Novel & Cerita Five More Minutes Lyrics

Caught finger-fucking her pussy and moaning her father-in-law’s name, Bella is instantly claimed by Jax Voss — the huge-cocked, dominant patriarch who fucks her senseless. While her husband cums in minutes, Jax destroys her cunt for hours. Soon she becomes his personal cumslut, addicted to the rough, filthy breeding her own husband could never give her.

Everyone in the pack knew I was in love with the Alpha, Luther Pauley. I had done whatever it took to win him over, even sneaking into his bed more than once. When I turned 18, the pack's seer predicted that Luther was my destined mate. But I refused the marking ceremony and chose to leave the pack instead. Luther looked stunned as he blocked my way out. "If you walk away now, don't ever come back." No one in the pack believed I would really go. They were even making bets about how soon I'd crawl back. "I'm calling three days!" "You're giving her too much credit. I'll wager a bottle of healing tonic that she'll be running back here in three minutes!" I ignored them and went straight to Sawyer Dunn, the Alpha of Graymoon Pack. This time, I swore I would never look back again.

With the rage he carried with him, Anthony would avenge the kingdom he once loved. He will do it for his King and those people he knew just minutes ago. His bravery sends him through time and space, feeling everything at once. Anthony cannot get the image of that forbidden love out of his dreams while he slept, on the way to "speak" to the King of Blood.

I was pregnant. On my way to deliver documents to Tristan Goldberg, a flash flood struck. Desperate, I dialed his number, praying he’d answer. After a few rings, the call connected. But instead of Tristan, a woman’s voice answered. "Tristan, whose number is this? Do you want to answer it?" There was a brief pause, and then Tristan’s voice, cold and indifferent, cut through. "It’s just my maid. Ignore it. Hang up." And just like that, the call disconnected. Staring at the torrent rising around me, my pulse quickened. I texted him, begging for him to send a rescue team. Minutes passed as the waters climbed to my waist, churning and relentless. Then, a message from Tristan finally appeared. Tristan: [What kind of ridiculous story are you making up now?] Tristan: [Emily, do you think you're eighteen, playing these childish games? I want that document in my hands within thirty minutes, or we're getting divorced.] A surge of terror shot through me as I looked up, catching sight of a heavy branch snapping loose and crashing down. In an instant, everything went dark.

"Within two minutes, if my men don't hear anything back from me, they'll be pulling out your parents' life support." "Y-You can't do that!" I shouted at him. "You can try me, little kitten." He smirked at me. "It's either you sign it or your parents will die." *** Schuyler Savannah was in desperate need of money, she would do everything just to earn it. She doesn't care how she'll have it as long as she can use it to pay for her parent's finances, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever see selling herself in marriage just to have what she needed. For her, it was the lowest of the low and she'd never stoop that far. Not until she was forced into a marriage she wouldn't be able to escape after witnessing that night. Ezekiel Riego is beyond her reach, so for him to come to her must've meant something, but would Schuyler even be ready to know everything? Or would she decide to leave as more lies surround her?

“Sign the papers, Anindira. You were never more than a placeholder for your sister.” For three years, Anindira Prawiro was the invisible wife of Arjuna Dirgantara the cold, ruthless "Iron King" of Jakarta. She cooked his meals, managed his home, and loved him with a devotion that went unnoticed. But on their third anniversary, her world shattered. Arjuna’s first love returned, and with a single stroke of a pen, he discarded Dira like a piece of broken glass. His final words to her were the cruelest: "If you’re pregnant, get rid of it. I don't want a mistake tying me to you." Heartbroken and alone, Dira vanished into a stormy night, leaving behind a signed divorce and a fake death report. Five years later, a ghost returns to Jakarta. She isn't the submissive girl he once knew. She is the world-renowned architect, the "Queen of Design," and she’s more powerful than the family that sold her. But she isn't alone. By her side are two genius twins: Bumi, who has Arjuna’s cold, grey eyes and a brilliant mind for war, and Langit, who carries her warmth and a secret of his own. When Arjuna realizes the "mistake" he ordered to be erased is actually the twin heirs to his empire, the predator becomes the prey. He buys her building, stalks her boardrooms, and begs for a second chance. But Dira has a new set of rules: 1. Five months of living together. 2. Separate rooms. 3. No touching. 4. No "Husband and Wife" duties. Arjuna once told her she was a shadow. Now, he’ll spend every second of the next five months trying to prove he’s worthy of the light she brings. Can a frozen heart melt before the five months are up?

Elysian Yoki Aracosa woke up in an unfamiliar room. Minutes after, she realized that she was kidnapped and tried finding some paths or something to use to escape. In there, Ismaiah Zyler Cojuanco, her kidnapper showed up without even trying to hide his identity. It caused her confusion. Little did she know, he was sold to a mafia billionaire by his father for his dept and was obligated to marry Ismaiah.

Branded barren and cast aside by her mate, Celeste vanishes into the night carrying a secret—triplets destined to change the world. Five years later, she returns stronger, more powerful, and no longer the broken Luna he rejected. As rival packs plot, jealous enemies rise, and her triplets awaken their legacy, Celeste must choose between revenge and destiny, while the Alpha who scorned her will beg for redemption.

First day back in the office. I was face down at my desk during lunch when the desk next to mine started rattling under a series of hard knocks. I looked up. It was the firm's new architect, Flora Reeves. "Lunch time ended five minutes ago. You're still asleep at your desk? Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're fired!" I told her I had just come back from a client meeting. I had been pulling all-nighters on the project for a week. She looked at me like I was something on her shoe. "All you do is take clients out, drink with them, and scribble a few sketches. "You don't even punch in. You're barely in the office. What gives you the right to nap at your desk during work hours?" I almost laughed in her face! I was the firm's chief architect. The bulk of the projects on Walsh & Co.'s books had my name on them. The firm's success was, frankly, carried by me. She saw me out of the office most days. She did not see me in another city, on another job site, talking down another client. And in our industry, most of those clients had hired Walsh & Co. because of my name and reputation. I kept my composure. "You're not in HR. On what authority are you firing me?" She said, "On the authority that my husband is the president of this company." I went still. When did my boyfriend get married?

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.