Daki Cries Novels & Stories

Orgasm crashed first—waves ripping through, pussy spasming, milking his dick as she shuddered, vision blurring. Vardo didn't stop, pounding through her clench, sweat beading on his brow. 'Again. For us.' He hooked her legs over shoulders, folding her, driving deeper. Dickhead battered cervix, relentless. Nia's second peak hit like thunder, body arching, claws shredding his shirt completely. She bit his palm, stifling screams, walls fluttering wildly.

Her whole body is very hot while she also could not stop releasing a series of growls and gasps that caused her throat to dry completely. Consecutively, she does swallow afterward. But after that, she once again felt Jason's lips gave a very delicious sucking on her femininity so she moaned again. Just a few moments and suppressed screams are about to escape her mouth. But she knew she had to hold back. So she decided to reach for her extra pillow and then cover her face with it and there she let out the loud and sharp screams that she had been enduring to release. "Oh god! Hmmm ... Shit! Jason, it's so good!" he said removing the pillow from her face then with trembling hands grab the young

Are you guys okay? “Ahhh! Ghost!” Ferdinand almost fell from his bed, and the sound woke DaeDae who's sleeping on the crib beside his bed. The little one blinked then his face crumpled as he began to wail. [Pa?! What's happening to you?! Why is DaeDae crying? Is something wrong?] He heard Farrah shout with concern. “H-How are you alive?!” [Pa! What kind of joke is that? Am I supposed to be dead? That's kind of making me sad...] Farrah grumbled, and Ferdinand turned quiet.

She could still hear the running feet of the students. Dika snorted, her defiance as sharp as her tongue. She was the only one who dared to talk back to Nyxoria and live to tell the tale, the only one who had stood by her side on her first day at the Arcane. Dika was a tall, striking young woman, standing at 5'9. Her deep, rich dark complexion complemented her dark hair, which was meticulously plaited into neat cornrows that flowed freely at the end of her ponytail, adding to her commanding presence. She wasn’t just Nyxoria’s best friend; she was her fiercest ally, the most skilled fighter in the Arcane, and a daughter of the A****n Queen herself.

"You think I've been careful for six weeks because I don't feel anything?" She lifts her head. Looks at me. I look back and I don't hide any of it, everything I've been careful about, everything I've been containing, all of it right there on my face in my dining room at whatever time it is with her in my lap and her marks on my back. Her eyes go slightly glassy. "Don't you dare cry," I say. "I'm not crying," she replies, clearly about to cry. "Amara." "I'm not," she insists. A tear escapes. She wipes it furiously. "Shut up."

This is definitely a shock. "Yeah. She cried in my arms and it’s probably because she wasn’t in the right state of mind." "Oh. Why was she crying?" He raises his shoulder. "I have no idea, but I know it’s no other than Sam’s fault." I sigh. "Dex…" He shakes his head, stopping me. "I’m serious. I’m not trying to paint Sam as the bad guy just because I like Veronica or I want to be with her. He’s truly the bad one here. He’s abusing her and she wouldn’t say why. She was crying so hard earlier that my heart broke for her. Just imagine how hard it must have been for her to seek comfort in the same person she pushed away?"

A savage laugh sounded. Grinding my teeth, I withdrew my sword and watched him stumble back. I was aiming for his throat next, but before I could move, the ground beneath my feet quaked. Dahak raised his head and smiled. He extended his one arm toward Kaira… or rather, toward the dark crystals lying around her. Kaira shrieked, her body convulsing in pain as countless tendrils of black floated from the crystals toward him. He clenched his hand as if claiming the new power, drawing more and more…

My hands were placed right on top of the ice and snow, and it was so cold that my arms had become numb. I gritted my teeth and moved step by step. A short, three-mile journey took me three hours. I lived under the bridge, where many other homeless people were gathered. A little girl who was about seven or eight years old fell down in front of me. She was about to apologize when she looked up and saw the raised knife scars that criss-crossed my face, and she burst into tears at once from fear. "Where did you come from, you dirty beggar? Get away!"

She licked her chapped lips, she had been drained of blood in those seconds that her heart was finally pumping new ones and circulating it through her. Her legs felt like jellies and she almost crawled to the bed and sat down on it, she placed her hand on her chest one more time and closed her eyes, God, I’m alive, I am really alive, she thought as she covered her mouth with her hand as tears blurred her vision. Her father was the scariest men she had ever seen and she hated seeing him angry but this man, the man she just saw? She would gladly watch her father angry a million times than have another scene with that monster. It was as if his eyes were an empty vacuum, no, bottomless pit of he

His sobs were choked and all energy seemed to have been pulled from him and he did little more than swat at the hands that hauled him to his feet and over to the mast. "Try you do and try ya might!" He called out, struggling weakly as his back was straightened against the pole, ropes wrapped painfully about his bony midriff and wrists. "You'll end up like this! All of you! There's no hope..." The blackened moisture caught in the remnants of his beard, slipping between his lips and ceasing his words as the toxic tasting fluid held his tongue. But the tears still flowed, slow and constant as his chest heaved in silent sobs.