Hand Holding Sword Novelas e Histórias

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!!

In the Valentino family, the rules were absolute—the title of Don passed only to the eldest son of the eldest line. On the day I was due to give birth, my water broke. The contractions came faster and harder, each wave of pain stronger than the last, until my consciousness began to drift. The baby's head was already crowning. Renato knelt beside the bed, gripping my hand, his eyes filled with what looked like heartbreak. I thought he would be my strength—my anchor. But through the haze, I heard him speaking to the midwife. "Control the dosage. Just delay Ellen's delivery for three hours." "But she is already fully dilated. Forcibly delaying it could be dangerous…" The midwife's voice trembled. "It's fine. She wasn't due yet anyway. She only went into labor because she secretly used induction drugs. Delaying the birth will only benefit her." Disbelief crashed over me. I tried with everything I had to speak—to explain. But then I saw him glance at his watch, murmuring to himself, "My sister-in-law is only five centimeters dilated. If we stall for three hours, my brother's child will be the eldest grandson. This is a promise I made to my brother." Terror seized me. I tried to struggle, but the needle had already pierced my skin. In an instant, the child that had been about to emerge was forced violently back into my body. The pain doubled, twisting through me like a storm. Darkness swallowed my vision, and I lost consciousness. When I came to, I had been dragged into an underground storage room. Only after his sister-in-law's son had been safely born did Renato remember me. When he returned—holding the toy he had personally made for our soon-to-be-born child—and ordered his assistant to bring me back to the operating room… All he found were two cold, lifeless bodies.

--- In the shadows of betrayal and loss, Diana McCoy rises from the ashes of a forbidden love that once saved her—and ultimately shattered her. Eric McCoy was her sanctuary, her darkest sin, until a bullet stole him away, leaving her with everything he has. Then, Wade McCoy, her lover's son kidnapped thesame day of his funeral. She makes a burning vow: to reclaim him from the people who took him. But vengeance is a treacherous path, and it leads straight to Rafael Goldman—a ruthless enigma who sees the fractured ruin in her soul and offers a devil's bargain drenched in desire. As their worlds collide in a storm of obsession and power, Diana surrenders to a passion that blurs the line between punishment and salvation. Can she wield her revenge without losing herself to the man who might be her greatest enemy... or her ultimate undoing? “Sometimes the devil doesn’t come to destroy you—he comes to finish what love couldn’t.” [Continue if you dare. From here you're on your own...] --- 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, bit his lip until I tasted blood. That particular finger staggered back to my cunt again and forced its way into my v*gin* while his d*ck was still inside, grinding me. Suddenly his left hand came over my mouth, cupping it firm, blocking my screams....

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.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

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.

Lord Xander was the ruler of the popular Xander community. He was fierce, cold evil and heartless - so many people believed. He was one of the most skillful in sword fights and Xander could fight a hundred men alone and come out victorious - that was just how powerful he was. If Xander wasn't in a battle field, he was in the training ground. If Xander wasn't killing someone, he was definitely watching a person get punished. That was his daily routine. That was the only pleasure he enjoyed. People feared and respected him so much. They worshipped the ground he stepped on. Even when he was wrong, nobody dared to correct him or say a word to him. Though, he wasn't a King but just a Master of a community, people felt he was more powerful than 10 Kings put together. He's been married to two ladies previously, but they all ended up dead - due to Unknown reasons. The community needed an heir and so, Xander had to get married to another wife - a third wife. And unfortunately, it turned out to be a stubborn princess who swore to do everything in her power to make sure he divorces her.

"You must regret calling off our engagement, right?!" I smiled faintly as my ex-fiancé lifted his chin proudly. "I don't regret it one bit for throwing out trash like you." Ethan was stunned. He couldn't accept that I had the courage to confront him. His pride had also been trampled upon when I called him 'trash.' Ethan raised one hand, about to slap me. However, his hand was caught by a large, muscular hand. "Uncle Nathaniel?" Ethan was shocked. His knees suddenly went weak at his uncle's sharp, cold gaze. "Be polite to your aunt." Ethan's eyes widened. He was even more shocked when Nathaniel's hand moved from my waist and embraced me affectionately. Ethan couldn't believe it. The ex-fiancée he'd left was now his aunt?!