บททั้งหมดของ All Shades of Passion: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

Monalisa POV.My body vibrated from the throes of my orgasm as his dick thrust into me, my body shuddering from the pleasure I felt.I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him deep into me.Wanting every length, every inch.My hands ran up and down his chest, with a feverish frenzy. My nails digging into his flesh, as I drew him close.Feeling like it wasn't enough, I pushed him back and climbed on top, whistling through my teeth as I fed his cock into me.I started to hump him, going slow at first to find a rhythm, then going fast, riding on his dick like a cowgirl. His hand reached for my waist, holding me down while his other hand found my swollen clit, touching me there, heightening my pleasure.I placed my hands on his chest and hopped up and down. With every downward movement I made, a moan escaped my lips as his dick went in deep, fucking my core."Ohhh fucckkk," I raised my hands to my hair, threading my fingers through my already messy hair as sensations lashed me like

Monalisa POV.As we drove through the streets of Vegas, Greg was silent, not talking much.His mood was still considerably sour, and his lips were curved down in a thin line.I could see a muscle jump in his jaw and he was drawn so tight, his knuckles appeared white on the stirring wheel.I knew I'd wanted to upset him, but right now, he was looking too upset for my liking and it was beginning to get to me.His eyes were set on the road, driving ahead, sparing me no sideways glance.He was on full speed, his Ferrari speeding mercilessly as he swerved between cars, changing lanes and navigating the roads. Buildings flew past us on either side, and at some point, I felt I was literally flying."Greg, slow down," I said when he got very close to a car before overtaking.He didn't listen.He continued to fire ahead.This time around he got to a traffic light and it was red. Instead of stopping like the other cars, he zoomed past it.Holy Cow!"Greg, you just beat the traffic light," I rou

Monalisa POV. 11: 45 p.m. Later that Night. I lay on my bed gazing up at the ceiling, a wink of sleep hadn't crossed my eyes. After the Burglar incident this evening, I had been feeling nervous. I showed the Hostel Manager the mess and he promised to look into the matter. Our Hostel Hallways had CCTVs for security. But since the manager hadn't mentioned it, I knew the cameras weren't working. It was just there for show. Whoever had broken in must have known that the cameras weren't working, which drove my current suspicion. The Burglar was someone who lived in this building and was somehow involved with me. And the only name that came to mind was Ethan. However, I couldn't prove that it was him. With his multi-faced personality, people would readily believe him, over me, without an evidence. Gosh, I felt nervous even to be lying on my bed right now. The door hadn't been repaired, and the manager promised to fix it by tomorrow. So, for tonight, we just put u

Monalisa POV.The evening slowly came to an end and my shift ended at 10 p.m.Ethan was long gone after showing me his video.That guy wasn't okay in the head.He needed help, badly.I was so glad that I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore since I would now be staying somewhere else. Tonight was the last time I was going to tolerate him. The next time I saw him around me, I was definitely calling the cops.Work had ended for the day, so we packed up and closed shop. Until tomorrow, when we'll start all over again.I walked along the streets, heading back home. The thirty-minute walk I had to do, twice daily. That's not even including my morning walks to school.I considered it my own form of exercise, even though Greg had registered me at a gym in my neighborhood.I usually skipped breakfast, trying to get to my morning lectures. In the afternoon, during my free periods, I munched on a burger or a fish roll from the school's canteen while I worked on my notes, or read my books to

Monalisa POV. I fluffed my hair with my fingers, the curls bouncing over my shoulders as I stepped out of my cab. Today was Saturday and I was returning from the salon after getting a makeover. My stylist, Fiona, was an expert at what she did. She owned a big beauty shop with various sections for women's complete makeover. She'd turned my straight black hair into wavy, long curls, adding some purple and red highlights at the end to make it look like a dark, blooming flame. My nails and feet were properly manicured and pedicured. She had offered to fix artificial nail extensions, but I declined. I worked a waiting job, so I couldn't afford to flaunt those incredibly long claws. So instead, I told her to just polish my natural nails pink. I liked pink, it was my favorite color. My body was scrubbed and properly waxed, taking out every bit of hair in all areas. Even though Greg had told me to regrow my pubic hair, I just couldn't stand the sight. Especially after seeing how cleanl