Romans & histoires Dbz Gohan Theme

Disclaimer: This story has 18+ Sexual Theme and Violence, no one under 18 is allowed to read this. *"Are you sure you're ready for this? Are you willing to give yourself to me?" The intensity of his gaze made me want to do anything for him. His eyelids were heavy, his breath wild and thirsty for me—exactly what I had always wanted, for him to be crazy for me. "I give you all of myself, as long as you'll have me," I whispered in his ear, kissing his neck. His hand moved up my back, slowly unhooking my bra, caressing my neck with the back of his fingers. As my bra fell away, he took a moment to look at me, sighing in amazement. "You are beautiful, Julia," he murmured, kissing my neck. I tilted my head back, heart pounding as he whispered against the skin of my chest, "You are mine, Julia." He pressed his ear to my chest. "Did you hear that? That heartbeat calls my name!"* *Growing up in my childhood town, it was my dream to pursue my Music Career. Like any ordinary teenager, I had millions of dreams: To go on a world tour, perform on stage, to become famous. I couldn't have thought I was cursed decades before I was even born, and then I had to come back to my mother's hometown, thinking I might escape him, while accidentally landing in his trap. And then, I met them - two captivating men who stole my heart with their charismatic presence and mysterious allure. Now I'm torn between them in a world where I'm not allowed to fall in love. --- I'm Julia Murphy, and I'm marked by a demon, who won't stop at anything until he gets his claws on me.*

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"