Are There Free Books Libraries Near Me With Popular Anime Novels?

He starts nibbling on my chest and starts pulling off my bra away from my chest. I couldn’t take it anymore, I push him away hard and scream loudly and fall off the couch and try to find my way towards the door. He laughs in a childlike manner and jumps on top of me and bites down on my shoulder blade. “Ahhh!! What are you doing! Get off me!!” I scream clawing on the wooden floor trying to get away from him.He sinks his teeth in me deeper and presses me down on the floor with all his body weight. Tears stream down my face while I groan in the excruciating pain that he is giving me. “Please I beg you, please stop.” I whisper closing my eyes slowly, stopping my struggle against him.He slowly lets me go and gets off me and sits in front of me. I close my eyes and feel his fingers dancing on my spine; he keeps running them back and forth humming a soft tune with his mouth. “What is your name pretty girl?” He slowly bounces his fingers on the soft skin of my thigh. “Isabelle.” I whisper softly.“I’m Daniel; I just wanted to play with you. Why would you hurt me, Isabelle?” He whispers my name coming closer to my ear.I could feel his hot breathe against my neck. A shiver runs down my spine when I feel him kiss my cheek and start to go down to my jaw while leaving small trails of wet kisses. “Please stop it; this is not playing, please.” I hold in my cries and try to push myself away from him.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

I shook my head as a dark chuckle escaped my lips. “I’m not her, Dimitri, can’t you see it? I will never be her,” My voice shook as I spoke, tears threatening to spill. Dimitri ran his fingers through his hair in distress. His usual cold demeanor slipping away as he walked towards me and grabbed me by my shoulder. I felt his fingers on my chin, forcing me to look at him. I swallowed. “You don’t understand, Dimitri,” My voice came out as a whisper. “You are in love with that woman. Not me. It has-it has never been me,” “I know who I want, Val and that person is you,” *** For years, Valeria Moore had lived her life as a substitute lover to Dimitri. She believed one day, he would see her for who she is and not as his lost mate who had the same face as her. But when Dimitri announced his engagement to Summer Wood, Val knew she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to cut all ties with him but now, Dimitri wasn’t ready to let her go. Not when he just realized she was pregnant for him.

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

"Ms. Smith, a complaint has been filed with HR. You have been accused of misusing your personal vehicle for unauthorized commercial activity." The administrative manager dropped a printed copy of the so-called joint complaint onto the desk, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The company had decided to issue me a fine, placed a formal warning on my record, and revoked my performance bonus for this quarter. I stared at the handwriting on the complaint, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. I recognized it instantly. It was Selena Rogers. The same coworker who had been hitching rides with me to and from work every day for the past three years. It was all because of last night's storm. She had insisted I take a long detour to drive her to the mall so she could pick up her boyfriend, and I had said no. Then, in the break room, Selena's voice carried loud and clear. "Jennifer, I didn't have a choice. "We have to keep work and personal matters separate. The transportation stipend from the company isn't for you to make extra money." Around us, coworkers glanced over, whispering and pointing, as if they had completely forgotten how eager they once were to ask for a ride home. I took a slow breath. "Fine. I accept the company's decision." Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Wallace, I won't be renewing the lease on those two vans. "Yes. The ones that have been picking up and dropping off the admin and sales teams every day, free of charge." For three years, I had been the easygoing one, paying out of my own pocket every month to lease those vehicles so my coworkers could treat it as a perk. If that was now considered unauthorized business activity, then from this day on, everyone could figure out their own way to get to work.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.