Head Tone Vs Falsetto

What if the Moon Goddess was a temperamental tyrant with her own motivations and desires? Gemma Hayes, human witch, struggles to find her place among the wolves. As a the living vessel for the Moon Goddess, every alpha wants to own her. To possess her. To make her his obsession. He cleared his throat. “Another thing.”  Yes?” I asked, wondering what else he could possibly demand from me. "End your fucking engagement with Kieran.” His stiff tone left little room for argument. Oh, that! I shook my head, turning away. “He just lost his damn sister! I cannot. Not right this moment.” “You can and will. Call him. Text him. I don’t give a fuck but you better end that shit.” Fuck! “I will. Soon.” Of course I couldn't string Kieran along. I trembled at the mere idea of dealing him another blow right after the death of his beloved sister. A tear trickled down my face. “Do you actually love him?” He asked, anger rippling with each word.  I rubbed my temples. The stress of this damn mate bond would eat me alive. “Of course not. But circumstances…” “Circumstances being you are my fucking mate! Mine to claim. Mine to own. Mine to cherish. Mine to love. Mine to fucking obsess over. You, Gems, have always been my only addiction. An addiction I have no desire to kick. Ever.” I stared at him, hopeless. I had no defenses left to fight his magnetic attraction. I allowed his gravity to grab me, suck me under, pull me into his consuming orbit. Again. Fuck!

Bridget's lips curled slightly into a satisfied smirk. “We’ll see. Start the car and drive me to the city.” “Yes, ma’am,” Hans said as he opened the passenger door for her. As the car pulled out of the mansion’s long driveway, Bridget couldn’t help but notice Hans's composure. His movements were precise, his demeanor calm. “You drive well,” she remarked. “Thank you, ma’am,” Hans replied without breaking his focus on the road. Bridget tilted her head, studying him. “Why become a driver?” she asked suddenly. Hans hesitated for a moment. “Personal reasons, ma’am.” “Hmm. You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?” Bridget teased, though her tone carried genuine curiosity. Somehow, she wanted to know the deepest of the deepest of his driver. That's how it works for her. Maybe. Before Hans could reply, she noticed a black SUV trailing close behind them. Her instincts, sharp as ever, kicked in. “Hans, speed up,” she commanded. “We’re being followed.” “Yes, ma’am,” Hans said, immediately accelerating, maintaining his composed demeanor, and his expertise in driving. The black SUV matched their pace, confirming Bridget's suspicion. “Lose them,” she ordered, gripping her seatbelt. Hans’s hands moved deftly across the wheel, taking sharp turns and expertly navigating the highway. Bridget watched in amazement, realizing he was no ordinary driver. “Who are you, really?” she asked, her voice low and filled with intrigue. “Just your driver, ma’am,” Hans replied with a faint smile.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

On our wedding night, my husband Grayson's sister-in-law, Scarlette, stumbled drunkenly into our bridal suite and threw her arms around him, refusing to let go. "Kayla, my husband died young, and I really just want a child. Please, lend him to me for one night," she cried through her tears, shoving a toy into my hand. "I promise I'll return him tomorrow. And if you get lonely… you can use this to comfort yourself." I stood there, dumbfounded, my gaze shifting in confusion to Grayson, who was already helping Scarlette steady herself. "You're really going to sleep with her?" He avoided my eyes, his tone strangely urgent. "Don't overthink it. She's drunk and talking nonsense. I'll take her back to her room to rest." As he started to leave with her, I stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "Grayson, it's our wedding night tonight. Are you seriously going to walk out with her?" His expression darkened as he pushed me aside. "You're my wife now—try to be more sensible. Don't get jealous over something so trivial." Then, carefully, he guided her out of the room. I wanted to run after him and stop them, but when I saw the deep concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the truth finally hit me. The love this man had for me was no longer mine alone. And if that was the case, why should I cling to a marriage that had already soured? I might as well walk away with my head held high.

“Strip!” Lucas said in an authoritative tone, and my body shivered in excitement. My eyes never leave his golden ones that shine so brightly. I wanted to tease him a little, but then this was supposed to be a lesson, and he was the teacher. “Are you having second thoughts about it?” His voice was barely audible, but I couldn't miss the tone that said, ‘You don't have the guts to do it. You are still a kid!’ With determination, I zipped down my gown and pulled it at a go. “No, I'm not having second thoughts,” I murmured, and then before he could utter his next words, I pulled him by his tie and kissed him on the lips as hungrily as I could ever be. “Easy, little one, let me show you what satisfaction means.” ~~~ When Abigail's father sends Abigail to intern at his best friend's company, he expects Lucas to keep a watchful eye on her while he is away. But as they spend more time together, Lucas finds himself drawn to Abigail's captivating character and vibrant spirit. Torn between his promise to his best friend and his growing desires, Lucas must decide whether he will fight his feelings or destroy the relationship between him and his best friend.

“You are not going to disrespect me! She is a commoner, and I’d rather die than let you be with her!” Isaac’s father was very loud and his tone was threatening. “Then you better drop dead right now, because I’m sick of being caged by the standards and rules that this family has set for me! I’m sick of being a robot built for the sole purpose of being the heir to the Ford fortune!” Isaac spat the words in his father’s face.

"I'm going to f**k you so hard that you won't remember a thing." He spoke in a commanding tone as he drew nearer to her lips. ****** This book consist of one shot stories that revolves around different characters like; Mafia, President, CEO, bully boy and their romance. Buckle up to read this crazy series. Part-1: Submitting to Mafia Part-2: Submitting to Professor Part-3: Submitting to CEO Part-4: Submitting to bully boy Part-5: Submitting to President

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

Moans. I hear moans. "Ugh! Faster!" I covered my ears like an innocent child hoping that they would quite down. I ran back down the kitchen and drank a glass of water. I'm not paid enough for this. Thinking back and I was already regretting my life decisions— NOT! Now that I have discovered how much of a big womanizer this fiancée of mine is, I think I now have a reason to dump him. Disguised as his maid is so hard just to get intel unto what his true colors actually are. Honestly wasn't the best idea, but it definitely is the most efficient one. I sat on the counter of the kitchen and rested my head on the table over my folded arms. Perhaps a nap might help innocent me up. Just when slumber finally came, I heard sloppy footsteps coming down the staircase. The "young master" finally finished his business. I went to meet them at the bottom of the stairs to greet his lady friend safety on her way home. "I can't wait for tomorrow night," she said in a seductive tone and batted her lashes on him. I held back my urge to barf. Her arms are all over him as if she was the drunk one when in fact it was my good for nothing fiancé. "You're too loud," Timothee replied as it was his way of rejecting girls. And yes, another girl cried that night. She won't be expecting to sleep with him again. As the lady went out the door, I look at the young master. His hair wet, topless and jeans unbuttoned. "Don't drool over me, scullery maid." And with that he went back up. Jerk!

He abruptly snatches me, closing the distance between us, putting his hand on the back of my head. All the hair on my body rises on alert; one wrong move I might shapeshift in here. His masculine scent infiltrated me with so much finesse. Damn, he smells divine. "What the hell--" "Shut your mouth; those thugs are after me; I need your help." His baritone tone is manly, very manly which catches me off guard a little. No one can lay a finger on me; he is the first man ever to touch me. I'm with a stranger in a strange position. How annoying can this night be? "Alright, Mister, I will give you three seconds to let me go, or else you might lose your hands." My tone is cold and dangerous. I’m hoping he heeds my warning. The tall man keeps leaning forward to me, putting our bodies in an intimate, awkward setting. "One, Two, Thre--" He steers his legs forward. My heart was beating a mile per second. I can't believe he is doing this! Feeling his warm palms cupping my face, the next thing I know, he is kissing me. His lips taste like strawberries. I got an entry pass into heaven!