After Me Book Novels & Stories

Jace POV It’s been an hour since Yanna left to go to the clothing store. And until now I still can’t take her out of my mind. There’s just too many questions running in my mind about her right now. From her disappearance after we both graduated from high school, then after she fully gave herself to me. She even dare to left me with a fucking letter. And now, I know for sure that there is no one else but me who she made love to. I can feel it on how tight and innocent she is when we have sex earlier.

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I quickly rushed to it, tears forming around the corner of my eyes. Placing the book in my hands, it felt huge and sparkly. A huge picture of Justin Bieber hung carelessly from the covers, trying to get loose. I straightened it with my hands. It was locked. The last time I wrote on this was when mum was sick. I'd spend all night composing poems of how I wished for a totally different scenario. I straightened it once again. "We thought it was best you opened it yourself," anziano voice echoed from the door.

I ran straight to Elijah's office to tell him the good news. As soon as I entered, however, I saw him embracing his secretary in a very compromising position. Seeing me arrive, not only did Elijah not stop, but he even thrust harder into the woman beneath him, as if deliberately provoking me. He succeeded, of course, and I stumbled down the stairs in a daze, falling from the tenth floor to the eighth. Just like that, the baby was gone. I lost not only my ability to have children, but also the love I once had for him.

Too late. “But you'll catch a cold.” I pouted slightly. He finally placed his book on his lap, removing his glasses as if to take a better look at me. Gosh, he looks so heavenly. “And why do you care?” He asked, his voice melting my insides. I wished my body wouldn't get so hot and prickly from just hearing his voice. It was like his gaze was undressing me even if it did nothing of such. Oh goodness, I can't even remember how I went from resenting having him with me every fucking second now to craving his touch. Even if it was just once.

she fakes an innocent expression and roll your eyes. Castiel runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep breath, he mentally counted to five so as not to strangle the girl, he knew she wouldn't get rid of her without getting into more trouble, after all she was the source of all his headaches. He approached Alicia and stood looking down on her, but the girl arranged some pillows and lay down on the couch, not caring about the other's attitude, she didn't get scared.

I’ve always been crazy about books. Ever since I was a kid, I’d spend hours in the library, running my fingers over the covers, breathing in that old paper smell. It’s like the stories were part of me. My name is Eliza, and I run this small library in a quiet town. No one comes here much, which is fine by me. It gives me time to be alone with my books. But my love for them has turned into something more. I have this secret fetish. I dream about the characters jumping out of the pages and touching me, holding me, doing things to me that make my body heat up. It’s embarrassing to admit, but just thinking about it gets me excited. My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I

Chapter 3 Everything comes back in messy little pieces. The annoying buzz of the lights, the way the sticky table is glued to my sweaty back and thighs, the gross-sweet smell of leftover soy sauce mixed with sex hanging heavy in the room. My body feels wrecked in the best way, all loose and melty, like I sank into the wood. My pussy’s still fluttering from that last orgasm, tiny aftershocks that make me clench my teeth and breathe funny. I don’t wanna move. I could just lie here forever, floating in this warm haze.

He exhales, eyes fully awake. "Now, this is life," he grabs my ass, slapping it, and I giggle softly, starting to move my waist and hips. Our moans and groans fill the suite. A/N: Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you want to learn more about my work, you can follow my I* book account, authorshunshine97, or my F* page, Author-Mercy Sunshine.

Six days until Saturday. Sunday night. Once the house fell quiet again, I sat at the kitchen island nursing a glass of water, the compass charm spinning slowly with every movement of my fingers. My phone lay beside it, the drafted message still open. I retyped it a fourth time — shorter now, stripped of corporate padding — and before I could delete it again, hit send. 22:11. Good night, Nikau. Thank you for the card and the bracelet. — Sekar