Dylan X Dolly 소설 & 이야기

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

The sound of the liquor bottle breaking echoed against the walls of that room, making her flinched. She gazed into those intoxicated piercing green eyes hovering over her. "Leave from my room right now, Damien," her sapphire orbs filled with tears of terror, whereas her grip tightened on the towel covering her wet bare body but the person before her didn't follow her words. A shiver ran down her spine when he placed his both palms on the glass door behind her, caging her completely. "We will talk tomorrow when you will be sober up but please leave now," she attempted to push him away but her body froze when he pinned both of her wrists above her head, resulting in the towel slipping from her body. Her naked body trembled, both in fear and cold but the blazing rage in those bloodshed green eyes flamed up her being. She tried to wiggle out from his hold until…. "Do you still love him, Zia?" His question stabbed inside her heart like a dagger. Her tears of fear turned into anger. After she submitted every single inch of her to him last night, he was still asking her that question. "What if I said, yes…I still love Dylan then?" She challenged him but immediately hissed in pain when he dug his fingers in her tender skin. "Then I will kill him right in front of you," his cavernous voice husked against her lips but his words glossed her eyes more. How can he be so cruel that he didn't hesitate before thinking about killing his own brother? Her heart clenched when he pressed his lips against her and whispered those words in her mouth. "Because I will be the only person to ruin you in my love, Zia Damien Karlson,"

He dipped his head back between my thighs and placed his hand under my a*s, pulling my waist towards him. He began licking around the edges of my p**sy, closing in slowly to the center. He traced me with the very tip of his tongue until he could taste my nectar. He licked the entrance of the v*****l hole, sucking my juice like it was liquid sin, like he wanted to drown himself in it. Then he dragged his tongue back to my c**t stroking it. I didn’t move, I kept still, as if I did he might stop and I was scared of that. My chest just heaved, letting out the faintest of breaths. Another stroke of his tongue on my sweet spot, and a very quiet m**n bubbled out of my throat. He moved his tongue again, flicking with more pressure and I jolted like I had been electrocuted. I pushed my hips forward and completely enveloped his head between my thighs, my knees bending until my legs were locked behind his head, burying his head deeper into my wet p***y. My body tightened, not like I was about to c*m, but like he was easing all the pressure he had built up. Are you looking for the best e****ca stories? The perfect e**tica content that would keep you on edge wanting more? Search no more, you’ve found the perfect one. Turn the pages and read, if you dare! This is a compilation of extremely erotica content ranging from forbidden s*x between step family members, student and teacher, between best friends, gays and lesbians and so much more! Note: Do not read if you’re below 18 Extremely erotica content!

“I don’t like you,” I tell him. Fredrick smiles like I just said something funny. “That’s not true.” “Yes, it is,” I deny. “No,” he says softly, stepping closer, “you just don’t want to understand me and admit it.” I laugh. “I understand you perfectly. You’re annoying. You’re always right. And you make everyone look bad.” He looks right into my eyes. “And yet… you keep looking at me.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I thought my biggest enemy was Fredrick Larsen. My perfect, annoying coworker who always wins every fight. We fight in every meeting. We argue over every project. I just can’t stand him. But at night, I become “A”. A secret writer who writes stories under a secret name. And I talk to a stranger who is one of my followers online called “K”. His words feel like magic. He sees deep into my heart, understands my fears, and makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. We share secrets, dreams, and even our hidden desires. Slowly, I start falling for this stranger I’ve never met. But I received the greatest shock of my life one night at the company party where I accidentally saw Fredrick reading something on his phone with keen interest. I moved closer and saw my story open on his screen with my apple profile picture right there. My stomach drops. Now I know the truth. “K” is Fredrick. The man I fight every single day… is the same man who made my heart race every night. Fredrick raises his head and steps closer, his eyes burning into mine. He smiles like he already knows everything. He tilts his head, calm as ever, but his voice is softer now. “Should I call you A… or Dylan?”