Novelas y relatos de His Ring On Her Finger My Name On The Door

“Come on, Shan. Just do it. It would be all too easy.” I closed my eyes, dipped my fingers into the front pocket of his pants, and began to grope. I felt him tense, but he did not say anything when I felt the end of a key.. Then, I wiggled my fingers just a little until the pad of my thumb and index finger caught the ring. “I got it,” I told him, feeling hot all over. I pulled out the key ring and laid it out in my palms. “Which is for the main door?”

I didn’t move for a second. Then walked toward it, slow. One ring. No knock. I unlocked the door and opened it. There she was. The half-reason this entire mess existed in the first place. Amia.

And had become a part of me. I ambled to the door, so I could go after Luna Margaret. “She can't sell off my ring, no, she can't,” I said to myself repeatedly. However, when I got to the door and pressed down the knob, it wouldn't budge. It appeared this motherfucking daughter of a bitch had locked me in. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks, “No!” I banged on the door. “No, please...I am sorry for responding but please do not sell my ring!” My voice cracked.

Cheryl spent a few minutes pounding on the door in a rage, but she finally slunk away with Jasper after the neighbor across the hall threatened to call the cops. She came back the next day. This time, she thrust her hand in front of my face, pointing to the ring on her ring finger. "Kevin, look! This is the cherry blossom ring you had custom-made for me," she said. "You said you loved cherry blossoms because they reminded you of my name." She grabbed my hand desperately. "You have one too. You've worn it every single day since the wedding…" Her voice died in her throat. My ring finger wasn't just bare. There wasn't even a tan line or a faint indentation where a ring should have been.

“You don’t own me.” “Don’t I?” I murmured. My hand slid from her chin to the side of her chest, resting lightly space where the necklace dipped between her tits. The sight of the diamonds between her perfect milky tits drove me up the wall and added to my arousal. Her pulse thrummed beneath my fingers, and she sucked in a sharp breath with each slow caress of my fingers. “Your sister’s name might be on the invitation, but the ring on your finger says otherwise.

Without a word, they understood each other. Selina took Henry’s ring out of her pocket and handed it to Raven. Raven slid the ring into the keyhole, and it fit perfectly. The sound of the mechanism unlocking echoed through the silent kitchen. Selina held her breath, her heart pounding, as the secret hidden behind the door slowly revealed itself.

“Happy birthday. Get dressed and I’ll see you in our office.” “Maddox!” I yelled, but the bedroom door was already closed. Opening the box, it took the breath out of my lungs. A stunning oval shaped diamond ring was pushed between some blue velvet fabric. “Maddox…” I said in our mind-link. “It’s so beautiful…” “Sparkles like you, love.” “Cheesy…” I said, but laughed as I pulled it out and slipped it on my finger. “Make sure it’s on that ring finger that’s attached to your left hand, baby girl.”

"Victor takes her to the door. I keep the knife on her until yours is open." "Deal." "Lena," Victor said brokenly. "Don't do this." "It's okay," she said. She wasn't sure if she was lying. She walked to the great silver door and stood in front of it. The carved moons seemed to shiver. Up close, she could see three round hollows in the metal, each the size of a coin. The first had a small slot beside it. She slid the ring from her right hand into the first hollow. It clicked. The second ring, her father's, slid into the next. Victor stumbled forward with Lyra's arm in his, and with trembling fingers, he set Naomi's ring into the third.

I murmur under my breath. Not a dream. I glance to my right, to my nightstand, and find a plate full of food there. Fresh fruit, cut neatly. Yogurt. Eggs. A glass of orange juice. A cup of tea that’s just barely gone cold. And beside it— A rose. I don't think I can get used to- I halt when I almost touch my glass of tea. There’s something on my finger. Slowly, I turn my hand. A ring. My ring finger. Left hand.

I walk toward the room, keeping my distance from him. Inside, there is a bed, a small table, and a narrow window overlooking the rain-swept runway. The space is comfortable, but the locked door makes it clear that comfort has nothing to do with freedom. I turn back toward Declan. “Don't come any closer.” He remains in the doorway. For several seconds, neither of us speaks. Then I notice the silver chain around his neck. A wedding ring hangs from it, catching the light as he moves. My gaze settles on the ring.