Romans & histoires Delicious In Dungeon Marcille Love Interest

“Your acting’s really good. You really are Clinton’s mother. You’re just as shameless as he is! Well, if you like putting on a show so much, keep doing it! Lie there all day if you can!” After that, Alyse turned and walked off in her high heels without hesitation. She went into another hospital ward. In the hospital bed lay a handsome man. His face was pale, but he looked extremely frail. It was Antoine Mercier, Alyse’s first love; the man she cared so much about. When he saw Alyse, Antoine’s eyes lit up with hope. “Alyse, have you found Clinton?” That was indeed the case. Alyse had expended so much effort to torment my family just for Antoine.

She did not know exactly what it was but she was sure she had never felt it with anyone before, not even with Charles, her boyfriend. Dante returned to the room about two minutes later and handed a cup of ice cream to Mireille. "Vanilla.... I suppose that is still your favourite" "Yes" Dante returned to his seat opposite her and Mireille began taking the ice cream. She used the spoon a few times before sticking out her tongue and licking the ice cream right from its cup. Dante let out a hot breath as his imagination ran wild. How good would it feel to have her tongue licking his cum instead of ice cream.

"You really didn't do anything strange, did you? I was out of the office all day, and Niken didn't even give me a clue as to your whereabouts." Marc smiled slightly. Of course Niken wouldn't give away the big secret of his surprise. "I just met Mr. Miller. We're planning to work together to open a Sophie Laurent outlet in his country," Marc said. "Really?" she asked, still not convinced by his confession. Marc swallowed his saliva roughly. His thoughts became even more muddled when he saw her body under the golden glow of the lights. The girl had her arms around his waist. Her feet were on tiptoe just to gently kiss her lover's lips.

“You might surprise them. Who doesn’t love a dramatic curtsy from a six-foot-five beta with a gun strapped to his back?” “Exactly,” Marcus replied, sweeping into an exaggerated bow that nearly knocked over a side table. “Charm and grace, that’s what I bring.” “More like chaos and clanking,” Dalton murmured beside her, lips twitching with amusement. Elora rolled her eyes. “We should’ve left you back in Riverdale.” “You can’t even if you tried.” Dalton turned slightly toward Daniella, speaking under his breath, “I would have sworn that you are mated, if I had not witnessed Elora and Alpha Lucien’s mate bond and wedding. This banter feels suspiciously domestic.”

Then, slowly, her lips curled into something wicked. “Sarah,” she murmured, rolling the name over like she was already picturing it. Damien shifted, trying to ignore the unease curling in his gut. “She’s pregnant,” he said, watching Marcel closely. He wanted to see if there was a line, a point Marcel wouldn’t cross. Marcel didn’t even blink. He shrugged, leaning back into his chair, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Even better,” he said. “A man like Marco? You take what he loves, and you make him bleed for it.”

“I’m not interested in having anything to drink, Marcia. Let’s get to the point.” “Waiter!” Marcia yells, we’ll have two matcha. The waiter nods and Marcia turns back to me. “What exactly does Dimitrio see in you? What does anyone see in you?” Marcia’s finger plays with a small chunk of my hair. Twirling them. My brows crease and I can’t help but chuckle. I feel so sorry for her. She clearly looks annoyed now. “What’s so funny?” She asks. “All this while, I thought you were competitive, smart, literally everything anyone can wish for. But right now I’ve realized you’re just pathetic.”

As I’m coming, ha puns, down from my orgasm high, Darren’s kissing a trail up my body. He’s sweaty and smells so fucking good I want to take a bite. ‘Do it. Bite his mark.’ Duilio’s husky horny encouragement was more than I needed. My teeth sink into the D’Amore mark that stands out bold and proud on his skin. Darren’s throat growl of pain and pleasure fills my ears. “I love you.” Darren moaned as I licked the blood from his neck. “I love you too. Now show me how much you love me with that cock of yours.” I smirked, pulling his face to mine, kissing him deeply.

Said, the big palm has been over Marisa Darcyshoulders: "You say so, right?" Marisa Darcyis full of disgust to push people away, but who knows the body weak, actually fall backward softly. Seeing this, the man no longer need to cover up, fist-pumping towards her, the mouth also excitedly muttered to themselves: "They say Ms. Miller is a cheap beauty, today it is finally my turn to taste, hahahahaha......" "Son of a bitch, you...... you drugged in the wine?!" The curses are gradually floating, Marisa Darcyknew she could not escape a disaster, if there was a knife in hand, she must have no hesitation to pierce every part of the man's body, will tear him apart!

They knew who I was. Or rather, who I was about to become. One of them quickly reached for the door handle,,pulling it open for me. As I stepped In gracefully,I caught the scent of something sterile beneath the rich fragrance of fresh lilies.The suite was massive, marble floors, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the city beautiful skyline. But I barely noticed. My eyes sparkled as they landed on the two persons patiently waiting for me. Marco was very much relaxed on the couch,a full glass of whiskey dangling lazily from his fingers.His dark eyes immediately found mine,scanning me with an expression I couldn’t quite pinpoint.Across from him, standing near the windo

I said, pushing him off. "Delilah..." I didn't listen and stormed away from him. I looked around to see if I could find Lucia, but I didn't see her anywhere. Did she leave already? A waiter walked by with a tray full of champagne, so I snatched one off of the tray. I feel frustrated, so maybe a little bit of alcohol is just what I need. I finish the glass in one swig. "Hello, pretty lady, would you like to keep me company this evening? I am Marcello," An Italian man who looks about 45ish is looking at me with a big smile on his face.