Got Me Wrapped Around Your Finger Novels & Stories

Fading in, fading out On the edge of paradise Every inch of your skin is a Holy Grail I've gotta find Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire Yeah, I'll let you set the pace 'Cause I'm not thinking straight My head spinning around, I can't see clear no more What are you waiting for? Love me like you do, love me like you do Love me like you do, love me like you do Touch me like you do, touch me like you do What are you waiting for? Love me like you do, love me like you do (like you do)

, he shivered. " And I can do whatever I want with you?" " Yes", his eyes widen before speaking again. " No!", He yelled. " I mean no, please don't hurt me." His words made me step back, I released his hands. " What made you think I would hurt you?" He didn't reply, he just gawked at me slowly twisting his wrist. I didn't know what came over me or what made me do that to him. I took some steps back, crossing my arms.

Kat said, can't even finish her sentences as she is busy laughing at the current situation. That idiot is still waving my panty proudly like it's a national flag. A few girls who passed him were giggling. He just stood there, still waving the panty with his one finger. "I'm coming!!!" I yell back, turning around from the windows, walking to the door while silently cursing that idiot in my head. *************** Be calm, Hazel. Be calm. You got this. My hands are sweaty, and I could feel that my legs tremble a little.

Zena's POV Emotions churned within me as I stood before the captured right hand of El Fuego. The sight of Mr. Lopez stirred a whirlwind of conflicting feelings, a potent concoction of relief, anticipation, and a lingering sense of apprehension. It was a victory, undeniably, to have him in our custody, yet beneath the surface lay the sobering recognition that our journey was far from over. Happiness teased at the edges of my consciousness, an unattainable shade, overshadowed by the harsh reality that success in our line of work was often fleeting, a mere respite in the ceaseless battle against crime and corruption.

my tears fell when I felt one finger was digging inside me, wanting to get inside, invading me. "Now, it's my turn."

My mouth tasted like dust. I cut the twine with a blade, careful because even carelessness now felt like a sin. I peeled back the paper, folded it like a cheap curtain, expecting—what? Money? A token? A threat in words? The world had been full of messages. This one… this one was different. Inside, wrapped in a small plastic bag, was a single finger. Shit.

He pulled me in and I gasped, His hand curled around me and stroked my bud. “Ahhhhhn!” My fingers dug into his skin. I could feel the glee in his gaze. “I’m going to make you sing for me, with my fingers…”

It was barely within arms reach, allowing me to use my fingertips and pull it over to us. My eyes watched Waylon stick his finger in the cake and slowly move over towards me. Acting on impulse, my mouth opened allowing him to stick his chocolatey finger in. As soon as my lips wrapped around his fingers, the fingers inside me started violently moving back and forth. My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I moaned. The combination of both his fingers were sending me into over drive.

"Why does it have to be like this? We worked side by side for seven years. I used to think… if we weren't on opposite sides, what things might've looked like." I let out a short laugh. "Simple. You would've drained everything you could from me, used me up, and kicked me out the second you were done." A flicker of awkwardness crossed his face. I smiled without warmth. "Anyway, I've received the money. Unless there's something else, don't come looking for me again." He grabbed my arm, suddenly anxious. "Didn't you say you'd help me?" "You want me to help you? After I was the one who exposed you? Do you think I'm an idiot? Paul, I'd rather see you locked up for life."

"You're a cripple now, so let's see how you're going to fight me now." Suddenly, his hand tilted, and the entire glass of scalding hot milk poured over my arm. A sharp, burning pain exploded through my nerves as I grunted in pain, and my crutch slipped from my grip. I lost balance and crashed heavily to the floor. A searing agony ripped through my leg, and cold sweat from pain soaked my back. But what broke me more was the music box that tumbled from my arms and clattered onto the floor with a crisp crack.