Helluva Boss Martha Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Mmmmm, you like that handsome?" Martha asked seductively. "Please, Alinta, stop," Silas managed to mumble weakly, as though he had succumbed to whatever drugged him. Martha looked at his faded fated mark. "Just a little more, then you will feel so much better, my love," she coaxed sweetly and started to climb on him. She aligned herself with his upright shaft in her firm grasp and carefully lowered herself readying for that fateful contact. "He's soon to be ours. Once he feels this bliss he will never want to see that bitch," Breathed Martha excitedly to her wolf as she savoured the moment.

I had officially entered hell. And Martha was still cockblocking me.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, my m*ans spilling into the air as Ruther watches me unravel beneath his hands. His lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk. "That's right," he murmurs, pulling me into his arms, kissing me slow, deep, possessive. "You're mine, Diana Fallacia." And at that moment, I know. I belong to him. That terrifying realization sent a shiver down my spine as Ruther throw me in the b*d. We're not yet done. He hovered over me, his dark, predatory gaze pinning me in place.

She exclaimed in pain then turned and grabbed my hair, I grabbed hers too, I had had enough. We wrestled for a long while before Lila hearing the noise ran down. “You witch, what are you doing to my daughter?” she slapped me without asking to know how was at fault as usual. “I've had enough of you and your mannerless daughters treating me like a slave in my own father's house;” “Oh really?” “Mom what's going on here?” Martha asked running down. “What is this swine up to now?” Margaret was quivering in tears, I beat her up mercilessly and I felt satisfied.

As she turned, Marta stood at the edge of the square. The miller’s wife looked smaller than Elizabeth remembered—drawn tight around the mouth, eyes too bright with unspent fear. “You should not be out,” Marta said. Elizabeth inclined her head. “Neither should you.” Marta flinched. “They say you were heard talking alone.” Elizabeth almost smiled. “They say,” she echoed. “They say God did not answer you,” Marta continued, voice cracking despite herself. “That if He had wanted you, He would have—” She stopped, swallowing hard. “They say something else did.”

The faces of his mother and two aunts filled the entire intercom screen. “Angel, are you in there, Honey?” “We should have called Angel first before coming here. She might not live here anymore. Doesn't she live with Xander?” It was Aunt Martha's voice! Angel paced back and forth in front of the door, biting her nails frantically. She could just pretend she wasn't home and let them go home. But, was she capable of doing that? Especially because her mother and two aunts had traveled quite a long way to visit her in New York.

Instead, she’d been fucked into oblivion by the man she’d thought was just her demanding, impossible boss. Her demanding boss who was also her mysterious online Dom. Her demanding boss who’d made her scream his name loud enough that his neighbors probably heard. Loud enough that she’d lost her voice. Her demanding boss who’d held her after, who’d bathed her in his huge marble tub, who’d brushed her hair with such tenderness she’d nearly cried. She should feel violated. Manipulated. Used. Instead she felt… peaceful. More peaceful than she’d felt in years. Maybe ever. Like something inside her had finally clicked into place. Like a puzzle piece finding the slot it was always meant to fill. Lik

“Boss… I don’t know. One minute everything was normal, the next I felt so damn sleepy. Like someone hit me with a truck. I swear I fought it, but my eyes kept closing. It was like some kind of gas in the air. I don’t understand how…” I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, my knuckles white. “Gas? You’re telling me someone gassed my building and took her right out from under your noses? While I was in the damn kitchen?” Marcus winced but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, sir. We failed you. I failed you.” I released him with a shove, running both hands through my hair as I paced the room. My mind was racing, the wolf inside snarling and pacing with me. Clara was out there somewhere, scared, pro

“Shit… that girl is fine. Like—really fine. She’s so beautiful and curvy. You seen her body lately? Fuck. She’s hot as hell.” Martha shook her head, still dazed. “I mean, I’m straight, but if I had five minutes with her, babe? I’d flip my whole sexuality. I’d worship that woman. Damn, she’s got that energy. You know what I mean? That ‘ruin your life and make you beg for more’ type of energy.” She was still mid-rant when she caught Judith’s glare—the venomous, seething stare that could slice skin. Martha’s words withered instantly.