Novelas y relatos de Tempted

“Every tremble, every shiver. You don’t even know what you do to me.” Her breath hitched, caught between desire and fear. He was dangerous, impossibly so, but he was hers to lean on, at least for this moment. Massimo slid one hand under the blanket, slow and deliberate. His fingers traced along her skin, teasing the boundaries without crossing them, his control absolute. “Soon, angel,” he whispered, voice rough with need. “Soon, you’ll feel what I’ve been holding back.”

I can't tell what Noah is doing to me and why my body is reacting this way. “You don't want to get close to me, Bambi. It is risky. I destroy ....” I crashed my lips with his again,more desperately this time. I couldn't describe the fire, the desire he is igniting within me, maybe I have been pretending to be a good girl or maybe I haven't crossed paths with someone like Noah that would awaken that sinful desire. I want him, I do. My grip tightened around his neck, sucking and taking every inch of him.

I ran my fingers over her again. “Waylon…please.” She gasped. “Do you want to come, Temptress?” I practically purred at her. “Yes.” She breathed. “Don’t you want to hear what else I’ll do to you?” My fingers froze against her. She nodded. “Use your words, Temptress.” “Y—yes.” Her breathing was labored.

“Besides, temptation is never a patient thing, Nora. You should know that by now.” Heat pooled in my cheeks before I could stop it. I wanted to protest, to say he was wrong, that I wasn’t tempted, but the words died on my tongue, betrayed me. Because I was. I was tempted, and it wasn’t just Lucien. The memory of Caelum against me still burned on my skin; Elias’s touch from training class had my pulse racing. It wasn’t fair, how all of this had become so twisted. “You speak of temptation as if it’s something to be proud of,” I said at last, trying to force myself to look away from him and failing.

Emma, meanwhile, floated out of the clinic like she’d won a game. The evening air was brisk, cool against her heated skin. Every step replayed his struggle—the way his hands had frozen on her stomach, the clipped edge of his voice when he said enough. He wanted her. She knew it. The knowledge pulsed like a live current inside her. She stopped at the corner, staring at the glow of traffic lights, a sly smile curving her lips. This wasn’t about headaches anymore. This was about temptation, about pushing until his iron control finally snapped.

The restaurant was quiet, sophisticated, expensive enough that Clara suddenly felt too aware of her outfit. Adrian pulled out her chair before sitting across from her. “So,” he said, scanning the menu. “Tell me why you nearly walked away from this deal yesterday.” She froze. “I didn’t.” “You did,” he said calmly. “Not with your body. With your eyes.” She stared at him. “You’re imagining things.” “I imagine very few things. I observe them.” She hesitated only a second before answering honestly. “Because you intimidate people on purpose.” His lips curved slightly. “And you don’t like that.”

Her warmth. Temptation creeps in. Strong. Impossible to ignore. Maybe I can blame it on the alcohol later. But right now, I allow myself to lean in... Hoping to get a taste of her lips.

He playfully spanked my left but and squished it with so much eagerness. "I want to see you dancing, babe. Come on!" He whined like a kid and put both of his hands behind his neck before licking his lower lip. "Come on." After a minute of convincing, his eyes finally lit with happiness when I stood up from his lap. I took my tie out of my hair and messed it up a little to seduce him. His lips parted when I took my shirt off in front of him, leaving me with my brassier. I swayed my hips from side to side, my hands roaming around my shoulder unto my breast, slightly fondling it.

"I've tried. Every night, I've tried to pray you out of my head. Every morning, I've begged God to take this temptation from me." "Did He?" "You know He didn't." His hand reached up, cupping my face as he used his thumb to race my jaw lightly. "You're the only prayer I can't stop saying." My heart slammed against my ribs, and I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. "I've wanted you since the first time you confessed," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Every fantasy you described, I pictured myself there. And every sin you confessed, I wanted to commit."

I bet a man like Timothy is an absolute beast behind closed doors—rigid and calculating until you strip that title away and leave him sweating, gasping, and driving into a woman with his hands clamped around her hips. I didn't want their blessings. I wanted to test the fire they all pretended wasn't there. I wanted to see if a man who thought he was above temptation would shatter the second I sank my claws into him—and if dragging him down into the dirt would let me steal a piece of that power for myself. If the sanctuary upstairs was a stage, the teen department classroom downstairs was where I fed my real obsessions.