Novel & Cerita Fifty Shades Of Grey Novel Online

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.

“You’re here to cook, not to play detective.” But deep down, that little voice one that always got me in trouble — whispered Yeah, but don’t you want to know? Why does Domenico wear shades in the house? Why does Alessandro act like everyone is a threat? Why does this mansion feel like a golden cage? And why, oh why, does my bank account now have five figures sitting in it after just one day? I sighed again, pushing up to my feet. Lunch was done. Counters were clean.

I could feel his eyes still on me, watching the way I held the book, the way I shifted my weight. The 7 second mark was my current record for how long I could hold his gaze without flinching or looking away. It was a stupid, private game I’d invented—a test of wills. If I looked away first, he won. If he looked away first, I won, which somehow translated in my twisted brain to: I have the upper hand in everything. “That’s Jane Austen,” Grey noted, without looking at the cover. “Not usually your style.” I lowered the book, meeting his dark eyes. “And what, precisely, is my style, Grey?”

when we accidentally bumped shoulders at the communal fridge but in my head, he’d done a lot more than that. I bit my lip, staring at the ceiling. My hand instantly drifted down my stomach, fingers tracing the edge of my open jeans. And I could already feel the heat building between my thighs, that slow, insistent throb that had started the moment I’d seen him this morning in the elevator. He’d been wearing gray sweatpants. Low on his hips. The kind that left nothing to the imagination. I’d caught the faint outline of his cock and had to look away before my face turned scarlet.

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The elevator doors whispered open with a soft chime that sounded far too innocent for the nightmare unfolding around me. Rafael De Luca did not release his hold on me as he guided me forward into the private penthouse suite that occupied the entire top floor of Palazzo Nero. His palm remained pressed firmly against the small of my back, the heat of it burning through the thin emerald silk like a brand. Every step I took made the fabric slide against my skin, the slit parting to reveal the smooth expanse of my thigh, the cool air kissing the dampness that had inexplicably gathered between my legs despite the terror clawing at my throat.

There was silence as everyone watched Mrs. Grace as she glanced through the document President Blossom had submitted to her. Lindsey's heart was beating ten times faster than usual and she just felt like collapsing. She stared at Mrs Grace for a while before shifting her gaze to the two subordinate judges seated close to Mrs. Grace side by side waiting for an order from their boss, before she shifted her gaze to President Blossom who had her gaze on Mrs. Grace as if trying to read her mind. Lindsey sighed closing her sweaty palm as her eyes landed on Reporter Sharon who had her eyes on her and a smirk plastered on her face. "I'm doomed," Lindsey muttered. thank goodness she was seating if no

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled Fifty Shades of Grey first (cliché, yes, but I needed an entry point), then The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice, Story of O, a slim volume called The New Topping Book just to balance it out, and two anthologies with titles like Bound Hearts and Surrender to Me. The stack felt heavy in my arms, like contraband. I carried them to the my corner and hid them under the table. I sat down, and opened the first book.