Sinful desires{steamiest short stories}

He’d taken off his shirt, and there was sweat on his forehead. His hands were at his sides, empty. I slowly spun to face him, bracing myself against the wall. He stepped forward and bent down to kiss my forehead, then my cheeks, and finally, my mouth.

I kissed him hungrily, pulling on his lips with my tongue the way a kitten will suck on your finger if it’s been weaned from its mother too soon.

His cock was hard against my stomach, and he sighed when I pressed into it. “Can you stay?” he asked. I nodded and put my arms around his shoulders as he picked me up and carried me to his bedroom.

The room was dark but for a blue neon glow from outside the window. As he walked to the bed in the center of the floor, I lifted my cheek from his shoulder and smiled. With one arm holding me, he crouched down and pulled back the duvet, exposing the satiny sheets.

He put me down on my knees, never taking his hands off me, and carefully avoided touching my ass, which felt like a bad sunburn. He crawled onto the mattress and eased me down. The sheets felt cool and soft beneath me, and he smoothed my hair from my eyes.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“How are you?”

“Mmm,” I replied. “I’m really good. Really, really.” “I’m glad.”

Nick lay on his side next to me and slowly traced his fingers over my body like a whisper. Like a feather. He did this, traveling my neck and shoulders, breasts, belly, and hips, giving me shivers and causing little gasps from my throat.

Not five minutes before he’d been beating me with a stick. Now he was taking a languorous tour of my skin-this skin that he’d been abusing for his pleasure. That turned me on so much: the shift from taskmaster to lover.

This change in his demeanor which, though I’d felt safe and in control the entire time we were in the living room, made me feel like a princess-like a little girl who’d been hurt and scared and needed comforting. I closed my eyes and let his hands take care of me.

His touch slid down to my mouth, covering it completely with the heel of his hand, and curling his fingers down to my labia. My legs moved themselves out of the way, and I turned my head to face him, eyes still closed, a smile on my lips.

He kissed me then, his lips covering mine and tugging firmly. My pussy clenched as his fingers pressed against its entrance. He pressed the tip of a finger just inside, moistening it, and drew a line up to my clit, circling it with my own juice. My back arched and i moaned.

He moved between my legs and spread my lips with his fingers. “Such a pretty pussy,” he said, touching his tongue to it, “so hot and wet.” I moaned and touched his hair, stroking it as his tongue and lips stroked me. So gentle, I thought, so sweet. He found my clit and, as though he could read my mind, began flicking it so quickly I thought my head would explode.

Fingers were teasing my pussy and the pressure on my clit was so intense, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, which was rolling and swirling and sucking. I didn’t want to come yet; I wanted to keep feeling the warm and cool tingles alternating from my clit and the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that wanted release.

I resisted until I couldn’t wait anymore and grabbed the back of his head, pushing myself fully off the mattress, letting out a long wail as my pussy contracted around his fingers and I came.

My mouth was dry, my legs were shaking, and every breath came out as a tiny cry. When I opened my eyes, he was lying beside me. He reached over to the nightstand and opened a bottle of water. He lifted my head and held it to my lips. “Thank you,” I managed. He smiled and kissed me. The glimmer in his eyes when he pulled back was becoming familiar to me. I almost asked, “What are you planning to do now?” but Nick was not as mysterious as all that. I knew the answer.

Besides, his dick was hard against my leg.

He replaced the bottle on the nightstand and pulled a condom out of the drawer. I watched as he rolled it on and then rolled over me. The feeling of him pushing his cock into my pussy was thrilling, and I wrapped my legs around him as he pinned my arms out to my sides and slowly fucked me.

I liked how we fit together, how his cock looked sliding in and out of me. How it seemed like his cock had been made exactly to fit my pussy. I liked how he let my arms go and balanced on his forearms and moved inside me, eventually thrusting harder and faster until he came, moaning and pumping and then stopping still to catch his breath.

I didn’t say anything, just held onto his ass as he came, slowing my breathing to match his. Nick pulled out, tossed the condom in the basket, and rested his face on the pillow next to me.

He was still sleeping when I woke up at dawn. I went into the bathroom and washed my face. I caught a glimpse of my naked body in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

I turned slightly and saw the marks on my ass: three perfectly straight lines on each cheek. Running a finger over them, I was surprised at the sting my touch produced. I crept through the bedroom and into the living room where my clothes were neatly laid on the couch.

As I pulled on my jeans, I winced, wondering how long it would take for the welts to disappear, or at least stop hurting so damn much.

But I was satisfied, happy even, as I replayed the night in my mind. He had taken me by surprise, and the biggest surprise of all was how much I enjoyed it: the spanking and the sex and the way it made me feel.

I was surprised at how turned on I was by his “punishment,” and how much I loved the way I felt when we were fucking. I wanted more of his game. I wanted more of him.

The sun was shining through the blinds as I put on my shoes and saw a glint of metal on the coffee table. His laser. I smirked, now the mischievous one.

I grabbed it like a kid collecting candy at a parade and shoved it giddily into my pocket. I scrawled my phone number on a piece of paper and placed it on the table. I walked out of the building, smiling at the cops in uniform outside the police station.

An hour later I was in my bed, the small cylinder and my cell phone on the pillow beside me.

As I was drifting back to sleep, the phone beeped. I opened it to read the incoming text.

“Thief.”

I smiled, sat up, and started typing.