Twisted Cravings Novels & Stories

' The 'too' in ' I love you ' makes me feel that I am saying it as an obligation and not because I want to. I hope we will stay like this forever. Loving each other. Craving for each other. *****

My own twisted cravings eclipsed any sense of reason or morality. "Too bad, you worthless piece of shit, you couldn't do a goddamn thing to save your sorry excuse for a family and friends after I spelled out my plans for them to you," I spat, my voice laced with venomous delight. "You'll soon hear the sweet symphony of their screams, echoing through these godforsaken cells. The cries of your brothers, your men... It's over, Santino, and you're gonna watch every fucking second of it."

“Let it be what it is.” In that space, tangled together, teasing, laughing softly, pressing close, brushing fingertips along skin, Imani felt it—the delicate balance of desire, jealousy, love, and intimacy, mingling, stretching through them. She had never felt more alive. The night moved slowly, deliberately, each movement a small, thrilling pulse of connection, building a rhythm that was playful and intense, tender and daring.

To taste her and make that delicious body move and twist and writhe beneath them? I’m not going to trip. But I am going to take what I’m craving the moment I see opportunity open the door.

Katrina, a stunning 38-year-old woman, sat on the couch in her modern suburban home, her mind filled with dark, taboo desires. Her son, Mitch, was away at college, leaving her alone with her twisted fantasies. She had always been a dominant woman, both in her personal life and in the bedroom, but lately, her cravings had taken a disturbing turn.

And again it seems after I had woken up and wanted more. Good heavens I still wanted to kill him but I couldn’t I desperately went after him, I couldn’t help it that my body was craving him. Was it the juice, but it shouldn’t have made me drunk or horny like that. Was it the pregnancy hormones, I really didn’t find men interesting these days but it seemed the bastard was the exception. I seemed to crave him like I did food and that was not healthy, he was my boss and a bastard that I couldn’t stand.

I collapse on the floor, burning hot, dizzy—like my whole body is on edge, unraveling. “The hell, Sunshine? Talk to me. What the hell’s going on?” I look up at him, breathless, my palm against the cold tile. And just when I thought the nausea had passed, something worse hits— a craving. A very specific craving. My mouth goes dry. My tongue feels foreign. I blink, wide-eyed. “I’m craving red oranges,” I whisper. Of all things. Red. Freaking. Oranges.

"I won't play matchmaker. I just really want you to find someone too. Someone you can be with, like the way I'm with Chris." "You don't have to do that. I'm fine like this," she lied through her teeth. **** Midnight cravings were crazy. They were like demons possessing their victims, making them lose all sense of logicality, till their thirst was fully satisfied, their hunger satiated. Only then, would they leave, watching their victims stare in awe at the empty wrappers of devouring destruction they had caused. Enemies of dieting. Those crazy spirits! Anyways, Ivy was possessed and she knew it, because why else would she be going through the kitchen, looking for chocolates at 2:07 am?

Traffic was smooth, not too many cars out on the causeway at five o'clock in the morning as I made my way to the office. I couldn't sleep. My mind kept wandering back to her picture and that sweet smile that held just a smidge of sass. A ping alerted me to an incoming message, and I looked over at the screen placed in a holder. Jax's name flashed across, and I pulled over. Why would he message me this early? These messages will begin and not stop until you have checked the profile made for you on Craving Sugar. Don't make them escalate to harassment. I am prepared. ~Jax

My throat burns with thirst, a hunger that threatens to consume me whole. Oh my good goddess, I literally don't have control over this right now. I struggle, trying to remember the lessons my dad taught me about battling the cravings in situations when it looks like there is no control. His voice echoes in my mind, distant and fading beneath the roar of blood in my ears. "Fight it," I whisper to myself. "Control it." But good goddess, this is far beyond my ability and way beyond my power. The dual sensations of pleasure and thirst intertwine until I can no longer distinguish between them, both equally demanding and overwhelming.