Temptation Just My Imagination Novels & Stories

Or am I just imagining things, desperate to have someone of my own? The emotions are difficult to put into words. I almost want to scream with pleasure, even though my mate is only a figment of my imagination. What if it's true, and I'm actually connected to the girl who's been playing with my thoughts? "Damn, whoever you are, you're driving me crazy. I'll make sure I can have you. Your desire won't be able to resist me. I'll do everything to make you mine. I'll catch you and pleasure you endlessly." I lick my lips, imagining it's her I'm tasting. I hope I can find her soon because I'm so bored and I need her as soon as possible.

Instead, I sat on the cold floor, fighting my own body, my own treacherous thoughts. Because the truth was a blade I could no longer deny: Part of me wanted him to come back. And that terrified me more than anything else. Dante POV There is an economy to temptation. Too much, and you exhaust the appetite; too little, and it never awakens. The true master finds the measure between famine and feast and paces the offerings like a composer scoring a crescendo. I have the metronome; she is the instrument.

“Confidence comes with experience. And… a little temptation.” My pulse spiked. Temptation. That word hung heavy in the air, charged and electric. I shouldn’t be thinking about it. I shouldn’t be feeling the heat creeping along my spine, curling into my stomach, making my fingers clench the armrest. But I couldn’t help it. Not with her here, so close, so dangerous.

His voice pulled me back, low and patient. I blushed, shifting in my seat. “Yes, Pastor. I… I was just thinking about the verse on temptation.” He studied me for a long moment, those kind eyes darkening slightly. “Temptation is a powerful thing, isn’t it? It creeps in when we least expect it and makes us question everything we believe we should resist.” My breath caught. The air between us suddenly felt charged, thick with something unspoken. I uncrossed my legs slowly, letting my skirt ride just a little higher on my thighs. “It does,” I whispered. “Sometimes the more we try to fight it, the stronger it becomes.”

I'm a woman of dignity. I'm so very ashamed of myself. I need to stop this. From now on, no more fantasizing about Matthew or his big black cock. That man is a walking temptation. Screw him. I'll overcome this temptation. I know I will. I got this. I dumped the burnt eggs into the trash bag, washed the burnt plate and the dirty dishes and then put them all away. Just as I was about to head upstairs to take a bath and go to work, the doorbell rang.

I knew it. The day passed with small moments. I bent over to pick things up in front of him. He watched. I brushed against him in the hallway. He breathed heavier. In the afternoon I went back to the studio door and listened. He sang a new song. This one sounded like it was about temptation. I knew this was dangerous. Mom would be home in two days. But my body craved Frank. His voice. His touch. His attention. That night I lay in bed again. The fantasy returned stronger. I imagined dropping to my knees in front of him. Taking his cock deep into my throat. Working him until he came. The thought made me wet all over again.

Jamey She was a walking temptation I knew I would succumb too sooner rather than later. Meadow was doing nothing to keep my sexual appetite down, her existence was slowly pushing me to my limit, her presence was unnerving and the stunt she pulled today was proof of that. Staring at my bedroom ceiling, all I could think about was the look on her face in the elevator and how it drove me crazy, how easily she got wet for me was addictive. I had been in this position for a few hours. I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t work. This was becoming unhealthy.

"What? What do you see?" "A shape. A person. Standing in the fire. But I don't know if it's real or if I'm imagining it." "Focus. Try to remember more." I closed my eyes. Not that it made a difference. But it helped me concentrate. The music box in my hands. The metal warm from my grip. The memory of the lullaby still playing in my head. And suddenly, I was there again. Seven years old. Small. Scared. "I'm in my bedroom," I whispered. "I can hear screaming downstairs. My mother. She's screaming my father's name. There's smoke. So much smoke. It's hard to breathe."

I can't compromise with them. Marriage? What even the fuck is it? He closed his eyes and an unwanted image flashed in his vision. An image of Isabel with some other man. She was giving that man the same shy smiles she gave Him. Viso clenched his jaws tightly as another scene flashed in his vision. Isabel having sex with that imaginary man. He watched her gleaming body, the same body He spent countless hours imaging under him.

The doorbell rang and she could hear Matteo talk to the delivery boy. The sound of his deep voice made her heart skip a beat. She knew she was attracted to him, an attraction she never felt for any man before, but should she give in to the temptation? No. After all, he didn’t belong to her world. This attraction had no future since she knew how recklessly he lived. This would be akin to committing suicide.