Felix Hand Size

I'm a wedding dress designer, and one day before the finals of the Bridal Queen Tournament, explicit photos of me are posted all over the internet. Countless people accuse me of defiling the concept of love. They say I don't deserve to make wedding dresses, and in the end, I'm disqualified from the tournament. The photos can only come from one person—my boyfriend, Felix Evans. On the verge of a breakdown, I seek him out for answers. But right before I walk through the door, I hear him having a conversation with his twin, Leon Evans. "As expected, the netizens sank their teeth into Dahlia the moment the photos were posted online. I'm guessing that she's going to be blacklisted by the entire fashion industry too. There's no way she can compete against Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen anymore." "Does this mean I can't pretend to be you and sleep with her anymore? Truth be told, she's pretty good in bed. She's pure, but she's also seductive." "You should take advantage of the situation and sleep with her as much as you want then. Once Sylvia wins the title of Bridal Queen, I'm going to cut ties with Dahlia completely and officially pursue Sylvia." Listening to their casual conversation, I feel like a sharp blade is being ruthlessly stabbed into my heart. I don't know how I got home. After sitting in a daze the entire night, I call a studio overseas and tell them, "I'll be joining you in three days."

Sophia Smith and Alexander Carter have been friends since high school, but she sees him as more than just a friend. When her father suddenly proposes marriage, she accepts without consideration and Alex was forced to abide by his grandfather's wish, so he married her, but her happiness fades as Alex's indifference takes hold. Determined to win his love, Sophia devotes herself to impressing him, but her efforts were all futile. A year into marriage, Alex files for divorce, accompanied by scandalous pictures that led Sophia to bear the burden of false accusations. Unable to face the distrust of people around her, Sophia disappears with her unborn child. Six years pass, and fate reunites them when Alex becomes Sophia's patient. Guilt clouds Alex's eyes, and his voice trembled with longing as he muttered "Sophia, I've spent years realizing my mistakes. I've regretted every moment since we parted" She spares him a glance "Regret won't mend what you shattered, Mr. Carter. The past is a chapter closed, I've moved on and so should you." He reached out for her hand but she moves away "And what about the twins?" he asks with a voice filled with remorse. Sophia responds curtly "The twins are mine. Alone." On one hand stands her ex-husband, prepared to endure any hardship to reclaim her, and on the other hand stands a friend who is willing to go to great lengths to have her as his own.

Rejected and humiliated, Lilith Brookes was dealt a lousy Hand by faith, eventually leading to her imminent death. But once again, Fate has dealt another card. A mysterious Alpha saved Lilith with glowing crimson and Amber eyes. With this new chance that Fate had dealt, will Lilith find true happiness

His dick continued pounding into her. He had gone harder, stretching her even more. She couldn't help but moan. This sound had him losing his mind. He went even faster, his finger stuck in her hair. "Fuck!" He cursed as his breathing turned rapid. His hand went down to spread her legs apart as she tried closing them, not being to take all he was giving her. "Don't close them!" He said between grunts. His hand went to play with her clit. It had turned swollen. With each thrust, his hand went in a circle on her. His rough fingers were soft on her, going soft but at the same time, hard. He knew his techniques. Her legs began shaking more as she was on edge. She was ready to cum. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began to drool slightly. His thrust remained in pace soon her walls began to tighten. She was near. " Oh yes!" She screamed as she came hard on his dick. She tried catching her breath, short of air from their sex. Quickly, he rolled over and she ended up on top. His dick was still inside her, hard and twisting. That was when it hit her, he hadn't had his release but she still asked. "What are you doing?" "We aren't done yet. You are going to ride me, hard and fast."

On the day of the mating ceremony, a crazed witch bursts in and points straight at me, shrieking, "Six years later, your Alpha will betray you!" Troy Hudson, my soon-to-be mate, turns livid. He swats the purple-glowing crystal ball from her hand, shattering it on the floor. "Nonsense! Estelle is my fated mate! I'll only ever love her in this lifetime!" After that, he becomes even more devoted to me. At the Moon Goddess' altar, he drapes the Luna shawl over my shoulders. He marks me with his scent so the entire pack knows I belong to him. Every full moon, he deepens the mark on my neck, whispering that I am his forever. I believe his love is unbreakable until our sixth anniversary. A box waits at our front door. Inside lies a pair of lace panties and a photograph. In the photo, Troy is pressed over his foster sister, Rue Youngblood, the wolf tattoo on his body glowing faintly. His hand grips her waist, his eyes burning with the same heat I've dreamed of a million times. And Rue? She's wearing that same pair of panties. On the back of the photo, written in ink as red as blood, is a line of pure provocation. "The Alpha's heart may belong to you, but his body belongs to me." Agony ripped through my chest, yet not a single tear fell. Instead, I rest my hand on my belly and quietly send word to the Witch Association. "I accept your invitation. Please help me vanish."

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

How can you fight for your love when it is not legal? How can you hold his hand in public and hug him to show how much you love him, when your relationship is secret? When your love ones is in a relationship with someone who is so close to you?

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

“No! Please, Santiago--” I whimpered, as his hand seized my wrist with an iron grip, yanking me forward, dragging me effortlessly toward the chair he had pulled into the center of the room the night before. The symbol of my humiliation. He stopped right in front of the chair, spinning me around, facing him. "You want me to be your monster, mi ángel?" His hand grabbed my throat, tilting my chin up until my eyes locked with his dark gaze. I flinched from the sudden movement. "Cause I’ll be your favorite monster — just say the word, cariño." Santiago’s face hovered only inches from mine. His lips so close, I could taste the sweetness of his breath — once making butterflies take flight in my stomach, now curdling my insides into a cold, suffocating fear. Slowly, his free hand rose toward my face. I held my breath. His touch was deceptively soft and gentle, caressing my cheek. His thumb lingered against my lips, tracing them slowly, his eyes fixed there as he spoke — his voice soft, yet heavy with menace. "Divorce is not an option, mi amor. We took a vow five years ago. Remember?" He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, catching every flicker of fear before he delivered his last words like a verdict: "Till death do us part."

[TRIGGER WARNING: Reader's Discretion Is Advised. This book contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, dark romantic elements, and strong language. It is intended for adult audiences(18+). Proceed with caution.] He placed a hand on my leg, and my breath caught. His hand slowly began stroking my thigh, sending a strange wave of sensation through my body. My fingers tightened against my dress as my pulse quickened. His hand moved slowly higher, sliding deeper into my thigh. My body stiffened as his fingers brushed against my panties. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. Is Master doing what I think he’s going to do? I thought, panic slowly rising inside me. He leaned slightly closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Try not to moan,” he whispered, my breath hitched. I tried my best to stay still, forcing myself to keep my expression calm as the men around the table continued their conversation. But under the table, his fingers kept teasing the fabric of my panties. My breathing grew uneven, then his fingers suddenly slipped inside. A small cough escaped my lips as my body jerked slightly from the sudden sensation. Several heads turned toward me. “Are you okay, Mrs. Enzo?” one of them asked with concern. My face burned with embarrassment. “Is something wrong? Did you choke on the food?” another man asked. “I think she choked on the food,” Enzo said calmly as he looked at me, his eyes held a warning.