The Last Desire Novels & Stories

Why should I let a semi naked lady—a stranger—sit on my lap, dance and get me hard? Yet here I am. Getting one. Loving it. Wanting more. “Let me touch you,” I beg. Desiree shakes her head. “No.” Fuck my life. She's going to ruin me. I swear I’ve never been this hard in my life, and I’ve lived for over four decades. Her wet hair is dripping all over me, yet it's not enough. I want more. I want other parts of her—other wettable parts to drip on me too. I’d do anything to be out of these cuffs, to touch her. Just one touch. I want to see if her skin is as soft as it looks.

JEREMY “ Not even a thank you?” I said to myself while she slammed the rear door and hurriedly entered the school without looking back. I decided to rearrange the files she scattered around and wait for her while she was gone. I was alone in my thoughts thinking about how this girl was able to capture my heart in the shortest possible way. I came back to reality with a phone buzz. I checked and it was my grandmother. I rolled my eyes as I picked up the call. With a fake cheerful tone “Hii Granee, how are you doing?” “Don't Granee me since you don't want my happiness and I'm not fine if you care to know.” She responded. “ Aww, how can I not want the happiness of my dearest person? And what is

Should I write her name on my heart or the awareness of my existence on her lips? After her disappearing from life, desires started awakening within me. Desires to look into her eyes, sit with her for hours. To hold her hand in mine, to run my fingers through her hair. To listen to her words for hours, to feel her presence. These desires have taken root in my mind, all based on the hope that one day I will meet her and fulfill all the desires. Then, I will stop her from leaving again. I'll keep these desires in my mind, hoping that one day she will meet me to fulfill them. Then, I will keep her close to me and never let her go again.

he keeps on babbling nonsense things, clearly missing the point as to why we are in this conversation after all. "But that is what I want. I want you to keep wanting me. I want you to keep kissing me, hugging me, losing yourself to me. Just like last night. Last night, was truly magical," I try to persuade him to see the beauty in sex, in touch, in love.

Life would take away my foundation, and it wouldn't be long before I collapsed. It was a Saturday with a completely blue sky when I left the house for another visit to Desiree. I went into the room, washed my hands and walked towards her bed. He had a breathing tube in his mouth. Her eyes were clogged with gas, her hands were swollen. Only a blanket covered her body. I watched her chest rise and fall as I wished so hard I could hear her voice just one more time. I caressed her hand, while bringing my face closer to hers and whispering in her ear: I love you, mom, and I don't want you to go. A tear trickled down my face and I hummed a song under my breath. Could she hear me? I wanted to hold

There was something in his eyes as he did so; I took it as lust. "Give it up," I said to him. "I will never be yours." "It doesn't matter to me," he responded. "I'm getting you either way, whether you like it or not, by fire or by force." "Those are both bad things," I pointed out. "Who said I was going to be gentle at all?" he said. "And once I get you, I won’t be gentle either." I started to lose my appetite but made up my mind to let it happen because of him. There was no reason for me not to enjoy a perfect meal, especially when it was going to be my last one.

I mentally rolled my eyes even as the flashback washed over me. I remember once talking with Eddie late in the night as we snuggled with each other. We had talked about a lot of things, mostly about our future together. We had talked about our dreams and aspirations, weaving plans for a life filled with love and adventure. We had spoken softly in the night, talking and hoping about the family we would have. Eddie had described, with a twinkle in his eyes, and longing in his voice the house of his dreams—a mansion with sprawling grounds, adorned with the laughter of children echoing through the halls. The tiny patter of little feet was a sound I had always longed to hear. Maybe that was why I

he says, his lips curling into a smirk that’s equal parts charming and infuriating. The soles of his shoes click against the black tiles as he takes a step toward me, then another, closing the distance between us. “I don't quite know what you mean?” I say, racking my brain, trying to come up with what he could mean. “Last night, you kind of ghosted…” Oh? Oh. Oh. “So I'm asking you again, Scarlett. Do you think you have a soulmate?”

The room smelled of sandalwood and leather, faint notes of his cologne clinging to the air. Claire sank onto the chair, legs crossed, and tried to steady her racing thoughts. The fantasy she had clung to all week—the raw ownership, the surrender—was finally within reach. “So,” he said, leaning casually against the doorway, “what is your desire?” “To be retired… and owned,” Claire whispered, her voice trembling slightly, the confession leaving her vulnerable yet exhilarated. His gaze sharpened, a small, approving smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

“The tension, the pull… it’s real, Lena. And denying it won’t make it go away.” She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and nodded, unable to find words. The air between them was thick, almost suffocating, charged with anticipation. Every instinct screamed at her to stay professional, to maintain distance, but her body refused to obey. His hand hovered near hers again, tracing an invisible line across the edge of the desk. The teasing proximity made her breath hitch. She knew the line between desire and propriety was blurring, and part of her was terrified. Yet another part, a daring, reckless part, longed to see just how far this temptation could go.