Novelas y relatos de Amor Después Del Matrimonio

Axelina smiled slightly while still staring at her husband's handsome face. "I really really love you, honey," said Axelina to Amar. Axelina kissed Amar's lips. Amar, who felt that his sleep was disturbed by his wife's kiss, pretended to be asleep. He wanted to hear what his wife had to say. "My happiness is with you, honey. You are my life and my passion to live my days. Thank you for giving me so much love. The love that increases every day for me. Being your partner is happiness for me. Thank you, darling, for being a good husband and best father to me and our son. In the second life, I pray to God to become your soul mate again. To be your wife and soulmate,” said Axelina to Amar. Amar,

He flew back the next day, defeated and silent, the F******k post deleted amid a backlash of comments calling him out for overreach. Victory tasted sweet, like the gelato we shared in bed that night—her legs draped over my shoulders, thrusting deep and punishing, her screams unbound as we claimed our future, bodies slick and entangled. Marriage loomed on the horizon, visas pending approval, but Florence was truly ours now. The drama faded like a bad dream, our love enduring stronger than ever. No regrets—only forward, hand in hand.

“You must have been cooking for days.” “Is nothing,” she said, but she smiled. There was flan for dessert, and then toasts to his parents’ anniversary and their continued happiness. “Adam and I have an announcement,” Javier said, while the glasses were still raised. “We’re getting married.” Everyone froze in place. “Married?” his mother asked. “It’s legal now, you know,” Javier said. “I hope that Adam and I will be as happy as you and Papi have been, for at least forty years.”

From the moment he found out about the pregnancy he’s been treating me like a fabergé egg. He touches me as if I might shatter into a thousand pieces if he applies more than a featherweight of pressure. The sex, if you can even call it that, has been tender, slow, and emotionally fulfilling, I suppose. It’s sweet. It’s loving. It’s boring as hell.

with her hands pulling wildly at my hair making my c*ck painfully hard had i just myself in my boxer, With her back arched of the bed I added two fingers into the mix without letting up on her clit, I licked, sucked and flicked my tongue, making her moan louder than before, holding her down on the bed I kept my assault on her clit sending her higher, higher until the fire that he build inside of her explode. Watching the aftershock still affected her as she moaned softly on the bed. he didn't last a second before he lost the battle himself. A few seconds later, he could hear that she had fallen asleep. Her breathing had returned to normal. I threw the sheets over her. Went down to the kitche

I felt a sharp ache replace the love I once felt. I immediately turned off the screen, not wanting to listen to whatever was left for them to say. The room seemed to spin, and my fingers began to tremble as I staggered back, my vision blurring from the sting of unshed tears. The words still linger in my mind. A bet? My marriage — my entire life– turns out to be just a sick game to Martin. A cruel game.

And he did. They crashed into each other like a wave against stone—needing, claiming, choosing. Clothes dropped to the floor in a trail of surrender. They made love slowly this time—no dominance, no possession—just skin, sighs, and promises whispered between gasps. She touched his scars. He kissed her tears. And when they lay tangled in the sheets, hearts pounding in sync, he turned to her. “I never thought I’d marry again,” he said. “You didn’t,” she whispered.

"Marriage is something serious! This is not a game like ours." "I've known you for six years, Angel! Six damn years! I know you better than Harvey!" Sean screamed as his hand punched the wall next to me. "And I know marriage is not a game. You promised to love your husband forever, but the fact is you betrayed your God. You love me!"

He looked more rattled by how calm I was than if I'd screamed in his face. "You played me!" he roared, hand clamping down harder. My wrist felt like it might crack under the pressure. "You think a piece of paper changes anything? You're mine. Always have been!" "I used to be," I said, slow and clear, like I wanted every syllable to land. "But the second you let someone else into your bed, I stopped being yours." His breathing turned wild. Chest heaving like he couldn't get enough air. "That was different!" he shot back, desperation leaking through. "Maria... that was a mistake! And I had no idea what my mother was doing!"