Gently Antonym

The city never slept , but I did probably to much. But it was the only place where I could tell myself what I was going through was just a dream . My therapist said the nightmares were trauma resurfacing , I called them what it was a curse something I’ve never been able to get out of my head , not since I was young , wolves with eyes like molten gold , the smell of the earth and pine , voices calling my name from the darkness . It something I’ve always tried to shake off but failed , I didn’t believe any of it… not until tonight . “ what’s happening to me “ i whispered “ your remembering ayla “ “ I’m the other half of you “ she said so gently , “ the part that’s been sleeping for to long , my name is nala we are the Moon Heir , the last silver wolf of our bloodline “ The light surged through me, and I screamed not from pain, but from release. Every part of me that had been silent for years was awake. And beneath it all, I felt him. Kael’s heartbeat, steady and fierce, calling to mine across the miles. The mate bond pulsed once — sharp, electric, undeniable. He’s coming for us, Nala murmured. He heard you. And even through the dizzying rush of magic, I smiled. “Then let him find me.”

At 4:00 a.m., my husband, Rocco, gently shook me awake. His voice was a low murmur, . "Alessia, my love, could you do something for me?" But his next words shattered the illusion. "Scarlett is hungry. Go make her some seafood soup." Scarlett was our maid, and she was also Rocco's pregnant goomar. "I just had fresh seafood delivered. Get to the kitchen and make her a bowl of soup. Just for Falcone's heir." I refused, my voice cold. His anger flared in an instant. "Don't be so unreasonable, Alessia." "Is it really so hard for you to make some soup?" I shook my head, silent. He stroked my cheek, a patronizing smile playing on his lips. "Fine, Alessia. So you've learned to defy me now." "Think carefully, Alessia. Do you really want to keep your place as a Falcone?" "And your position as the family's lawyer? Think about whether you still want these… then give me your answer." Seeing the arrogance in Rocco's eyes, the last ember of love I had for this man died. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "I want out of the Falcone family."

On the night of my 30th birthday, I waited until the early hours of the morning, but my husband, Theodore Hawk never showed up. Instead, I came across an Instagram post from his childhood sweetheart, Emily Gallagher. [What romantic is not the starry night, it is having you by my side.] In the picture, she was wearing a delicate, sky-blue camisole that revealed just enough to charm and seduce. A man stood close behind her, his hand firmly gripping her waist. The scene was set in the seaside villa that Theodore had gifted her, their figures intimately entwined under the soft glow of the night. Someone had commented beneath the post: [I can’t stand you two being this lovey-dovey all the time! Just get married already!] Emily had responded with a shy-face emoji. I had just liked the post when Theodore, who I had failed to reach all night, blew up my phone with calls. "Are you out of your mind, Camilla? Emi and I grew up together! If we wanted to be together, we would’ve done so long ago! Why are you being so petty?" Looking at how Theodore gently held her in his arms, comforting her, I realized something. Letting go of someone you’ve loved for seven years... can take only a moment.

His hot breath fanned my ear and I nearly died the moment the straps of my dress fell away. Revealing a part of myself that left me vulnerable to his hungry gaze that moved over me. I pride myself on decency, to always be appropriate but the way he clenched his jaw and ran his large hands on my thighs made me go. . . to hell with decency. Reaching out, the need to touch him no longer bearable, I traced the outline of his torso through the fabric of his shirt. But even that wasn't enough as my hands moved underneath the fabric to trace the muscles there. He shifted slightly away triggering a fear in me that I had done something wrong. However, the fear diminished when he removed the fabric- granting my eyes the chance to feast on seeing more of his skin. He moved forward peppering light kisses all over my neck and torso only to latch onto my nipple tugging gently on the hard nub. I cried out at the movement of his teeth and tongue as his hands kept me close hindering any chance to reduce the contact to damn near impossible. Reducing the contact was the last thing I wanted, especially considering how far we had come. . .

Ashley Brown find herself in love with his mafia stepbrother, Sirius Brown. They lived together as a step sibling for years, made the beautiful girl saw him as the hero, the man of her dream. The devil himself, Sirius Brown, is well known as a heartless, manipulative man ever. He kills every living being that goes in his way. Including to his baby girl, Ashley brown. "Baby... Why are you covering this up? Don't you believe me?" Sirius stroked the girl's hand, made Ashley trembled. She shake her head slowly. "It's not like that Bubba… It's dirty, I have to clean it up first." She answered. Sirius chuckled. He held Ashley's hand but the girl shook her head even faster. She didn't want Sirius to see and touch her wet p***y. "Baby, my innocent baby. Show me princess, there's nothing to worry about... Hmm? Come on..." Sirius kissed Ashley gently on the lips, trying to reassure her that it was fine, even normal and that's natural thing to happen… Warning! This novel describe detail sex and erotic scenes. It also has some bloody, torture scenes that may cause you uncomfortable. Please consider your age before reading. This is my original work.

"Huh? Innocent and pure male god?" Albrey Hamilton's cold thin lips brushed Oakley's cheeks gently, his hand gripping the person's pale and smooth chin. "Very funny, isn't it?" Albrey Hamilton's hand ruffled Oakley’s hair, tousling it. "Aren't you just a plaything?" Albrey Hamilton sneered coldly and domineeringly captured the lips of the person beneath him. Immediately, Albrey pinned down the person's waist and thrust into the person fiercely creating a loud papapa noise that resounded in the low-key luxurious room Oakley's eyes and face reddened which wasn't known if it was due to pleasure, fury or embarrassment. Oakley's eyes pooled with tears that slipped past his cheeks rapidly yet he only bit his lower lip, a stubborn and defying expression on his face. He refused to part his lips, speak or acknowledge the cruel words of the person hovering over him. "Naive." Albrey's thin lips curved in a cynical disparage. "How do you think your fans will react when they discover their pure idol sold his body to me to become famous?" Albrey sneered coldly, his eyes darkening with coldness at Oakley's silence. Oakley stiffened after hearing the ridiculing word that emitted from Albrey's lips.

Warning: Mature content! He let his hand squeeze her breast gently through the gown she wore, then he applied a little bit of force. He heard her make a whimpering sound into his mouth and he swallowed it up. He released her hands and pushed her to himself with his hand while caressing her breast. *** His unwilling slave… Fiery and innocent, Lady Roksolana was once the esteemed and privileged daughter of the sultanate king. Until she was captured by the enemy, the all powerful and devilishly charming Sultan, Sheikh Jamal Aamil. The ruthless king… Worshipped as a god by his people, sinfully hot Jamal takes ahold of Roksolana during an attack and back to his palace. Drawn to her exotic beauty, he tries to bends her to his seductive whims. Except that Roksolana refuses to suppress her bold spirit for any man, especially such an arrogant one like Jamal, who sees her as nothing but his possession, a jewel in his harem and a slave to slake his pleasure on. Bound together by desire… Soon, Roksolana finds herself succumbing to his sensual touches and in the process falls in love with him. But with another danger in the air, ememies scheming wicked plots and his favorite mistress raging with jealousy, will these two be able to find love in the midst of all the chaos? A thrilling tale of love, lust and desire.

On the night of the Benedetto family's Harvest Festival, my Mafia husband, Salvatore, told me to bring our son, Giuseppe, to the family gathering. He said his madre had finally accepted us into the Benedetto bloodline. I was trembling with excitement in our little cottage as I dressed Giuseppe in his finest little suit. He had carved a single wooden rose by hand, a project he'd saved for over five years. He said he would present it to his grandmother at the celebration, a plea for her to accept our place in the family. But the moment we stepped into the stone manor, I saw Carmela. Salvatore had her pinned against an oak barrel in a deep, searing kiss. In the moonlight, her hand was undoing his tie. In front of everyone, Salvatore smiled and gently pushed her away. He walked toward the family members gathered in a semicircle and raised a crystal glass. "Tonight, in addition to celebrating the harvest, I have an important announcement." "I would like to introduce you all to the woman I have married in the eyes of God and the Church." "Miss Carmela Torrino." Before I could even process his words, Giuseppe tore his hand from mine and rushed forward. "Papa, what are you saying?" "Isn't my mother your wife?"

DARK ROMANCE! "I-I love him," she stammered, shivering under his intense gaze. But his whisper sent shivers down her spine. "But I love you," he said, his smirk hinting at a dark intention that left her numb. "Leave me! I'm not yours!" she protested, her brown eyes wide with fear, shock, and sadness. Yet, her sparkling tears only drew him in. He leaned in closer, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch a mix of tenderness and menace. "How can I, kitten, when you're already mine? Trapped with me, sinfully," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Her throat constricted in fear as she realized escape was impossible. But his next words crushed her world. "Punishment time, kitten," he growled, his voice dripping with lust and obsession. His dark eyes seemed to devour her, leaving her knees weak. A lone tear escaped her eye as she realized she was trapped. He would cage her, sinfully. She was a bright doll, but his darkness shattered her hopes. She was a vast ocean, and he was a pirate who'd found his treasure in her - a treasure he'd claim by any means. @2024darkoceanfics

I watch as he gently places the gun on the table. Seconds tick by a heavy silence filling the room. He takes a stand and makes his way to me. He takes a stance behind my chair and places his firm arms on my armchair, caging me. I bask in his scent and warmth. "You choose now Lana, here and now." He whispers into my ear. His traces my knuckles before grabbing my notebook out of my hands, and tossing it on the table. "I wasn't done with that." I say. He laughs, I feel his chest rumble as he laughs. I turn to face him, feeling my breaths shorten with each passing second. "Eyes on the prize, Lana." He turns my head back towards the table. "You choose the notebook you can go back to living your life in fear and delusion, then one day end up dead in a dumpster or," He brushes a strand of hair from my face, " You could pick up the gun and hunt your past which shall it be Lana?" I feel beads of sweat on my back and my anxiety prickling through my skin. I have to choose, here and now. I extend my hand and pick my choice.