Novel & Cerita Dona Perfecta

Felicia told him, lowering her gaze as she did not want him to see how happy she was. “What news?” Hamilton asked immediately, still not looking at her. “It’s Monalisa,” Felicia said calmly, her gaze on Hamiliton as she spoke. “What is it about Monalisa?” He asked immediately he heard her mention Monalisa’s name, turning his gaze to Felicia again and peering hard at her too as he wondered what this was about.

Why should I like a sweet guy who doesn't hate me? I sighed under my breath. Thank God he didn't hear me or read my thoughts because I could never show my face again. "Hmm, what was I doing after I undressed? Wildfrida," He said my name with a severe whispering tone. But I heard something else, like desire and want, in his voice, but I knew I was wrong. Why would he want someone like me to see him naked? He already told me he hated me since I moved here in the first year of my freshmen year.

He was trying to reprogram his brain. “Okay, settle down. I will now announce the results.” The teacher was cut off by a deep and smooth voice from the back of the room. It made Josh’s eyes snap open. “I predict it’s Josh.” Nathan Donsol sat in his seat with a posture that was surprisingly elegant. His uniform was perfectly pressed and fit his frame in a way that looked effortlessly sexy. He had a dark and textured wolf-cut hairstyle that framed his sharp Korean features perfectly. His monolid eyes were intense, and his jawline looked like it was carved from marble.

Sofia, I'm eagerly awaiting your updates from Spain! Sofia stood tall and confident, her sun-kissed skin radiating a vibrant glow that caught the eye of everyone in the room. Her perfectly applied makeup accentuated her striking features—high cheekbones, full lips, and bright eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm. She wore a pair of chic Marc Jacobs jeans, priced at an impressive two hundred dollars, that clung to her curves with a perfect balance of comfort and style. The rest of her outfit—a crisp white blouse tucked elegantly into her jeans—was completed with sleek, pointed-toe heels that added a touch of sophistication to her overall look.

The score was neck and neck, they just needed 2 more points to beat the other team and if someone could score the perfect touchdown, it would win the game indefinitely. We all held our breath as the ball was tossed to Avery and he got into position to huck it over the defence line to Aiden who rushed to the other side of the field with blinding speed. It was a perfect pass made by Avery that he caught with ease and went to make a break for it instantly. “Yes, go, Aiden!” I screamed across the field.

She wasn't sorry she had sucked that pussy, though--not a bit. Donna had lovely dark hair, hair that shimmered in the sunlight. Her eyes, also dark, had a slight slant to them. She had full, sensual lips, and her neck was long. Her skin was unblemished, creamy the way Penny's was. Donna threw her shoulders back and looked critically at her breasts. Nothing wrong with those, she thought. There was nothing wrong with any part of her body. She could stand next to Penny any day, although there was about fifteen years' difference in their ages.

Evan though Oden loved my face and Xavier and a Penelope kept telling me that I was perfect just the way that I am, I knew that my face was different. Now this strange man was looking at it and it made me want to bury myself in a hole and never come out of it. I hated the attention from the handsome evil man. I could feel his warm breath hit my face and I could smell the whiskey on his breath, "the name's Elon, but please, call me Bishop," his accent was thick and different. One that I've only heard through a television screen. A British accent. My eyes stuck onto his blue ones as I held my breath, waiting for him to hurt me, "what do you want from me?" I asked him with a shaky tone.

The camera framed her in some kind of industrial cathedral, stone walls, iron beams, candles flickering like it was a grotesque chapel, and behind her stood Bianchi. His white suit was immaculate, his silver hair combed back, but his skin sagged, sallow, as though time itself was devouring him alive. Machines beeped faintly at his side, wires running from his chest to a black, humming unit on wheels. His smile was the smile of a man with nothing left to lose. “Talana Fabrizio,” his voice drawled, amplified through the speakers of their SUV as if mocking distance itself. “The world’s new saint. The Dona. You wear the fire well, girl, but saints don’t last long in a world of devils.”

The redhead, Sophia, pressed herself against the elevator wall, her eyes wide with excitement. She loved watching men fight over a woman. "Your world?" Julian chuckled softly. "Mr. Costello, I'm afraid you're mistaken." His hand found my back, a simple touch that sent a shiver through me. "The lady has already made her choice." A flash of raw murder crossed Damien's eyes. "A choice? She has no idea what she's choosing." "Maybe you should ask her," Julian said, not moving an inch. He was still a wall in front of me.

[note to QI: above line says perfume too, so I kept this neutral/vague by changing to liquid] She then glared at me and asked, "Did you tamper with the perfume, Helena?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking completely innocent. "What on earth are you talking about? Why don't I understand what you're getting at, Queenie? Is it possible that your perfume has simply gone bad?" Queenie asked through gritted teeth, "Didn't you realize that the person who uses this perfume can't actually smell it? How did the perfume I gave you end up on my vanity, Helena?"