Irresistible Novelas e Histórias

replies the creative director, facing the other woman. "Don't you think this slogan favors some and excludes others?" Hilary intervenes. "What do you mean?" Graham wants to know. "'Be what you want to be', the idea of the video is to show some people being accepted in places of prominence, thus demonstrating the effect of perfume..." Caine gets straight to the point, and I think we all have an idea of what the ad will be like," I say, sensing some animosity in his tone, just like the first time he mentioned Miss Nihara.

I need sex! As I pull away, my eyes roam over him. His chest rises and falls peacefully, oblivious to the raging storm inside me. He is so handsome and perfect—a Greek god carved from marble. The sunlight cast on his golden skin only makes him look even more irresistible, and I bite my lower lip. Is it possible to resist him? His sculpted jawline, the stubble on his cheeks, his thick, dark lashes resting against his cheekbones—everything is telling me to just go for it.

He will fuck you even in the presence of your kids and you can't even resist him no matter how much of self-control you have. You can even bend for him in the presence of your grandmother while feeling guilty for the old woman and then intense arousal for the hot guy, but no matter how guilty you feel, if he tells you to climb the dining table and open up for him you can't resist and will have no option than to put the thought of your grandmother at the back of your head that moment. He is wild, he is nonchalant to anything, his body is addicting, he is sex and he is hot.

"You can’t hide from me. The lure of blood is too powerful, and you know it. Think of the sweet taste of it. The way it dances on your tongue, sending shivers of delight down your spine. It’s irresistible!" “Nay, 'tis not in my nature to succumb to such wanton depravity.” he insists, his jaw clenched in determination. Undeterred, I press on, painting a tempting picture with my words. "Can you really forget the intense pleasure? The explosion of flavor that sets your senses alight? You’d willingly pass that up?" “I must abstain,” he repeats, despite the torment etched on his face. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his muscles taut with the effort to restr

Goddess. It’s a force of nature, sweet and fresh—in fact, it’s anything I imagine it to be. It wraps around me like a vice, slipping past every wall of resistance I’ve built. Breathing it in feels like willingly inhaling drugs, knowing it will destroy me but unable to stop. It seeps into my lungs, my veins, my very being, stirring instincts I’ve spent weeks trying to suppress. This—this unbearable hunger, this fire coursing through me—is the aftermath of the kiss.

"Or maybe... you just can’t resist me." I pretended to consider it, dragging my teeth across my bottom lip. "Maybe you’re right. Maybe... it’s because you’re completely irresistible." His gaze turned molten. "Then let’s put that theory to the test." He didn’t wait for permission. He kept proving it again and again for the rest of the weekend. And truthfully, I wouldn’t mind if he kept proving it… for the rest of our lives. THE END

Abi said, “is not the question you ask unless you already know the answer.” Clara closed her eyes. “I don’t,” she replied. “That’s the problem.” Silence stretched, familiar and safe. “Repeat it,” Abi urged gently. “But say it honestly.” Clara leaned her hip against the counter. “Why,” she said quietly, “am I so drawn to Adrian Vale when everything about him complicates my life?” There it was. Not a strategy. Not optics. Not power, but truth. By the time Clara ended the call, the kettle had gone cold.

"For you, I'd become anyone." "You don't understand." I shook my head. "It's not about the face." "Then what is it?" Tommaso asked urgently. "Tell me. I can change." "You can't change this. You'll never be Marco, and you'll never be Dante." "Why?" he asked desperately. "How am I inferior to them?" "Because you don't love me," I stated matter-of-factly. "You're just uncomfortable with the change." Tommaso was struck by those words. He shouted, "I love you! I love you now!"

Iris had just plumped up the cushions on the sofa in one of the crash rooms and she was now desperately trying to find something else to do to keep her mind off Viking. Every time she thought about him, a throbbing ache started between her legs, she got breathless and vacant, she had to fight down the urge to just dash across the parking lot to the tattoo parlour and attack him where he stood. For the first time in her life, she understood what amazing sex did to you: it made you want it more and more. It made you addicted to it, and to the person who gave it to you.

Iris finally parts her lips slightly, and I don’t waste a single moment, taking her silent invitation with complete, roaring gratification. She tastes incredibly sweet, just like every other single thing about her. Her taste is like gentle, rich honey that perfectly matches her scent in name. It makes me groan again at the sheer, unadulterated delight it causes within my system. I needed more of it; I knew with absolute certainty that I could no longer live without it. Our tongues caress gently, small, precious whimpers escaping Iris as she presses her body closer to mine, as if trying to physically merge us into one being.