Koopa Troopa Dry Bones

I positioned her legs a good width apart and enter my index finger into her going in and out of her, Seeing this Zander and Pablo comes over each taking a breast and sucking hard you can hear her loud moans through the room. "feels good, aby girl?" I asked. she only replied with "UMMM, huh." I then started to lick her pussy and suck on her clit, after having my fill and lick her dry we unattached ourselves from her. Picking her up in a princess carry I went to bed and my two men pulled down the covers and I placed her on the bed. Continuing where Pablo left off at sucking on her breast, Zander took upon himself to start making out with our girl. I undressed as so were they, and got my cock ready to enter her beautiful, extremely wet overflowing pussy, then I slammed into her, I could hear her moaning against Zander's lips, I then pumped her harder and deeper. With one last final slam I released into her playing with her now swollen clit as I did. Zander's P.O.V. After Andre slid out of her I took over, I flipped her on all fours and spread her legs as far apart as they could and then without warning I slammed hard and deep inside of her. She screamed out in pleasure as Pablo took hold of her breasts and began to fondle and pull on the nipples while trailing kisses down her back. Andre took a hand full of her hair, bend her head back an crashed his lips onto hers in a passion, lustful kiss. I continued with slamming into her very wet dripping pussy until I released into her.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

Before my parents died, they arranged for me to marry Alan Palmer, the powerful but impotent overlord of Northingdale. The day I received the engagement letter, strange floating messages appeared before my eyes. [Don't marry him. He can't have kids, and he's violent!] [If you go through with this, that freak will torture you to death. Run!] [Your childhood sweetheart is your true love. Run away with him!] My childhood sweetheart, Leon Wade, grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes with what seemed like deep affection. "Tiffany, let's run away together. Have your maid take your place and marry Alan. She knows you well. No one will notice." Fooled by the so-called love in his eyes and those floating messages, I chose to go with him in my past life. I could only watch as the maid stole my identity as the heiress of the Glissons, gave Alan a son, and walked away with hundreds of millions of dollars in fortune. In the end, Leon held her in his arms. He tied a huge stone to me, kicked me into the ocean, and said smugly, "From now on, she's Tiffany. As for you, rot at the bottom of the sea forever!" I watched as sharks slowly tore into my body, pain ripping through every inch of me, until only my bones sank into the dark water. After being reborn, I finally understood that those floating messages were fake. They were carefully planted traps designed by Leon. Now, facing him and his pleas for me to run away, I let out a cold laugh and ignored the floating messages. "I'm not some helpless maiden. I'm marrying Alan."

"I warned you, Lena. No man touches you except me. You're mine now, let that stick." That was his first warning. Delivered with a cold stare and a voice that didn't allow defiance. "Now, I'm going to fuck you till every other man looks like a woman to you." That was her punishment, and she couldn't even lie to herself about how much she enjoyed it. Abandoned by her father, Lena Anderson, whose dream was to become a surgeon, never planned to end up in a mafia-owned strip club. But when your sister is diagnosed with cancer and your mother can barely walk because of a stroke, you do all it takes to keep them alive. All it took was one night to change her entire life. She didn't plan on killing her first VIP client. But when he forced himself on her without permission, she made sure he never touched anyone again. It wasn't her intention, nor was it getting caught. But she was. Not by the police. By someone ruthless, Lucano Baricelli, her boss, heir to the Baricelli family. A mafia don. A man known to break bones before asking questions. He should have turned her in. Instead, he offered her a deal. Pretend to be his wife for five years so he could win his father's trust and take over the mafia empire. In return? He keeps her out of prison and makes sure she never lacks anything. She accepted. But there were rules. Never get pregnant. Never be caught with any man. Rules are made to be broken, so they say. Lena Anderson broke both, and it drove Lucano nuts.

Following an army mission, I ended up spending three years in a coma. After regaining consciousness, I request a temporary leave from the hospital. I sneak over to the army base where my wife, Major Alicia Connor, is stationed. With my heart bursting with joy, I prepare to give her a surprise—only to spot her on the training grounds, cradled in the arms of another man while he does his squats. The newly recruited soldiers cheer them on, saying, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" I figure they're just joking around, but Alicia proceeds to kiss the man without any hesitation. Still clinging to hope, I tell the soldier on guard to tell Alicia to come out and see me. Instead, it's that man, Steven Greene, who shows up. He gets the other soldiers to press me in the mud, snarling menacingly, "He's the monster who kept stalking Alicia three years ago and took advantage of her when she was drunk!" He stomps on the bouquet of asters I bring with me, driving them into the mud as well. "How dare a scar-faced cripple like you set your sights on Alicia? She's the youngest female major in the history of the army! "I'm going to make it clear to you today that Alicia isn't someone a loser like you can get any ideas about!" Blood sputters from my mouth as they give me a good thrashing. The bones in my already injured leg split and fractured even more. But what Steven doesn't know is the fact that, without me, Alicia can't even remain in the army, let alone be a major.

Her body went still. Then his voice dropped lower, laced with venom and promise. “By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you never said …I do.” Angelo placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer in… closer than fear, closer than escape. He leaned in, his smile picture perfect for the cameras. “Now kiss your groom,” he murmured. Then…. His breath ghosted over her lips before sealing the moment with a kiss… cold, calculated and final. This wasn't marriage, nor love. Rather, it was war. It was the beginning of her sentence. Millicent felt it in her bones, the quiet threat beneath his touch. She hadn't just married a man. She had stepped into the arms of her executioner. “Smile for the crowd, Mrs. De Angelis,” Angelo whispered in a low and poisonous voice. “Because soon… they'll be watching you burn.” *Click* The cameras flashed. ~~~~~~~~ To save her brother, Millicent Romano agreed to marry the one man her heart never forgot, Angelo De Angelis. But he isn’t the boy she once knew. He’s a Don now. A powerful and ruthless Don who was hell-bent on revenge. To Angelo, she’s nothing more than a pawn, poisoned gift from an enemy empire. The wedding was never about love… it was about war. But desire doesn’t play by the rules of vengeance, and neither does the past they share. As vengeance dives deep, obsession dives ten times deeper. As secrets unravel, there's only one question left…. When love is laced with blood, someone's bound to bleed. In a world where loyalty kills faster than bullets.... Who will fall first?

Finish the mission, Seven, or we finish your sister." My handler's voice is static in my ear. Clinical. My sister's heartbeat still echoes from this morning's audio clip, steady, for now. Across the Volkov's gilded ballroom, my three targets watch me with possessive hunger. Alexei, whose brutal hands lift my chin like I'm something precious. Dimitri, who counts my lies like other men count coins. Nikolai, whose kindness is the most dangerous weapon of all, because it's the first thing that cracked my programming. I was engineered for this. Genetically modified to be immune to their mate bond, sculpted into the perfect weapon to destroy the most dangerous werewolf mafia family in Russia. Six months to make them love me. Six months to kill them. My immunity is failing. I feel it when Nikolai's touch doesn't repulse me. When Dimitri's suspicion feels like concern. When Alexei's cruelty looks more like pain. The bond I was supposed to fake is stitching itself into my bones, real and terrifying. Now my handlers want the kill. My sister's life for theirs. But the man who created me is their uncle. This isn't a mission, it's an eighty-year revenge, and I'm the blade he sharpened to cut his own bloodline. They think they've claimed their fated Luna. I'm carrying the knife that could end them. And I'm not sure which is sharper anymore:the silver in my sleeve, or the hope in my chest that maybe, just maybe, I could belong to them instead of my creators.

Welcome to Blackwood University, where the tuition costs a fortune, but the secrets cost your life. I thought a scholarship to the country’s most elite university was my ticket out of the shadows. I was wrong. I didn’t just walk into a school; I walked into a lion’s den. And sitting on the throne is Niccolò De Luca. Nico is beautiful, brilliant, and brutal. He is the heir to the most powerful crime syndicate on the East Coast, and he runs this campus like his personal kingdom. He breaks hearts, he breaks bones, and now, he’s decided to break me. Not because I’m the scholarship case. But because he knows who I really am. I am the daughter of the man who stole millions from the De Luca family and vanished. Nico intends to use me to lure my father out of hiding. His plan is simple: torment me until I break, make my life a living hell, and keep me under his thumb until the debt is paid in blood. But the line between hate and obsession is razor-thin. When his torment turns into possessiveness, and his taunts turn into touches I can’t refuse, the game changes. I was supposed to be his pawn, but I’m becoming his weakness. Now, with a rival family closing in on campus and my father’s enemies circling, Nico has to make a choice: Hand me over to settle the score... or burn the world down to keep me. "You think you can hide from me in the library, little mouse?" Nico whispered, his breath hot against the shell of my ear as he pinned me against the stacks. "You are living on borrowed time. And unfortunately for you, I’m the one collecting the interest."

When our two packs were at war, I secretly injected myself with the deadly Silverthorn Toxin to save my Alpha mate. But when he woke, Fenris hailed another she-wolf, Vanessa, as his savior, and condemned me as his enemy. "Freya, you are here to repay a blood debt. Your Silver Crest pack owes me the lives of my entire pack." He obliterated the last remnants of my family in this city. He imprisoned me on his private territory, tormenting me daily, his Alpha presence a constant, crushing weight. He dressed Vanessa in the Luna's gown and announced that she was carrying his child. And to everyone else, I was nothing more than a canary in his gilded cage. The tearing agony of our rejected mate bond was more lethal than any torture. He gripped my jaw, forcing me to watch as the landmarks my family had built were torn down, one by one. "Did you really think one mating ceremony could wash away the ocean of blood between us?" he sneered, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "You slaughtered my people. Do you think sending just one of you could ever atone for that sin?" Every time I tried to end my own life, he would dig up the bones of one of my kin from their graves and grind them to dust right in front of me. "I told you, you don't get to die without my permission." I stopped struggling. Let him hate me. After all, I only had three days left until the Silverthorn Toxin in my veins ran its course.

Sometimes God gave you what you want, sometimes you were born a werewolf rather than some pathetic little human, sometimes you got a chance to become a Human queen and rule both species… And, just like that, sometimes life fucked you up by letting you meet your mate whom you're supposed to reject, sometimes things get even more fucked up when your mate turns out to be a priest, the person who raised you, and sometimes your fucked up mind decided to seduce him. No, the fucked up things didn't stop yet, sometimes that person who always treated you like a child, the person who was not even supposed to touch any woman, responds to your innocent kiss by eating up your wet filthy hole as if his life depended on it as if the world is ending, and he will never get to eat again, and the thing between your thighs seems like the sweetest dessert to him. And finally, sometimes, you forget all the rules, you forget what is right and what is wrong when your miserable heart dares to yearn for someone you weren't even supposed to dream about, a saint. ••• " Remove your clothes, Freya.", he ordered in a low husky voice. But I didn't move...couldn't move as I watched him. His big body leaned over a bundle of dry grass, tight black shirt covered his hard chest, two buttons open, showing his pale white skin, his belt...now opened, slack just down enough for his dick to pop out, thick veiny shaft, wrapped under his slender fingers, its head, red as if his dick was angry. And when I looked up at his face, I couldn't believe he was the same man who raised me!