Mag-log inDear Readers. Please keep supporting me with your Gems and Gifts. Thanks so much as you do so💜 It is a huge encouragement to me and help my book in the contest.🙏I APPRECIATE
Then Lena noticed Tarzan had gone completely still. His head rested heavily against her inner thigh, his warm breath fanning across her soaked core. He had fallen asleep right there—face buried between her legs, one powerful arm slung possessively over her hip like he still owned her even in unconsciousness. "Seriously?" she whispered in disbelief. "He fell asleep right there…?" Her body was still trembling, thighs sticky, core pulsing with the aftershocks of what he’d done to her. She hadn’t even had a bath yet. Every muscle felt deliciously numb, begging for sleep, but she couldn’t possibly drift off with his face still nestled against her most intimate place. What if he woke up like this? Carefully, she eased his heavy head off her thigh and slid out from under him. Her legs were shaky, barely cooperative as she maneuvered his massive, dead-weight body. It took real effort—grunting softly, muscles burning again—as she pushed and pulled until he was properly stretched
The way the heat of Tarzan's mouth, the insistent pressure, the way he devoured her like a man starved—it overwhelmed every rational thought in Lena's head. Her thighs trembled around his head, pleasure coiling tight and fast in her core. Soon, he hooked a finger under the edge of her panties, tugging them aside. The first direct stroke of his tongue against her bare, slick folds made her cry out, back bowing off the bed. "Fuck...I mean...wait!" His large hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he buried his face deeper, tongue plunging inside her before circling her swollen clit again and again. The wet sounds filled the dim bedroom, mingled with her gasping moans. Her fingers tightened desperately in Tarzan's thick hair as his tongue kept working on her with relentless, sloppy devotion His drunken hunger made him messy but no less devastating strokes that dragged from her entrance up to her throbbing clit, then tight circles that made her vision blur. "Ah—
"Stay," he growled, the word a low command. "But..." Lena started to protest. His other hand gripped her ass, squeezing the soft flesh with possessive hunger, fingers digging in hard enough to wrench a sharp gasp from her lips. The sound escaped before she could stifle it—a breathy, traitorous little moan. As much as she missed him, missed this, it wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not when he was drunk. Not when the images of him with those other women from yesterday still burned behind her eyes, seared into her memory like a brand. "Tarzan... wait—" she whispered, trying to push upright, but he wasn't listening. In one fluid, powerful motion, he flipped them, pinning her beneath him on her back. His enormous frame caged her completely, all heat and muscle and familiar weight. One strong hand captured both of hers, holding them above her head against the mattress. The other slipped boldly under the hem of her blouse, his rough palm gliding up her smooth skin until it closed
"Mr. Silver… you need to move," she groaned, her voice strained as she hooked her arms under his and pulled. It felt like trying to move a marble statue. She groaned again. "Why are you so… ridiculously heavy?" Bracing herself once more, she wrapped one arm around his waist and slung his arm over her shoulder. "One…" She strained. "Two…" Another tug. "Three!" This time, he shifted. His enormous body leaned heavily against her, nearly crushing her beneath his weight. "Oh! Easy there." She stumbled backward. His head lolled slightly before settling against her shoulder. Lena's knees nearly buckled. He was a giant—dead weight. He's lost so much weight, yet he's still this heavy, she thought to herself. Finally, she managed to get him out of the car, his body slumping heavily against hers. Step by agonizing step, she half-dragged, half-carried him toward the private elevator. She kept adjusted her grip, muscles burning. "Come on, you big teddy bear," she muttered, sweat bea
Lena guided Tarzan out of the hotel, his heavy arm draped across her shoulders for support. They descended into the underground parking garage, where rows of luxury cars gleamed beneath the sterile fluorescent lights. She pressed the unlock button, and an expensive-looking black car chirped in response. Hurrying to the driver's side, she stopped abruptly. "Oh..." She looked back at him. "Mr Silver, you should sit there." Tarzan stared at her for another long, unreadable second before silently making his way to the passenger door. He folded himself into the seat with a low grunt, his long legs barely fitting, then turned his face toward the window without a word. Lena exhaled quietly before slipping behind the wheel. The drive began in silence, the low hum of the engine the only sound between them. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her pulse still racing from the scene upstairs. She stole a glance at him. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely above a w
Lena’s face flushed red with embarassment, her heart hammering against her ribs as the full weight of the danger she’d just walked into crashed over her. “Sorry… but I can’t.” Her voice trembled. “What do you mean you can’t? You’re a grown woman. Get on your knees, chubby bitch.” George’s voice snapped like a whip. “George!” the woman beside him protested. He whirled on her. “Bitch, what?” In the next heartbeat, Tarzan was there—looming over him. Before George could react, Tarzan’s hand fisted in his hair, yanking tight and painful. With terrifying strength, he slammed him downward. George’s knees cracked against the marble floor, the sound reverberating through the stunned room. Everyone froze. "Damn." Tim muttered. George’s face twisted in rage, fists clenching at his sides. “You think you can humili—” A lightning-fast punch snapped his head back, dropping him flat, a strong of blood drip from his nose. Before he could recover from that hit, Tarzan’s leather shoe
LENA’S POV My eyes fluttered open to a pristine white ceiling. The room looked different—the curtains were no longer soft white but a calm, muted grey. My heart was still racing, and I gasped for air. That heavy, aching pressure lingered low in my abdomen, tingling painfully, desperate for a rele
The moment the cab finally pulled up to the Sapphire Suites Hotel, my men were already waiting. Three of them in dark suits stood by the entrance when we arrived. Before the driver could even get out to open the door — probably as thanks for the cash I’d given him — they approached. The driver st
LENA'S POV It was a cold morning, but the chill in the air had nothing to do with how I felt. I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead. The skin burned under my palm like a stove left on too long. I swallowed, but my throat felt raw and painfully dry. My whole body felt… ghostly. Not solid any
MITCH'S POV I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, muscles loose and mind sharp. No wonder—yesterday’s deep-throat session had drained every bit of stress and frustration out of me. My body still tingling from the memory of it. Lena… I should probably go check on her. No. Going in th







