Hand Holding Sword

I loved Spencer. Even though I knew he only saw Fiona when he looked at me. I clung to the wedding dress he picked out himself, holding onto the dream of a future that felt so close. But on our wedding day, she came back. In front of everyone, he has my dress ripped apart—for her. Now, he knelt before my grave, begging for forgiveness. But all I could think was, even here, he was ruining my peace.

She doesn't want to be in this marriage. She doesn't want to be anyone's replacement. She loves him with all of her, but in return, he calls her a cheap woman with no self-esteem. She is hurt. Still, she holds on to this love. This love is like a barbed wire. The more she holds on to it, the more it bleeds her. Eventually, she chooses to let go. But she doesn't know, he is on the other end, holding on tightly to this string of love. Can they fix this? Can they rewrite this love all over?

Synopsis: “You may pretend like you don't know me but I know a body I've touched when I see one,” he caressed her cheeks, holding her gaze. Leilani, a loyal girl, gets backstabbed when she arrives at the altar and sees her best friend standing in her place. A few years later she returns to take her revenge. Things are different now and she has a loving man by her side. But that's not all, her Ex wants her back.

He pushed her strapless dress below her very ripe boobs as they were now out , seeking for attention . Her rounded, full and very pointed attractions .He moved his concentration down. His kisses had retracted to her neck , as it now headed for her very ripe full breast , her lips immediately engulfed her dark pointy niples as she moaned with his hand playing with the other .He bit on her nipples as she moaned out the feeling abit of Pain and pleasure , but the pain was pleasure and she wanted more. His hand had wondered down to her thighs and maybe more .She moaned in delight as hs hand reached her pleasure camp. She noticed his face now back to hers , Her hands lingered over his chest before they somehow found his belt , undoing it. ‘’Alicia…’’

He smirked, knowing he was on the winning side. "So it's a done deal for three months?" He raised his eyebrows, putting his hand forth for a handshake. I looked at the long fingers and perfectly aligned nails and then at his patient face. Sighing to myself I my own hand into his and ignored the tingles that flowed through every nerve as his fingers curled around my hand and shook it lightly. "Yeah three months." "Goodnight then." He winked, removing his hand from mine and turned to walk away. "Hey wait!" I called out, suddenly remembering something. "You don't have my number." "What makes you think that? I have my ways Smith." And with one last wink I saw him take a turn and disappear from my sight. I let out a long breath, leaning on the nearby wall. Looks like I just made a deal with the Devil. * A sarcastic girl, a cocky guy. Throw in some mystery, murder, filthy jokes, wonderful friends, tons of kisses, secrets, surprises, eye-rolls and a killer on run. And you have got yourself a story never read before. ***So grab a cup of hot chocolate, some chips and a warm blanket and get ready to laugh, cry and bite your lip in anticipation. Enjoy!!

Behind every forbidden glance or every reckless touch, is a secret too dangerous to resist. From the lecture hall to the royal court, from quiet bedrooms to gilded stages. Dark Seduction lures you into the shadows where lust, power, and obsession collide. These stories unravel desires told to deny, teacher and student, bodyguard and singers, lawyers and client, kings and maids, lovers turned enemies. Some sins are whispered. Others are screamed in the dark and All of them will leave you breathless. Indulge in eleven volumes of forbidden desire, where every chapter is soaked in heat, danger, and surrender. ********************* Isaac Hayes wasn’t just anyone. He was my cousin. My mother’s sister’s son. My forbidden crush. “I just—” My voice faltered, my lips trembling before I forced the truth out. “I just wanna taste you.” His gaze darkened. “You want my cock in your mouth, Snow?” he asked. My lips parted, and I felt my cheeks flame. But the need inside me was too strong. I nodded. Isaac’s mouth crushed against mine again, stealing my breath. I melted into it, whimpering softly as his tongue tangled with mine. His hand slid up threading into my hair until his palm gripped the back of my neck, holding me firmly. His lips lingered on mine for a second, then he pulled back just enough to whisper against them. “Say it.” “Tell me you wanna suck my cock, pretty,” he murmured, his grip tightening, forcing my head to tilt slightly. “I’ll let you.” My lips parted, my voice trembling but soaked with hunger for my cousin's cock. I wanted to choke on his cock so bad. “I… I want to suck your cock, Isaac.” “Good girl,” he rasped, the praise sending heat flooding through me. “On your knees, Snow.”

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.

“Sometimes the devil doesn’t come to destroy you—he comes to finish what love couldn’t.” --- I saw a woman at the ballroom. Average height, stunning, sexy rose lips, black wavy hair, eyes sharp as spear, solid black heel higher than a new pencil. A long indigo dress that reminds you of the sea – my favourite. Then the v-cut from the foot of the dress to the damn hip. Crazy black designs all over. But now one thing is missing— her mask. I, Rafael Goldman, am known for having everything I want, no matter what it is, and getting the sweetheart of late Eric McCoy would be a thing worth my while... Especially if this particular person is exactly like my miha. --- LATER I held my balance on Preston; his thrusts punched the air from my lungs, another made my vision spark white. I screamed his name into the steam, my hair soaked, water dancing off my eyelashes. He fucked me like atonement, like penance, like the only god he believed in lived between my thighs. He groaned against my throat and it sent shivers down my spine. I saw his pupils in mine, holding the gaze steady. He cupped my cheek and gave me an aggressive kiss before I broke it, forcing his head to my neck. He kissed my throat, teeth scraping the pulse that was trying to kill me. I laughed softly, ragged and vicious, and bit his lip until I tasted blood. That particular finger staggered back to my cunt again and forced its way into my pussy while his dick was still inside, grinding me. Suddenly his left hand came over my mouth, cupping it firm, blocking my screams. --- Content Trigger Warning !! Contains BDSM, violence, sex, strong language, misogyny which may upset some viewers... ---

After serving five years in prison for Luke Dashwood, I walked out a free man… only to be handed divorce papers. It turned out his first love was terminally ill, and the dude's final wish was to become his family before he died. Swallowing my grief, I signed my name on the divorce papers. But when I reappeared hand in hand with another man, panic flashed across Luke's face. Suddenly, he wanted me back.

He found his mate he thought was dead, she found a man that saved her. He brought her into their world that she didn't know ever existed. He lost her yet again, but even in death she fought to survive to be with him, holding on to every last thread of life. Would he get her back? Would she survive? Life without my other half is a torment and hell, help me stay alive, help me survive, help me breath again.