Craving Helen Hardt 소설 & 이야기

Within my grasp. Engorged myself in her scent. Her picture on the Craving Sugar website didn't do her any justice. Long, light brown hair flowed down the middle of her back in waves. Large doe eyes the color of gems stared up at me with trepidation mixed with want. Upturned nose wrinkled each time she watched me with curiosity. Pouty pink lips that would look beautiful stretched around my cock. Get it the fuck together. She's here for a paycheck and nothing more. The perfect sugar whore.

"Shut up, I am his girlfriend and Tony is not coming back to you, get off our life..." "Hey, is that not my phone? Let me have it." Tony talks in his drunk state, and it is obvious he is there with the girl, Cathy falls to the floor and cries, Helen is a hellhound, she is a devil, who could do anything just to get what she wants "You go on and unclothed him, you should know what to do, with a nude boy." "What?" "Idiot, stop asking me questions, why did I pay you? I don't think it's this easy, so go on." As she made out with Tony, Helen videoed it, she picked up Tony's phone and sent the pictures to Cathy.

Helen gave her a smile and moved to the kitchen while Brandon stared at her. "This is a hefty meal. It's a full chicken for just two people and you want mashed potatoes with it?" He asked her. "Mashed potatoes are out of the topic now. Grilled cheese, instead." Emma said to him with a shrug. Helen knew how cravings for a pregnant woman could be. She may want one thing now and if it doesn't come as fast as she wanted, then she may as well move to the next thing. So she worked swiftly to make sure Emma got what she wanted as quickly as possible.

Helen’s POV When I betrayed Vincent and aligned myself with Aaron, a greedy desire consumed me. I yearned to become the Luna of the esteemed Silver Moon Pack, under the leadership of the formidable Alpha Lycan, Aaron. Confidence coursed through my veins, for I possessed unparalleled beauty and hailed from a wealthy and influential Beta lineage. I believed that these qualities would secure my rightful place by Aaron's side. Yet, my aspirations crumbled into dust when I discovered that Aaron had found a new love. And to my dismay, that love was none other than Olive, the woman Vincent had discarded – a half-breed.

He had an English and Swiss citizenship after spending half his life studying in Switzerland. Helen was married to an American Hydro Biologist who was also downstairs socializing with the other family members. Helen was blessed with a child, a daughter who was 12yrs old and psychologically unstable after being sexually molested by her ballet master at the age of 10. The ballet master was currently lying dead at an undisclosed location. The bastard fled town after a police complaint was lodged against him by Helen. JRT had wasted no time in sending someone from the underworld to track him down and torture him until he begged for death before he was finally buried alive.

He took me in the walk-in pantry while the gardener was outside. Bent over the washing machine in the laundry room. Once, I even initiated it, catching him in the hallway after lunch, dropping to my knees, and sucking him until he came down my throat with a strangled curse. I was addicted and completely. The old hate had turned into something darker and hungrier. I needed him inside me like I needed air. The third night, Damon came to my room with something new in his eyes. He spent a long time opening me up with his fingers and tongue, then slowly worked the tip of his cock against my ass.

Not hers. You can’t heal what you still crave. Her heart froze. She flipped through the book—no other notes. Just that one, in his precise, slanted hand. The next breath she drew felt borrowed again. ***** The note stayed with her. Not just the words, but the way the letters leaned forward, as if even ink could command obedience. You can’t heal what you still crave. Evelyn read it until she could almost hear him saying it. Every syllable a reminder, every curve of the handwriting a hook.

"Excuse me?" "I was trying to be reasonable. Trying to be sympathetic. Trying to connect with you like we're on the same level." She laughed bitterly. "But we're not, are we? You're just Arthur's leftovers. His assistant. A nobody who thought she could trap a Klein with a baby and is now bitter because it didn't work." There it was. The real Helen. "Feel better now?" I asked calmly. "You think you're so special. So smart. Walking around here like you're some tragic victim everyone should feel sorry for." Helen stepped closer.

Forty minutes. What are they talking about up there? What “sensitive business” requires them to be alone for this long? I pull out my phone and do what I probably shouldn’t: I G****e “Candice Zurich businesswoman.” Several results come up, but one catches my eye. Candice Hartwell, CEO of Hartwell Industries I click the link. There’s a photo. It’s her. Younger, maybe five years ago, standing next to a man at some charity gala.

“You might be able to avoid me now. But I’ll never stop until I have you, Olivia.” He went back into his room, leaving me there, trembling. When Antony came back down, I looked at him. He handed me Dent’s car keys. “Dent asked me to drink with him at a bar. He seemed troubled. He drank a lot, even though his alcohol tolerance is low. So—” I stopped him with a hand gesture. I already knew what he was trying to say. He rubbed the back of his neck, speaking carefully. “Dent kept rambling that he couldn’t… get it up with you. He…” Antony hesitated, but I forced him to continue. “…he also tried hiring a prostitute, and… the result was the same.”