Kokushibo Breathing Style

"Where are you going, Mrs?" Zaviyaar pulled her to himself after seeing her going away from him. She fell straight on his lap. "I was going to change the dress." She said in a low voice as she felt his warm breathing airing on her neck. "It's not needed." He said meaningfully to her and put his lips on her neck. Anaaya stopped breathing as she felt his grip getting tight. This man is living in her every breath. Zaviyaar tightened his grip on her waist and slowly his lips travelled up from her neck to her face. Anaaya's heart was pounding fast as she felt his warm lips and his beard rubbing against her skin. "You have become my soul, Anaaya Zaviyaar." He said lovingly, kissing Anaaya's cheeks. Anaaya abruptly held him tightly by his shoulders. "For the happening of this moment, I waited every moment." She leaned near his ear and taking a heavy breath, she told him in a soft voice. Abruptly, Zaviyaar's grip has tightened around her waist.

" Stop! just stop right there, Revan," Shaina said as she moved closer to the door, her hands sweaty with nest-like hair, she looked like a mental patient who ran out of the hospital. " Shaina, all I want is to talk to you why you are always looking at me with accusing eyes like I killed you? " Revan asked in an irritated tone. Little did he know he actually killed her. all the previous bitter memories started to flash in front of her eyes as her breathing ragged, Revan moved closer to her as she picked the vas from nearby to hit him and escape from his hold. she was not going to fall for his words again, she was not going to trust him again like she did in her previous life. " Shaina I am not going to do anything trust me," Revan said trying to cool her down but she was too scared to trust him, hell how can she trust the person who killed her. " you killed me Revan you killed me-- " she was about to say more when she felt his lips moving against hers. she tried to pull away but he held her neck and pulled her closer by her waist, all she wanted was to fight him but she couldn't. She gave in as he kissed her passionately, " I Love you Shaina, and the way you kissed me back, clearly states you do too " he whispered once he parted his lips from hers. Shaina's eyes teared as she looked at him and did what she wanted to do from the moment she saw him again in her life, She slapped him and ran away from his hold leaving a shocked Revan behind.

"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?

Les rêves deviennent réalité à travers ce recueil érotique. Le style désinhibé des nouvelles nous transporte vers des mondes particuliers où règne le plaisir. Tantôt doux, puis brûlant de passion, chaque personnage expose sa vérité sans détour, se met à nu pour raconter ses fantasmes. Luc, Meriam, Emma, Vladimir, Mélusine, Christophe ; un partage sincère de désirs dans des environnements savamment étudiés qui nous rappellent combien la vie est remplie de possibilités. Laissez-vous envahir par la poésie de l'artiste et voyez jusqu'où la curiosité peut vous conduire...

Tiffany Jones is beautiful, innocent and a straight-A student, straight from elementary school, well, until she met Zeke. She had a lot of bad experiences while growing up, but that didn't stop her from becoming the person she was. Except that she had very huge trust issues. In college, she's made to share a bedroom with who she calls a total jerk. Yup, that's him, Ezekiel Blakely, popularly known as Zeke. He's a bad boy. He's a player. He's dangerous. He's reckless. The two are seen and talked about in the college, making Tiffany get attention, which she dislikes. How's she gonna cope with such a jerk? Would she give in to his flirtatious character and risk it all or would she flee before it's too late? Keep reading to find out. "Why the f*** did you have to wear this," This time, he pinned me to the wall, completely taking me off guard. "Nerd you're turning me on," He said and then pressed himself against me. There was no doubt he was already turned on. Oh, God! He brought his face to my neck and breathed hotly against it, sending shivers to my body. He trailed one of his hands up to my dress and our breathing was already getting hot. With one hand on my waist and the other making its way to my bra he whispers, "Stop torturing little Zeke."

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

“You are still breathing now because of me. I save you from those men who were chasing you because of the debt you owe them. And in exchange of that..." he suddenly reached out and touched her chin softly. "You are going to be my sex slave. You must obey all my command. You are now trapped in my dominant ways. And there's no turning back." Ava Peterson's life is in danger, and it leads her to a mysterious man whom she bumps into. He offers her a role as his sex slave in exchange for saving her, promising her protection. Desperate to save herself and be free from all her problems, she agrees. Eventually, she discovers that he's not just a total stranger with desires to claim her body, but someone who plays a very significant part in her past.

The Vale family was the most powerful mafia syndicate in the New York City. And I—along with a few other carefully chosen girls—had been handpicked to join their ranks, trained from the ground up so that the next head of the family could choose his wife from among us. Wife. That was the kinder word for it. The truth was whoever got picked would become his shield, his weapon, his most loyal protector. Someone who would kill for him. Die for him. Years passed. One by one, the others fell away. In the end, only Elara Quinn and I remained. And then, Elara died—killed on a secret mission. After that, there were no more choices left. I became Adrian Vale’s wife by default. I had given everything to Adrian. And I loved him. I thought he loved me too until I took a bullet to the chest—meant for him. As I lay there, barely breathing, I heard Adrian talking to his assistant, “Don’t bury her in the Vale cemetery. My half is reserved for Elara.” That was it. Elara—who had never even lived long enough to marry him—still had a space carved beside him in death. I? I had taken the hit that should have ended him… and yet I wasn’t even good enough to be buried near him. I slowly closed my eyes. And when I opened them again, I was back on the day the Vale family formally announced Adrian as their new head. The day everything began.

(A sequel to His Maid's Son) Daniel didn't just get to be warden by chance; his no-nonsense personality and integrity made him the man he is today. That is until he met Liam. Never had he been torn between the need to protect someone and his moralities. Playing dirty wasn't his style but somehow the slender scared boy with golden-brown stares made him question everything he believes in. Completed on November 2019