Devotion Mga Nobela at Kwento

The priest continues. The entire church is quiet and everyone is listening keenly to the priest speak. My palms are getting sweaty and I look up at Mitch. He looks comfortable, and dare I say, even confident. “This outward celebration we shall see and hear is an expression of the inner love and devotion they have in their hearts,” The Priest’s voice booms loudly in the church. Love? Devotion? I think I am going to puke. It seems like everyone else is enjoying the priest’s speech, they are all smiling and adoringly staring at us.

If only they weren't that important to her. He took a few slow, calculated steps forward, each one heavy with possessive hunger and unsaid promises. He crouched beside the bed like a predator watching its prey, but in his eyes, there was something far more intense than lust or danger, there was worship, a sickening kind of devotion, he hadn't been able to change his mind about her the moment he realized how much he loved her.

At the party celebrating the multimillion-dollar deal I've landed, my husband, Nick Ferguson, is about to announce my promotion and raise, but Ruby Holm, his secretary, deliberately interrupts him by feeding him her drink. My germaphobic husband doesn't even flinch. Without thinking, he puts the straw she has just used into his mouth. The employees immediately start teasing them, asking when they're getting married. Instead of denying it, Nick promotes Ruby to department manager. A coworker nudges my elbow. "Chloe, you've been with Mr. Ferguson for ten years. You're really not going to say anything?" I let out a cold laugh and toss my equity transfer agreement to Ruby. "Mr. Ferguson, d

Her voice faltered as she blinked. "My fault!" He whispered, wiping her tears. "it okay, stop crying" he dropped, his voice soft and calm as she gasped in disbelief... ★ QUARTERS* Tatiana raced into her room locking the door behind her, she was still trying to process what earlier happened but she can't believe it. He stylishly apologized to her! What the F*ck. Does a devil apologize? She can't believe this! Tatiana inhaled and exhaled slowly.

My wrists were sore and still, I had smiled every time he said, "good work or can you quickly run this for me before I nap?" Sheila stood. “Look. We’re not jealous, okay? You’re smart, you’re passionate, but don’t mistake crumbs for a full-course meal.” I blinked. “Crumbs?” She nodded. “Affirmation doesn’t mean affection and just because someone uses nice words doesn’t mean they mean well.” I felt something break inside. But I couldn’t let them see that; I couldn’t admit I’d been played. “I’ll let Dr. Weller know what you’ve been saying,” I muttered, grabbing my folders.

"I could spend a hundred lifetimes worshipping you, and it still wouldn't be enough." He entered me again, slow and deep, filling me completely. The second round was an exercise in pure devotion. It wasn't about claiming; it was about connecting. Every slow, measured thrust was a vow. Every kiss was a promise. We moved together in the quiet darkness of the villa, the only sounds our matched breathing and the soft, needy murmurs exchanged between us.

~Ren~ Dumbfounded, utterly astonished, that’s how I’m feeling at the moment. It’s not that he’s wrong, he’s totally right, yet I don’t want to show him any fucking clue. Am I that easy to read? He looks done perusing my thoughts, Devin broke the eerie silence hovering over us. “I know you…” he slurred. “Too well, agápi mou… coz I love you so much even if you push me away… you’re still the one my heart is longing for… you must love me still…” he shook his head. “You do, you have to…”

He indeed was giving me mixed feelings. "Do you Arielle, take Niccolò to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live " the officiant said, causing me to swallow the lump in my throat to answer him . Can we both love and comfort each other, I honestly don't think so, these vows are just a show for the guest.

She bit her lip, smiling devilishly as she got a naughty plan in mind. She put the book on the sofa and moved closer to him. “What book are you reading?” she asked, their faces very close. She held back her laughter as she looked at the book in his hand. He was reading a meditation book on how to calm the mind in 5 minutes. He tried to smile at her and avoided her eyes with his reddened cheeks. She then rested her head on his chest with her arms wrapped around his waist. She smiled devilishly when she heard his heart thudding.

And when they arched and spilled again in front of him, so did he, silent, teeth gritted, knees clenching, a mess of euphoria without ever being touched. There, Zed whispered to himself. That's devotion. Not commanded. But freely given. And this time, he didn't need to chase another high. He just... sank. And watched them keep going. As if worshipping the altar he had become. The room smelled of salt and fire, of tension finally undone and then twisted right back into a loop. Zed never left the couch.