you could never crave it. I should have stayed in my lane. Opened my legs only when I knew the relationships I had were stable. Not now when everything was still new and confusing. Camilo leaned forward, his hand bracing himself on the back of my chair. His lips skimmed my ear. Tongue licking the outer lobe. "But I can smell you want more." He breathed. Shame hit me like a ton of bricks.

It went on for months. My ex-mate was bored with her mating. She claimed he didn’t pay attention to her or love her like a mate should, and she was scared he was still searching for his fated mate, despite them already being together. He would only sleep with her once a week out of obligation, and that was why she wanted me. Not just me, but all four of us. She was hungry for attention. She craved the feeling of being adored. The others were commanded to follow through with entertaining her, but she never commanded me after that first time at the club. She didn’t need to. I was willing, and craving to feel whole again.

She is the missing piece that completes the puzzle of my heart, and I am forever grateful to have found her. Our journey was long and tough, filled with countless challenges and obstacles. Yet through it all, the one constant was the unrelenting craving for pleasure. It drove us forward, pushing us to overcome every hurdle in our path. And now, as we reach the end of this journey, we can look back with pride and satisfaction, knowing that we never gave up on our pursuit of pleasure. For it was this craving that led us to the greatest experiences of our lives, and we will carry it with us always. THE END

Why am I having this feeling about him, or is he my second chance mate? Of course not, because there's a probability that he would accept mating with a single mother of three. Like, who would leave all the young maidens and settle for a single mother of three babies? "Anyways, I'm not going to let him know I have babies to avoid him leaving me so soon because I know he'll certainly leave me, but I don't want it to be so soon; I want to feel loved for some time," I mumbled to myself. "So, Conan, how's the Moonstone Pack and its habitat?" Brian asked. "Honestly, I still can't believe this lady hails from your pack," he added.

Lucas, the swimming team captain and the school's biggest playboy, texted. As a response to his text, I roll my eyes and inquire, "Oh, really, when did you have time to think about me when you're busy as usual being a womanizer?" I knew very well last night that he didn't leave without a girl under his arm. Lucas changes girlfriends, just like the days in the calendar. No one has ever seen him with the same girl for two days. And there's a rumor going around school that he loves sex so much that he cannot go without it for a week. He's no different from a vampire who craves blood, but rather a man-whore who enjoys sleeping around with different females.

“I’m the one that should be asking that! Our honey-glazed, delicious muscle hunks have been thrown at us, and you dodge them like it’s a burning crap pile and sit down in a bar, get drunk, get drugged, and fantasize about sleazy meat bags with a dick! And what for? Just to scratch an itch between your legs!? ” For once, I actually felt embarrassed and a little slutty. Because she was not wrong. But I could not really get past the “Mates” part. Why would I have several mates? I didn’t even want one, did I? And what the heck did she mean about them being thrown at us? Then why haven’t I met them? Why didn’t I sense them? It's not like a subtitle hint when you meet your fated mate. Smell, hor

“But I also know you will hate me later. You are hurting and sex is not going to fix it. When you and I finally mate, it’s not going to be because we are bored, thinking about other people, or we felt forced to. When I mate with you, I’m going to take my time, make every tingle count. Because it will be the first time with the last female I will ever have sex with. It will be my last first time. I want it to be perfect. Give me your heart, before you give me your body. Because your heart is really all I want. The rest is just pleasure, amazing pleasure, but still, just pleasure. Your heart, when it beats for me the way mine beats for you. That is eternal, beyond the bond, beyond life itself.

—*ALISON*— I know I sound crazy for asking Santa for a ‘good fuck’ for Christmas, but right now, it’s the only thing I want. It’s been ten months since my last breakup, and all that time my body has been craving release. I'm so pent up it’s starting to drive me insane. When I get really horny, I use my sex toys but they barely do anything anymore. They don’t satisfy me or make me cum. I need something real—flesh, thick and warm.

It hurt to hold, but she didn’t let it go. She began to write that night—not to him, not to anyone, but to herself. Small sentences. Simple truths. My breath is mine. My body remembers more than his touch. My craving is a symptom, not a bond. She wrote until her hand cramped. And when she finally stopped, she realized she was breathing on her own again—shallow, uneven, but hers. The craving didn’t vanish, but it changed shape. It no longer felt like devotion. It felt like hunger—one she could starve if she chose to.