Fifty Shades Of Grey Cover Novels & Stories

Thinking about that beautiful moment ,he kept smiling foolishly and was blushing furiously. The last period got over and it was time to go home but Cole kept sitting with his red and smiling face. Seeing his extremely red face Rose became worried because she thought that it was because of playing under the sun, so she lifted her hand and touched his forehead.However, suddenly Cole froze in his position and forgot to breathe which made him cough continuously. Seeing him like this Rose became even more worried and started patting his back which made him even more embarrassed and he started coughing more furiously. The students who were leaving with their bags were all speechless seeing coughin

Amora asked Grey. "Just coffee, if it's not too much trouble." "Not at all. Wait a moment. I'll ask my assistant to prepare it for you. I'll change my clothes first." Grey nodded. While waiting, Grey observed Amora's house. The living room was small but comfortable. Various replica paintings adorned the walls, including a prominent replica of Vincent Van Gogh's "The Starry Night," contrasting with the pale green color of the walls. After a while, Hilda came with a towel and a T-shirt for Grey, surprising him.

Her fingers trembled as they brushed the choker again. I fastened it around her neck with slow, deliberate movements. It fit perfectly — elegant, discreet, and deadly. The thin band of leather sat snug against her throat, the silver engraving **Grey’s Velvet** catching the low light. One wrong move, one attempt to run too far from the designated safe zone, and it would deliver a controlled but painful electric shock — enough to remind her who she belonged to without causing permanent harm.

I murmur, my eyes fluttering shit as I continue to thrust my fingers faster into my pussy. He rubs his head on my folds just before he guides it to my opening. I can feel it…..my toes curling…his cock heavens I snap out of my thoughts as I hear the thud close by. Fuck. Someone's here. Fuck. I lift my eyes to the bookshelves and there he is at the far end of the shelf. My eyes grow wide with my heart stopping for a moment. Those green eyes are unmistakable. Not even his Tuesday sky blue shirt and loosened black tie.

He was the worst— out of them. ~•~•~•~•~ Saumya Tripathi | Different shades of him. Copyrights © 2024 by Saumya Tripathi. All rights reserved. The author neither promotes nor supports the actions mentioned in this story. It is purely fictional and should be taken as such. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without my prior written permission. Note that this is an ongoing story, and therefore subject to change. All copies published are the party of Saumya Tripathi.

“Hello.” “....” Silence. There’s no answer from across the phone. “Yeobseyo.” “....” Suddenly the caller hung up. Tiara just fell silent while staring at the phone screen. Weird. “Is it trying to scare me?” Tiara put the phone back down. Her hands are moving to clean up the old book. The book with the cover of ‘The Power of Darkness’ has a unique shape. The carving of roses with minimalist style on the cover looks real. Tiara’s never seen a book cover like this before. She tried to open the book, but it couldn’t open.

"The cover is exactly right. The cream color. The specific typography Patricia chose for the title." "What does it look like?" I said. "Like the inside view of something that cost a great deal and produced something real," she said. "The cover is the green dress. Not literally. The color is the color of the green dress. The specific emerald that you wore to Marlowe's and to the gala and that you gave to the Brooklyn shelter." She paused. "The woman who collects it from that shelter is going to walk into her custody hearing in a dress that is the same color as the cover of a book about what the other side looks like."

“Invite him into your life. Drink her dry.” Just as Gage opened his eyes, his eyes were no longer the blue color they were, they were black. He lost what he was, and he bit down on her neck. She screamed out in pain, she tried clawing at him but grew instantly weak as the life drained from her. She died slowly and when he finished her body turned to ash.

"Watch where the fuck you're walking." I looked up and the apology died on my lips. He was beautiful in the way expensive things were beautiful. Sharp, cold, untouchable. Tall and muscular, with dark hair styled with casual perfection, designer clothes that probably cost more than my tuition, and a face that belonged on magazine covers. I caught sight of his tattoo that peeked from under his rolled sleeve. But his eyes. God, his eyes were the coldest grey I'd ever seen, looking at me like I was something unpleasant he'd stepped in.