Lidah Terasa Kasar の小説・ストーリー

Luka: But I feel ridiculously happy. I smiled in sheer happiness. Who knew that there was this side to Luka where he could freely open up with his emotions. Luka: Are you sore? Me: What? You mean from doing the nasty? I'll rather chew glass than say the word, 'fucked' to him. His call came in almost immediately and I groaned. I heard his soft chuckles next. "Isabella you know there are many other synonyms you can use than the phrase, "doing the nasty?"

“Yes, you have! So many things! Just seeing you makes my blood boil! If you think you can use your child with the Gomez family to climb up the ladder, well, you’re wrong! I won’t let you have a share in Papa’s properties either!” Lirah gripped her bag tightly, unable to understand her sister’s words. It was evident she was angry because her cheeks were still flushed. Lirah turned and started walking away, but Liza suddenly grabbed her arm. “Ate! You’re hurting me!” “Remember this, Lirah. You will always be trash! No amount of expensive clothes and perfume can cover up your foul origins!” Liza said, giving Lirah a slight push. She almost stumbled if she hadn’t grabbed onto the wall.

Just… less like a murder and more like a complaint. “Yeah,” I murmured, swaying instinctively. “I know. It’s terrible. You were warm and floating, and now everything is cold and loud and full of idiots who don’t speak your language. I’d be pissed too.” Behind me, from the bed: “Are you calling yourself an idiot?” “If the wailing fits,” I said. Lilah cracked one eye open. In the dim light, she looked pale, hair a dark halo around her head, but there was a soft steadiness in her gaze.

My legs slowly move up each step allowing me to remain my cautious of my surroundings. "Move faster!" Liam said as he pushed me forward. "I'm tired, damn" I said cursing under my breath My eyes flicker up to the 50 more steps that were left, making me become exhausted at the thought of climbing them. I close my eyes and start walking up the steps playing music in my head, trying to desperately get through this. I've never been much of an athlete, I actually don't work out at all Id much rather savor my energy than to burn it.

But damn concentration! My palm made contact with his sharp jaw. I was afraid the jaw could cut my hand with how smooth it was, but why is it so soft? “What's that? A tickle?" Casper laughed humorously. “You did not just call that slap a tickle!" My eyes widened in horror. What kind of man is this?

“Today you’ll work for every cent I’ve spent on you. Go and get me a glass of cold water. Then clean the entire house and make dinner.” Lidia pushed herself up from the floor. Her limbs felt heavy, her skin throbbing with pain. She could already feel welts forming beneath her thin dress. Still, she made her way to the kitchen, each step slow, deliberate—half from pain, half from the effort of holding back fresh tears.

One day in the morning, he arrived with a girl holding hands and kissing, when Lidia heard the voices, she went out and saw that he was hugging and kissing her, so she was very indignant and said to him: -Hey what's wrong with you, I already realized that you are in my house, at least respect your home a little. He turns around, sees her, takes her by the arm strongly, takes her to the bedroom, closes the door, sees her and slaps her so hard, that she went to the other side of the bed, Lidia gets up and tells him: "What's wrong with you, that woman, that woman, what's wrong with you? -What's wrong with you, that woman is out there.

He didn't even have to touch me like he did this afternoon but he was already hard… because of me. Savaş's eyes narrowed at me, snapping me out of my haze. "What's gotten into you, Ida?" "N-nothing." I didn't even think before saying that and I don't think I even understood the question at all but it's not my fault. It's the fault of these sensations I'm getting and they are travelling directly down my stomach and threatening to go lower.

Just final. She barely reacted. But just before the exit—a voice cracked like glass. “Laaya…” The sound ripped from his throat, but only in the confines of his mind. Iden sat bolt upright in bed, gasping. "Fuck this dream again." He muttered. Sweat soaked his bare back, trickling down his spine, clinging to him like a second skin. His breathing was ragged, fists tangled in the sheets. He dragged a hand over his face, fingers digging into his scalp as if he could claw the memory out of his brain.