#velvetdesirez

She really had nowhere else to go and nobody else to turn to. Her father was arrested and is currently serving time, while her mother had run off with the man she was having an affair with. Being sheltered her entire life, she was lost and somehow ended up in front of the house belonging to her father's friend. She remembers he used to come over for dinners and he was always at their family events but after a while, he stopped attending altogether. Perhaps, there was a falling out? She honestly didn't know and if she was being honest, she didn't care. However, he was her only option left after racking her brain for a solution.

"Don't mistake my being alone for being lonely." Amelia calls out from her corner of the balcony, her words creating a mist in the Winter air. Suffering the cold is nothing new - it's colder in Amelia's marriage than it is the city in January. But she thought she bought herself a few minutes, before her husband's assistant tries to bring her back to the party.

"What--" There's an edge to her voice, about to unfairly take it out on the young woman. Not that it was entirely unfair - she's certain her husband is having an affair with her. One of the thousand cuts that leave her unhappy and unsatisfied, as he runs his empire and beds his college-aged girlfriends. Amelia's just about to snap when she turns around, catching someone else entirely.

"Oh," she recognizes him, the handsome upstart that's coming up in her husband's firm. Everyone was talking about him just moments ago; how quickly he rose, how lucky the firm is to have him. "Arthur, right?"

based on here

She whimpers at his words and his softness, filth lapping against her ear even as his touch soothes and adores. The idea of the dark-haired boy forcing himself inside her snug cunt is doing unspeakable things for her, the walls of her pussy clenching around the painful nothing where his cock should be. All she wants is to be ravaged by him — to be littered in the marks of his possession for all to see. A throaty groan escapes her at his heated promise, knowing that he's probably right. Cherry is already so lost in him that nothing else ( not even her own friends and family ) seems to matter.

"Christ —!" Cherry can only stare in awe at the form he cuts as he strips, naked and godlike in essence. The redhead raises herself on her elbows to see Hunter better, far too eager to worship at his altar. She doesn't struggle; she doesn't even think to put up a fight when his hand easily traps both of her wrists within its grasp. Her body arches into his frame, desperate and wanting. Even as he growls, all she can do is stare feverishly at his perfect mouth. "Hunter!" She whines his name again, vibrating at the brush of his knuckles against her creamy flesh and the rush of cool air to her hardened nipples.

Her perky breasts rise and fall with each anxious breath, arms straining against his hold as she arches her back. "Please — I - I want you inside me. I need you." She felt empty and feverish, desperate for every point of connection between them and their intermingled breaths. "I want you to take me — take my virginity." Cherry strains desperately against his hold, craning her neck to try and chase his mouth with her own.

"Burn me alive." // @velvetdesirez

he was strictly off limits, the first thing her best friend told her . . . yet she finds herself allured by his presence, chasing for what she wants. "i can most definitely keep a secret, sleepovers with her just got more interesting." smirk grows upon her own lips, picturing her sneaking out in the middle of the night to be with him.

There could've been a million faces in that ocean of ostensible glamour and luxury, and Kadriye would still notice him first. Those ravishing green eyes that once took the air out of her lungs with a mere glance. His ease. That dazzling smile that so effortlessly enchanted her once. The woman's heart failed a beat, Wyatt still possessing the power to take her breath away, but there were no butterflies to speak of anymore. Instead, a quiet storm ravaged her chest, blowing shards of familiar pain through every part of her soul. He'd taken too much of her, not that she hadn't been generous in offering, with the naivety and zeal of a girl still raw in the matters of the heart, who believed in soulmates and happily-ever-afters.

Not anymore. Kadriye couldn't allow the harmony she'd so laboriously built in the wake of his departure be destroyed anew. Yet it was clear in the way her facade had dropped with no consideration for the guests witnessing her urgent stride that Wyatt still held a certain amount of power over her. Those eyes were still able to make her break into pieces, as much as Kadriye refused herself the realisation. This has to be a joke. The words fizzled on the tip of her tongue, yet between the sound of his voice and the aroma of his perfume, she couldn't utter a single word. A fleeting return to the past, to times when she'd grown to know his scent intimately. The memories were still too vivid, their resurgence being enough to make her snap out of that furious daze and realise the enormity of her acts.

"How convenient." Kadriye uttered with false pleasantry, only prompted by the passage of another guest, to whom she offered a gracious smile, a perfect opposite to the woman whose eyes burnt with resentment only moments ago. "I'm not so sure about the universe. If we're speaking in euphemisms, I'm more tempted to say that the devil has his ways of reaching me. I know you too well, Smith." As she met his eyes, her jaw tightened subtly with the effort to hold his gaze, to bar from memory all the ways in which he'd once looked at her. "You don't simply appear someplace and settle for making yourself all discreet for an entire night. It's too uncharacteristic of you." The skin on her back felt like it was burning with the curious, not exactly subtle stares pining them, and if there was something she abhorred, it was the mere idea of carrying herself in a manner that could invite gossip.