What Is Another Word For Slowly In Writing?

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

WARNING: This novel contains a lot of mature erotic content that explores human desire, it's not for the weak. So take note please.  If you find it offensive you are free to leave now without even going further. Please don't say I didn't warn you. Some secrets are whispered, while some are moaned. You never say it out loud. Each ending chapter leaves you aching for more. It's a pure erotic collection and unfiltered passion. So, if you are uncomfortable with the explicit scenes that cross the boundaries, then I guess this book is not for you. I’m telling you now. I repeat  Because the book itself sounds dirty from the name like hell, what do you expect? Of course, it's a smut story that takes readers on an eclectic journey with a diverse sexual landscape of characters.  It is written for dark-minded adult readers who embrace fantasies and primal imagination. So if you are searching for a hot, highly erotic, dirty, wild sex novel, then no worries, you've gotten one.  So if you think this is for you, then you should get to have a lot of power struggles, mind games, and of course moments that blur the lines between pleasure and surrender. The book contains: Lesbian. Gay.  Horny stepmom. Secretary and CEO. And lots more. So sit back, grab your popcorn and I bet you will enjoy it.  It is rated 18… If you can handle the heat then please let's drive in because things will be messy while reading.  Thank you.

He stood in front of me, held my face between his hands and stared down at me. I waited, once again, I did. For what? This time I didn't know. But the moment he spoke, I knew, the wait was over. "You waited." He said. I gasped. " You waited." He breathed.

The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has two parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer’s poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different comparing to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

We can't really control time, if time paused we can't really do anything about it. If the time starts to move again then take chances before it's too late. During their past life, they already know will come to an end. But a chance was given for them to live and find each other to love again.

“Is this true?” I asked. I can’t believe of what I have read on the posts on the social media account of the two writers that I met, Sketch and Doodle. I read again the post of Sketch. I thought of something, not because there will be no update on his story but because of his post however I can’t remember where I read it before. Then, I read what Doodle had posted. I suddenly remember my story and I read the last scene that I wrote; same words, same scenarios and same comments like how I read their posts. I doubt quite a bit but really it amazed me which I don’t know why. That is why I read some of their last few posts and it was quite surreal which leads to a coincidental from the turn of events on what their real life is and on what I wrote. I won’t pay any attention to what is going on because I know it wouldn’t happen. It seems like my suspicion is true… the things that I’m writing is coming true when there are real people that’s involved on my story however I need to investigate this. Sketch wasn’t talking while driving, I can see on Doodle eyes how amazed he is while we travel, seeing a fine nature is really amazing while I seldom talk just to point where we have to move. I noticed Sketch glanced at me. I smiled. “I’m actually kidnapping both of you and you two are willing victim.” Sketch stepped on the breaks and it made a big screech of the car. “What?!” they both asked.