Booktok Doorframe Lean Novels & Stories

"I knew; I married you on condition!" He hugged her behind, wrapping his hands around her waist. "BUT YOU ARE SOMETHING." He turned her back and pressed her against the mirror, placing his hands on either of her sides and caging her in his arms. "I AM ADDICTED TO YOU!" He looked down at her lips before pressing her lower lip between his fingers. A pleasurable moan escaped from her mouth and she closed her eyes, while making him groan "I thought I'd never love anyone again in my life, but you changed me." He lifted her head, taking her chin in his calloused hand. She shivered in response, and her heart started pounding into her ears. His eyes are darkened with a mixture of feelings. She can't help but notice him. He is 190 cm tall with broad shoulders and a muscular body and his flat abs are touching her body, which is giving her goosebumps. The lean angle of his cheekbones and his strong jaw looked like they could have been sculpted by an artist. She is placing her hand on his chiseled chest, feeling his abs and the warmth of his body spreading through her body as he is standing between her legs. "Your scent makes me crazy!" He bent down, whispering in her ear while biting her earlobe before her cheeks in his hands. It's been a couple of months since they got married, even though she feels shy under him—her fingers are tracing down on his biceps. He grabbed her hair, taking her lips into a chaste kiss. Jenny was a babysitter of the twins of Williams, but one day her boss proposed to her for the marriage to became the mother of his kids. How will she fulfill her husband's desires and journey with twins?

“You think you can tame an old daddy like me?” Mr. Domenico Lombardi’s stone-like voice makes me nervous, but I’m not backing down; I know what I want. “Yes,” I added a nod to confirm it but cursed internally at my luck. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and here I am trying to tame a man old enough to be my father. It is said that the apple does not fall far from the tree. I guess I am truly Kate’s daughter. I had an internal laugh at my stupidity. He scoffed, and I responded by nodding once more while watching the darkening of the silvery gray pupils in his eyes. How come? I brush it off as his cold eyes wash over me. Domenico Lombardi’s presence makes me squirm. When I’m around him, I get the impression that I’m being judged and ignored at every turn. “How old are you?” “18” “How old is your father?” “38,” I replied truthfully. “Well, I’m 37 years old.” He stared at me; his eyes darkened again, and I became terrified. I fiddle with my nails, clipping them together as I lean back on my heels to help relieve some of the anxiety he’s causing me. “You see, I’m like a father to you, or maybe a grandfather or a great-great-grandfather. How many boyfriends have you had in your life?” “None.” He chuckled as I responded. “You see, I’ve lost count of how many ladies I’ve fucked, thousands or millions, over the centuries. You are just a little girl to me with nothing to offer; now, get lost!” “My panties made you hard!” “You think so?” “Yes,” I responded confidently. “Well, I wasn’t hard; I just have a donkey-like cock.”

Before my death, I repeatedly remind my son, Clark Sinclair, what to do after I pass away. I stress that my heart must be donated to my husband, Craig Sinclair. He has suffered from dilated cardiomyopathy for 30 years. This is the last thing I can do for him. Clark shakes me off impatiently and snaps, "Enough. Stop pretending to be kind. Dad was never sick." I think I must have misheard him. "What?" He lets out a cold laugh and continues, "If you hadn't refused to divorce him all these years, why would he have needed to fake an illness just to be with Vern in secret?" My whole body trembles as I demand proof. Clark hands me a marriage certificate. On it are the names Craig and Verna Bloom, my widowed sister-in-law. The two lean against each other intimately, smiling sweetly at the camera. In an instant, rage and grief overwhelm me. The family I spend half my life building turns out to be nothing more than a complete lie. Clark continues expressionlessly, "Actually, Vern is my real mother. Your child was drowned in a bathtub long ago. Back then, Dad and Vern couldn't resist each other. She went into premature labor and nearly bled to death. She gave birth to me on the same day you gave birth. "Dad was so frightened that he developed heart palpitations. He was afraid you'd never stop causing trouble if you found out, so he pretended to be sick for 30 years." Curled up on the floor, I cough up a mouthful of blood. "Why tell me now?" Clark looks at me with eyes full of nothing but hatred. "You stole Vern's place for 30 years. And now, even on your deathbed, you want my dad to owe you a favor. Why should he?" An inexplicably bitter taste fills my mouth. In the end, I die consumed by regret. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the delivery room next to Verna's. A wave of excruciating pain surges through my lower body.