Author 50 Shades Of Grey Novels & Stories

Some friend she was, leaving me all alone with the big bad wolf, who looked ready to bite as he settled into her seat. "I-I-I wasn't talking about you sir, it-it's just this movie I watched last night—" He leaned close, a smirk on his face, eyebrows raised. "Oh really?" I nodded eagerly. "Yeah." "Title?" I stared absent-mindedly at his lips... they were so pink, so full and lustrous. I shook my head to clear the fog in my head. "Huh?" "What's the name of the movie?" He clarified. I said the first thing that came to mind, "Oh... uh-uhm, Fifty Shades of Grey." then paled when I realized what I had just said.

I turned the projector on, and the presenter's face appeared on screen again, but my gaze was fixed on Lena's dripping pussy. “Sorry, I'm late,” I muttered as Lena rubbed her clit, throwing her head backward in pleasure. “I couldn't find the medications quickly.” “No problem sir, we can continue now.” He replied as he started to state his pitch again but I needed Lena's eyes on me while she touched herself. “Look at me,” I muttered and Lena's eyes met mine while the presenter looked at me in confusion. “Did you say something sir?” He asked and I quickly waved it off, gesturing for him to continue. The moment Lena slipped two fingers into her glistening hole, I let out a soft “fuck”.

Grey. The name hit her like a punch to the chest. It was familiar. Not from her past. Not from the trauma. But in a strange way, it fit. She hadn’t asked for his name. And yet, hearing it now… Grey. The color of twilight. Of ash. Of the space between light and dark. She didn’t realize she was gripping the clipboard until her knuckles turned white. “Keep monitoring him,” she said quietly. “Page me if there’s any change.”

But now, with Liam’s flash drive burning a hole in my palm, I finally understood. With a reluctant sigh, I slotted the flash drive into the port. The screen blinked once, twice, then a file popped open automatically. No choice. No options. Just one direction…straight into whatever Liam wanted me to see. The screen loaded, and my stomach twisted. A movie. The bold letters appeared across the screen: Fifty Shades of Grey. My mouth went dry. What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?

The national federation’s training center smelled of heavy bleach and damp tile, a sharp, clean scent that Naomi breathed in like oxygen. Her first month on the pool deck was an exercise in translation. She had spent a lifetime swimming by instinct, relying on a body that intuitively understood how to catch and pull water. Now, with a right hand that could no longer hold a perfect paddle shape due to irreversible nerve damage, she had to find the words for things she had only ever known as a feeling.

He was the worst— out of them. ~•~•~•~•~ Saumya Tripathi | Different shades of him. Copyrights © 2024 by Saumya Tripathi. All rights reserved. The author neither promotes nor supports the actions mentioned in this story. It is purely fictional and should be taken as such. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without my prior written permission. Note that this is an ongoing story, and therefore subject to change. All copies published are the party of Saumya Tripathi.

Underneath, in block letters: W.R. ROANE – KEY AUTHOR AUTHORITY: HIGH ACCESS: PARTIAL Besides that, the tiny pen icon pulsed like a heartbeat. My stomach lurched. The thought of all those anonymous, faceless watchers seeing my face blown up that big made my skin crawl. The word AUTHORITY under it made me want to laugh and throw up at the same time. “So that’s new,” Jax muttered at my shoulder. “Congrats, horror girl. You’re trending.” The ground thrummed.

Lauren walked on the edge of the road—there were no sidewalks in her development—thinking about what she’d seen in the throes of her migraine two days before, and about the floating book, and also about David and his sudden predictions. Her abdomen felt puffy and twisted at the same time, and she’d put on jeans instead of shorts even though it was hot out. She was afraid—and she knew it was an irrational fear—that her period might leak out of the side of her underpants and then the blood would run down her legs and if she wore shorts then everyone would see.

Chapter 74 Dante Icarus Looking at the records in front of me, the files that are supposed to be easy to analyze, I find myself boiling in rage as the words blur in my vision. Twenty-two attempts at killing one man and he's not dead yet. I breathe, banging my fist on the desk, my eyes flashing in anger. This is absolutely impossible. This piece of information is something I can't fathom. Usually, one is all it takes, especially when I send my sharpest blade who goes by the name of Zora. But this time around, it takes a hell more than one, and even then there doesn't seem to be any results.