Untold Desire Novels & Stories

"The view is exquisite, isn't it? All those ants scurrying about, utterly oblivious to the true architects of their lives." "Indeed," I murmured, a faint smile touching my lips. Desiree often indulged in our shared fantasy of playing as gods. "Ignorance truly is bliss, isn't it? Besides, it makes our work all the more…efficient." I turned from the window, meeting her gaze. "You never did explain why I should steer clear of Kade Everhart." Desiree didn't turn or even glance my way, but I saw the subtle stiffening of her shoulders. Hmm... Interesting. Did she have a history with him? "You looked into him? Wasn't my word enough?"

They are not too obvious but I can read red and green. I scroll through the channels, trying to find anything interesting to watch. But my mind is occupied. Occupied by thoughts of Lance and Cliff. I am trying to figure out what is wrong that they haven't touched me. Truth is,I miss their touch. I want them to treat me like a slut,their slut. Over the days they have distanced themselves from me, one thing became very clear; I desire them. I desire the men that own me. I want them to drag me to their bed and fuck my brains out. I want to be bend down by the shower and fucked senseless. I want to cum so many times that I lose count.

“That’s the one thing I can’t seem to write.” “Why not?” he asked. “Because I don’t know how to describe it without sounding fake.” He studied me for a moment. “Maybe that’s because you think desire is only about the physical. But it isn’t.” I met his gaze, waiting. He continued, “Desire can be wanting to understand someone completely. It can be curiosity, admiration, or even silence between two people who can’t stop thinking about each other. It’s not always about touch.” His voice was low, steady, almost thoughtful enough to make the room feel smaller.

, she whispers, as if every word is a dangerous secret. “Games? I once heard them talking about going to play somewhere... but they weren't clear. I thought it was card games, I don't know”, I whisper back. “It's sex. There's everything you can imagine from explicit games to all kinds of tastes. You can only enter if you're invited, and you sign a liability contract and Didi will try to get me in under a false name. Would you like one?” I shake my head in disapproval. “I don't know if that's my thing.”

I clenched my fists tightly, trying hard to stop myself from pulling her in and kissing her. But when I accidentally touched her hands and smelled her perfume, my dick moved. I felt the running electricity just by our touch, my prolonged resistance has finally given way. I cannot take it anymore. The agony of not wanting to touch her is killing me. I wanted to devour her, to taste her sweet lips again. Yes, I have been wanting to taste her again. It’s like a fire ignited within my body when I felt Scarlett’s kiss again. My courage grew even stronger as Scarlett responded to every kiss I gave her, to every touch. The sight of her body illuminated by the moonlight only made my desire burn even

Nyxara had always understood desire. Where others saw a primal storm—unpredictable, dangerous, impossible to harness—she saw patterns, predictable as clockwork. She’d taken desire apart, dissected its anatomy with the cold precision of a surgeon. She knew what made people hungry, what made them hesitate at the edge of the cliff, what made them leap anyway, desperate for something they could never quite claim. Most people thought desire ruled them. Nyxara knew better. Desire was a map, its roads twisting but chartable, its traffic signs visible to those who bothered to look. She could read it, wield it, weaponize it. To her, it was a tool. Controllable. Weak.

He had ignited something inside her she couldn’t name, a mixture of desire, fear, and fascination that left her restless. The night after their heated lunch together, he hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. But she felt his presence everywhere, like an invisible weight pressing against her chest. In the scent of her perfume, she imagined traces of him lingering. In the echo of his voice in her memory, she could feel the dangerous pull of his attention. She tried to tell herself it was just desire, a fleeting office crush—but deep down, she knew it was far more than that. By morning, she resolved to bury herself in work, hoping the endless reports and emails would distract her from the way her bo

The heat wasn’t fading, and neither was the want. Eventually, the exhaustion of need won. My breathing slowed, but my heart still raced, pounding against my ribs like it wanted out. I buried my face in the pillow, curling tightly under the blankets. The note was still in my hand, the edges soft and warm from my touch, the images and desires stirring in my mind, unyielding. Sleep came slowly, restless and unsteady, filled with every touch, every forbidden thought I couldn’t shake. My body relaxed just enough to drift, but the ache, the want, the heat remained raw and alive, steaming under my skin even as darkness claimed my consciousness.

For a moment, the air between them thickened with unspoken desire, heavy with everything they weren’t saying. Aurora turned, grabbed a black shirt from the wardrobe, and put it on. After that, she allowed the towel beneath the shirt to become undone. Everything happened right before the very eyes of Maverick. Time seemed to stop as the towel slipped away, leaving her bare before him, and the hunger in his eyes made her realize she had never intended to stop this in the first place.

I commanded, and he did, towering but compliant. I unbuckled his belt, yanking his pants down. His cock sprang free, thick and veined, nine inches of rigid flesh curving slightly upward, the head glistening with pre-cum. It was bigger than I imagined, heavy in my hand as I gripped the base. "You curate others' desires, but what about yours? Tell me what you want." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "You. On your knees, mouth on me." The words came out strained, his control cracking.