Besto Friendo Shirt

Damn, you're delicious," he murmured into her mouth. "You taste like a goddess." She heard the sound of his belt buckle, and her frantic heart stopped because she knew what was coming. "Damn, I need to be inside you," he declared with a hint of desperation that she loved. She reacted and helped him free himself from his pants because she needed it, too, and she needed it now. But when his member was finally free, and she felt him position himself, his gaze wandered for a moment to a spot behind them. It was only for a second, but that second was enough to see how the entire expression on his face transformed. The desire froze, and instead of the fiery, passionate man from a moment ago, he was that block of ice he usually was again. He took two steps back and looked down. She sat up, confused. "What's wrong?" she asked, baffled. He tensed his jaw and shook his head while zipping up his pants again. A whirlwind of emotions crowded her chest and got stuck in her throat. "Enzo," she called out, but he didn't respond. He bent down to pick up his shirt and walked toward his room without looking at her. "Enzo!" she yelled, but he ignored her and entered his room, slamming the door. She was left on the island, naked, not understanding anything. All the fire went out, giving way to a sadness that settled in her heart. He rejected her. Enzo rejected her. After his wife’s death, Enzo Romano swore his heart was buried with her. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. But when duty forces him into a contract marriage with innocent Arianna, the girl who secretly adores him, she finds herself falling for a man who will never love her back.

As I laid there waiting for sleep to take me. I was startled as my eyes drifted they landed on a human shaped shadow again by the bathroom door. I tried to roll. Nothing happened. Scared now, I tried to reach my phone. My arms wouldn’t move. My breathing was getting rapid. The only thing that would move is my eyes. Why can’t I move? From the corner of my eye, I saw it. The shadow moved from the doorframe towards me. It was an ambiguous huge male human shape with a hat on its head. Once it reached the bed, it stopped. Less than a foot from me and I couldn’t make out any details. My heart was racing, and my breathing was ragged. Male knuckles traced my jaw from my ear to my chin. The touch was gentle. Intimate even. A husky, seductive chuckle filled the air that still smelt of the candle. “I know what you need little gazelle.” The shadow shimmered. Now I could see the details. He was at least six foot two. Dark skin, bald head, and wearing jeans that clung to his muscled legs. An unbuttoned dark purple shirt displayed his taunt chest. The moonlight showed his beautiful smile as he leaned towards me. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. “Shhh. I’m going to make it all better.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. Vivienne needed a get away from the stress of her life. Having heard her best friend sing the praises of Helen, GA. she decided to spend a week in cute cabin and decompress. Instead her dreams are invaded by a mysterious sensual man with swirling purple eyes. Soon she wonders if he’s more than just the man of her dreams.

“Ah!” I moan, tilting my head to the side as his lips find the sweet spot on my neck. My hands move to his chest, and I undo his buttons with haste while his lips devour mine like it’s their favorite meal, our tongues wrestling for control. I chuck the shirt aside but gasp in surprise when he suddenly pushes me against the wall before resuming his sweet torture on my neck. “You smell so good,” he growls against my ear, his voice sounding inhumane and I don’t know how he did that, but it covers my body in goosebumps. I shiver, moaning loudly while tilting my head to the side to grant him more access and when I look into his eyes, I can almost swear I saw the white disappear, causing me to blink rapidly, my brain turning to mush. "Mm!" I grip his pants, my breathing uneven as his left hand slowly travels past my stomach and slips between my thighs before rubbing circles on top of my last piece of clothing. I become a moaning, trembling, horny mess, desperate for a release, as I sink my nails into his thighs, poking holes in his pants before my body convulses and I come undone. ..... Evaki becomes the first human to be mated to a royal and a Lycan. Despite her newfound status, she faces persistent discrimination and prejudice from those who see her as weak and a disgrace to the royal family. The newly crowned queen is determined to prove herself and win their approval. But what happens when she's dealt yet another blow and her mate is forced to take another, adding to Evaki's struggles as she fights to gain acceptance and prove her worth in a society that sees her as inferior?

Sometimes God gave you what you want, sometimes you were born a werewolf rather than some pathetic little human, sometimes you got a chance to become a Human queen and rule both species… And, just like that, sometimes life fucked you up by letting you meet your mate whom you're supposed to reject, sometimes things get even more fucked up when your mate turns out to be a priest, the person who raised you, and sometimes your fucked up mind decided to seduce him. No, the fucked up things didn't stop yet, sometimes that person who always treated you like a child, the person who was not even supposed to touch any woman, responds to your innocent kiss by eating up your wet filthy hole as if his life depended on it as if the world is ending, and he will never get to eat again, and the thing between your thighs seems like the sweetest dessert to him. And finally, sometimes, you forget all the rules, you forget what is right and what is wrong when your miserable heart dares to yearn for someone you weren't even supposed to dream about, a saint. ••• " Remove your clothes, Freya.", he ordered in a low husky voice. But I didn't move...couldn't move as I watched him. His big body leaned over a bundle of dry grass, tight black shirt covered his hard chest, two buttons open, showing his pale white skin, his belt...now opened, slack just down enough for his dick to pop out, thick veiny shaft, wrapped under his slender fingers, its head, red as if his dick was angry. And when I looked up at his face, I couldn't believe he was the same man who raised me!

Belle Miller at twenty three decides to lose her virginity to a stranger she met via an app named sex mate. After her one night stand with Ben, she hopes not to see him again but fate disagrees and lead her to him again. She finds out he is the famous Billionaire Ben Larkson and didn't know how to feel about it. On the other hand Ben wants her and even though he believes he doesn't love her just because he isn't a romantic, he still acts possessive over her. Read through to find out how his obsession for Belle turns into love, how he falls in love with her through their lust. Teaser:. Ben finished what he was reading before giving his attention to the Mrs Johnson he was expecting. Looking up from his laptop he saw a familiar face walking clumsily to his desk, wearing a shirt and a corporate trouser, with her papers scattered in her hands. Was she the Mrs Johnson? Did she lie about her name on the app? But she looked so innocent to do that. Belle Miller, he could remember her name from that night, it had been in his head all through Sunday. If she was the Mrs Johnson, then she was married, did she really make up a name? But then again, she was a virgin, he was her first, so she probably was a new bride. With all this thought on his mind, he just sat there gazing at her in shock. Did she use him? Did she use him to get her one night fling before beginning her married life? 'She was married.' It couldn't be, he wanted her again in his bed, he wanted this woman and she was married!

Twenty-six, brilliant, and achingly untouched, PhD student Cassie walks into the city’s most exclusive sex club because of a bet against her virginity. She chooses him blindly: a cruel Dom who drags her to the hidden chambers, spreads her trembling thighs, and takes her virginity with slow, savage thrusts while she screams. She never sees his face. She buries the memory under ambition, until her mother’s death forces her back to her home. Her brother offers her an internship with his best friend, Reginald Walker; an introverted, lethal and impossibly controlled CEO. The man whose mere presence makes her wet and reckless. Cassie pushes until Reggie snaps, chains her on the wooden crucifix, spreads her legs and fucks her till she's speaking in tongues. Despite the fact that Reggie cannot do emotions, their secret affair turns raw and desperate: His hand is always fisted in her hair, his neck filled with hickeys that his shirt cannot hide. Their love and lust is so violent it terrifies them both. Then the devil returns. Lucien is the one who broke Cassie's virginity and he recognises her one night, when Cassie moans Reggie's name at the Forbidden. He wants a taste of her again and asks Reggie to share, as sometimes they shared subs. Reggie refuses. Lucien vows to get her. When Reggie's past is dug up and dirty secrets are revealed, the trust in the relationship is broken. Cassie runs to her brother with a broken heart. Reggie drowns in whiskey and self-loathing. On his knees in the rain,he begs for her forgiveness and love. She gives it, but nothing is the same again. They start over slowly, trying to rebuild what Lucien nearly destroyed. One careful kiss, one trembling “I love you,” one fragile heartbeat at a time.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

EXCERPT "Got you." His voice echoed above my head sending goosebumps up my spine as he pinned my wrist above my head. My pulse sped up as a traitorous and familiar heat began to appear between my legs. As if sensing the effect he had on me, his smirk widened, a devious glint appearing his his cold blue eyes. I shivered as I stared into those blue orbs that no longer held any warm affection. All that it held was raw hunger and an intense desire to possess that made me want to run. He was different. He was very dangerous. "Run again," he growled, thumb tracing the scar on my wrist—the one he’d kissed better a lifetime ago. "And I’ll chain you to my bed in the name of the man who owns you. "I’m not yours—" The rest of my words died down as he crushed his mouth to mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle—it was rough and held a lot of anger. I hated how my knees buckled. How my hands fisted in his shirt instead of shoving him away. BLURB Elena was wolfless. She was scorned, bullied, and named a jinx. She had accepted her fate and thought that she would be alone forever. Then he came. The Alpha King’s son. . He cut through her defenses and loved her like no one else did. Their bond grew stronger than any other every day, but good things never last. Dark secrets begin to get unlocked. Secrets that threaten to destroy Elena and everything that she is. Worse still, all those weapons in the form of secrets are closely related to her mate. Love turned to hate. Passion turned to fury. Will their bond, which once stood so firmly, stand the test of fate?

My cousin, Myra Walsh, leaves a voice message in the family group chat in a mean and uncouth manner. "Mom, I'm not meeting that guy who drives a rundown car. One look at him tells me that he's a single pathetic loser." She then kicks my chair. "Hey Sam, that useless piece of shit is a good match for you. Why don't you take my place on the blind date?" I follow Myra's line of sight. There's an old-looking car parked outside, and the owner, Henry Quinton, is currently reclining against the car while smoking. My entire family thinks he's just an ex-convict who has just gotten released from prison and is unable to land a job yet. I'm the only one who knows that's not the truth. Last week, when I was carrying out my internship at a bank, I witnessed the bank manager inviting Henry into the vault. Apparently, the trail of numbers Henry has in his savings is as long as a phone number. After putting on some makeup on my face to make me pure and innocent, I put on an oversized shirt before heading out of the apartment. In the cold wind, I cower slightly from the cold as I hand a thermos flask over to Henry. "Sir, Maya said she's not a match for you, so I'm here in her place." Henry snuffs out his cigarette, his gaze fixing on my flapping hem for three seconds. "Lass, if you want to be with me, you'll have to suffer tremendously in life." "I'm willing to go through anything as long as I get to be with you." That night, Maya flaunts photos of the bag a rich scion has given her. As for me, I've gone over to Henry's apartment.