روايات وقصص ضمن Brushing Hair Cartoon

Everything quiets. Danielle's arms are thrown over my neck, her front pressed against mine, and her lips moving over mine. She's kissing me. Passionately, I might add. She's mewling against my lips and her fingers keep toying with the hair at my nape. Suddenly, she pulls away from me, and I almost drag her back into my arms when she whispers feverishly, "Please, kiss me." That's all it takes for me to press her back into the nearest wall and sink my fingers into her silky tresses.

“I’ll agree to this—but only if you stay out of my business.” “You have a deal,” the man chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender, his husky voice dripping with amusement. “But,” he added, stepping closer, his breath brushing against her ear, “you’ll have to agree to my conditions, too.” “I said I’d agree, didn’t I?” Sherry replied coolly. Her expression didn’t waver as she grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her eye level. “Mr. Smith,” she whispered, matching his tone with a quiet fierceness. Hah… This woman is going to drive me insane, Levian thought, already realizing this would be far from easy. ~~~ On her wedding day, Sherry is poisoned by her best friend. Her fiancé? At the hospital, he was celebrating the birth of his child with someone else. But fate rewinds the clock. Waking up a day before her death, Sherry has one goal: uncover the truth and take back control. However, as the secrets unravel, she realizes the betrayal runs deeper than she imagined. That's when the rumored Levian Smith makes her an offer: “Marry me, and I’ll stake my very soul for you.” Now, she must choose—revenge or redemption?

“This is wrong. You’re supposed to help me fix my marriage” “And yet here you are, squirming under my hands like you're begging me to break it” “You're too close… I can’t think straight when you’re this close” “Then stop thinking. Just feel.” He leans in, his breath brushing against my lips. “Tell me to stop Lillian—and I will. But if you don’t, I’m going to kiss and claim your body like I’ve imagined a thousand times on that chair” *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* When Lillian Calloway walks into marriage counseling, she’s desperate—not just to save her crumbling relationship with her emotionally distant husband, but to hold together the image of a perfect life. Then she meets Dr Ronan Carter. Calm, devastatingly handsome and far too familiar for her comfort. Each session unravels more than just the crack in her marriage—it exposes desires she’s locked away for years. Ronan makes her feel alive. And when the professional lines begin to blur, Lillian finds herself stepping on the edge of something forbidden. He’s her counselor. She’s his client. Falling for each other will cost them everything. But what if the biggest lie was the marriage they were trying to save?

I looked at her amused. I got up from my seat and stood infront of her. Not too close, not yet. ''You imagine too much Ms. Vitale. I can assure you that I'm not plotting anything, although I did plan something different". I whispered the last part. ''W-what?'' She asked looking confused. Cute. ''I'm sorry for what happened that day. You are right, I shouldn't have kissed you without your consent.'' I said taking a step forward. ''You are sorry?'' She asked looking surprised. I chuckled. ''Yes'' I said taking another step. She leaned back slightly, it's almost unnoticeable, but didn't move from her place. Trying to look brave huh? ''T-Then why are you doing all this?'' She asked in low voice. I took one last step. We are finally too close. I can feel the heat radiating from her body. I started trailing my fingers from her arm to collarbone, she shuddered and goosebumps erupted on her skin. I leaned down, brushing her earlobe with my lips, making her breath uneven. ''Are you in a relationship Ms. Vitale?'' ''N-No'' Her words came out in a whisper. ''Good.''

Grant, the heir to the Bennett family, had been my protector for over a decade. He taught me how to fire my first shot and saved me from every attempt on my life. After someone slipped drugs into Grant's drink at the family gathering, he stumbled into my room, and his icy control shattered. His hands found my waist as he pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered my name. A single night of drugged passion left me pregnant with his child. When my twin sister, Claire, found out, she left a note and disappeared, heartbroken. After that, I was cast as the cold-hearted villain who drove her own sister away. Grant personally forced the contraceptive potion down my throat and exiled me to the lawless territories beyond our family's control. To make me atone, he abandoned me to fend for myself in that desolate land. I was eventually killed in the crossfire of a mob war. As I lay dying, my mind was flooded with memories of Grant. The troublemaker he always called me was finally gone. He must have been relieved. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the morning after that disastrous night. This time, without hesitation, I drank the contraceptive potion myself.

"You keep pretending you don’t remember me,” he said quietly. I didn’t turn around. “You’re my stepson now.” A sharp laugh. “That’s not what you called me when your fingers were in my hair.” My breath shook. “That night meant nothing.” Then he leaned in, his breath brushing my cheek. “I shouldn't want you, you are married to my father, and somehow,” he murmured, “you're still the woman I can’t stop thinking about.” Camilla Moretti discovered the betrayal the worst way possible—secrets unraveled, lies laid bare. Her boyfriend had been sleeping with her best friend. She was pregnant. Broken and numb, Camilla vanished into the night and into the arms of a stranger whose name she never asked for, whose touch felt like an escape. By morning, her fate was sealed. She was married off to a powerful man nearly three times her age. Then the stranger walked into her new home as her stepson. With both of them jumping into conclusions they clash as enemies and they fought each other as fiercely as they wanted each other. Hatred became obsession, and obsession became a forbidden affair that would start a war neither of them could stop

“If you keep looking at me like that…” he murmurs, his lips brushing close to my ear, “I’ll have no choice but to ruin you before the night’s over.” I stiffen. “You can’t touch me.” His smirk deepens. “Touch you? Mrs. Romano…I intend to devour you.” *** She wasn’t supposed to be here. When her twin sister flees her arranged marriage to Dante Romano—the ruthless king of the New York underworld—Twenty two years old Annalissa is forced to take her sister's place. To wear her dress. To stand before the devil himself…and pray he doesn’t notice the switch. Dante is dangerous, arrogant, and used to owning everything he touches. And now, he owns her. Annalissa thinks she can survive this sham of a marriage. Play the part long enough to protect her family. But Dante Romano isn’t a man who can be fooled so easily. His gaze lingers too long. His words seem like they’re meant to rattle her. And maybe he already knows. Maybe he’s keeping her trapped in this twisted game to see how long before she breaks. Because in this game, there are no wrong brides. Only the ones the devil decides to keep. 18+

"Whose child is this?" His voice was cold and icy, blood shot eyes drilling holes in her watery ones. Scared, she cowered back only for her back to met the wall. A sob of pure horror left her parched throat, her hands lifting up to shield her already bruised face. "I asked," He stepped dangerously closer to her, his hot breath fanning the back of her hands. His sandalwood scent which used to calm her nerves in past, today did nothing other than heightening her fear. "Whose." His rough hands yanked her soft ones from her face, before clasping her jaw tightly, his fingers digging in her bruised skin making her wince. "Child" He whispered deadly, leaning down till his stern lips were brushing over her quivering ones. Tears after tears dripped down her cheeks. "Is in your stomach?" His already tight hold had tightened in bruising manner, making her flinch hard. Her head began to spin in fright, darkness invading her vision. Her heart pleading for some miracle. That wasn't the first question, her husband was supposed to ask her on her wedding night.

Seven years ago, my mafia husband, Sergio Wexler, had me committed to a psychiatric ward. On the day I was released, I changed my name, cut my hair short, and vanished like a ghost. Seven years later, we meet again at the grave of my brother, Luca Lorusso. The bouquet in his hand falls with a soft thud. Sergio clenches his fists tightly, barely holding back emotions that threaten to break through his usual calm. "Janella, why the short hair? I almost didn't recognize you. Where have you been all these years? After that fire at the psych ward, I pulled every string I had, but I never got any leads on you. I've been looking for you for seven years. I even thought you were… dead." When I stay silent, he rubs his red-rimmed eyes. "You're avoiding me, aren't you? Do you still hate me for having you locked up? Believe me, I had no choice." I let out a bitter laugh. Sergio killed Luca to become the Don. He slept with Luca's woman and locked me in that dark, windowless "special ward", nearly erasing me from existence. And now, here he is at Luca's grave, playing the victim. To me, any love and hate I had for Sergio died long ago in that tiny, suffocating ward. Now, he's just a stranger to me.

After an attack by rogues, Angel, at the age of 6, was orphaned by his mother and was sent by his father to live with his uncle in England. Behind, he leaves the alpha's children, his best friends. After 12 years, when he finally returned to the pack that saw him born, Angel was no longer the little kid who left but a beautiful boy with blond hair and light eyes, tall, strong, and athletic. After a rogue attack, Angel loses his mother. At the age of 6, he is sent by his father to live with his uncle in England. Behind, he leaves the alpha's children, his best friends. After 12 years, when he finally returned to the pack that saw him born, Angel was no longer the little kid who left but a beautiful boy with blond hair and light eyes, tall, strong, and athletic. The life changes that he had made were not easy. Choosing between his uncle's pack, the school he attended, the human boyfriend he had left behind, and the pack where the father who didn't love him was the Beta, where a more rural life awaited him, left him on edge. Everything becomes more complicated when the friend who turned his back on him, hurting him and making him cry when he was only five years old, introduces himself as his mate. Will Angel accept all the changes that life brings or give up and return to England and the arms of his human boyfriend? This is the story of an Angel: not an angel with wings but one full of love in his heart.