Wanting Novels & Stories

He gripped his aching length in one fist, lined up right against her exposed, trembling heat, and rubbed the slippery tip through her soaking folds, coating himself in her juices. “Look at this,” Ben gritted out, slapping her wet pussy hard, sharp and stinging making her cry out loud and arch back against him. “Dripping all over my hand. Ready to take every thick inch of this dick. Tell me how badly you want it. Tell me you want me to ruin you.” “I want it!” Aby screamed, shameless and wild, pushing her ass back against him, desperate to impale herself on him right there. “I want your cock to ruin me, Ben, fill me up and make me yours no matter how wrong it is please”

I just couldn't wait to get on the rollercoaster. "God I can't believe you guys want to get on that scary thing, ill probably throw up after the first round" Chase stated frowning his face and pretending to gauge against the thought. The guys have always been at my side the whole time and I couldn't help but feel like I'm being babysitted by them.

He just want to waste all his energy so that he could relax his mind and overcome those feelings and fears. Last night whatever he did with nandini he never support it. He never support to rape a girl wether she is your wife either slave. He always known for his respectful behavior towards everyone after all he is a king who is ruling his empire by foreign policies and people loves him so much because he is leading their life in very comfortable way in less prices. Each and every member of his kingdom is very happy with his ideas because they lead their life in more comfortable way after adopting manik's rules in their lives.

“What?” “Making me want you like this!”

While life continues in all the ways it's supposed to, for everyone but me. And I let myself want it. Just that. Just for a moment. The wanting, without any answer to it yet. Without knowing if I'm brave enough to do anything about it. Without knowing if wanting is enough when fear has made a home in every corner of my chest. But the wanting is there, small and persistent, like a candle that refuses to go out no matter how hard the wind blows.

It’s that bliss you feel knowing that you are accepted and deeply wanted , to an extend that that someone chooses and continually chooses you. Is it wrong to want that? Is it selfish to want someone all to yourself – their attention , their focus , everything? Is it selfish to want them to be all about you? I keep asking myself these questions , because I know that it can not always be about me. No matter how badly I want that someone to be all about me , it is impossible to have that.

I wanted more. I wanted everything.

"What the fuck, let me go!" I want her, I want her, I want her in my arms, I want to smell her, I want to kiss her, I want her, I fucking want to tie her in my own house. I want to fuck her nonstop, I want to open her legs wide, I want her, I want her looking at me with flush look, I want to ram her inside, I want to make her shout, I want her to cry, I want her to only look at me, I want her attention only to me. I want her. Fuck, I want her. I want to kidnap her right now. I quickly snap my thoughts and let go of her, she looks at me with creepy look.

They both ruined my life in their own way. And just like I can’t stop craving Wesley , I can’t stop wanting Falcon. Rather, my wolf can’t stop, but what’s the difference? I still want to fall on my knees and beg them both to fuck me in any and every way possible, whether the desire comes from my wolf or from my human side.

Alone in the dark with a body that still wants. Not him. Not specifically. The woman I was when I was wanted. The version of myself that existed inside his attention – confident, electric, the girl who wore his name across her shoulders and walked into rooms like she’d earned the space. I want HER back. I press my hand flat against my stomach. Below the ribs. Where the wanting lives. Not desire for someone – desire for proof. Proof that the body still works. That the machinery of feeling hasn’t been dismantled by weeks of silence and cruelty and a word – detour – that lives in my chest like shrapnel.