Lirik Motion Sickness

‎ ‎He was born in blood, forged in betrayal, and crowned in darkness. She was broken, discarded, and ready to disappear. But when Kane Salvatore, the demon of Beltforte Dominia, drags Castelle Quinn back from the edge, their collision sparks a war. In his arms, she finds her prayers answered—brutal salvation. At her side, he finds freedom from his curse—the peace his demons never let him taste. For Castelle her heart craves darkness, and the demon—Kane— tastes like salvation. ‎Together, they will burn the world that tried to destroy them — and rise from the ashes, king and queen of ruin. ‎ ‎The only woman he has ever craved to own and possess. The Queen of his heart that satisfies his every need. ‎ ‎"Beautiful," he murmurs. The sight of her—bent over, wrists tied, ass raised, trembling—was a masterpiece.  ‎ ‎He nudges her legs further apart, admiring the way she opens for him. She's on full display—raw, submissive, exquisite. He pinched her inner thighs, watching her squirm, feeding on her whimpers.  ‎ ‎Then, he strikes.  ‎A sharp slap directly to her swollen clit making her scream. The sound alone could make him cum.  ‎ ‎He chuckles darkly. It unsettles her—and that’s exactly the point.  ‎He grabbed the flogger, trailing its strands over her back, down to her legs. With a swift motion, I bring it down hard. The crack fills the room. Her body jolts, red lines blossoming instantly on her skin.  ‎ ‎Again on her ass. Again on her clit.  ‎She shatters. 

He was the strictest Dom, he loved to control women. She was a free bird and didn't want anybody to control her. He was into BDSM stuff and she despised it with all her heart. He was looking for a challenging submissive and she was a perfect match but this girl wasn't ready to accept his offer since she lived her life without any rules and regulations. She wanted to fly high like a free bird without any limitations. He had this burning desire to control her because she could be a perfect choice but she was a tough nut to crack. He was getting crazy to make her his submissive, controlling her mind, soul and body. Will their fate fulfil his desire to control her? Or will this desire transform into the desire of making her his? To get your answers dive into the heartwarming and intense journey of the hottest and strictest Master you will ever find and his innocent little butterfly. *** "Fuck you and get the hell out of my cafe if you don't want me to kick your ass." He frowned and dragged me to the backside of the cafe by seizing my wrist. Then he pushed me into the party hall and hurriedly locked the door. "What the fuck do you think of yourself? You," "Shut up." He roared, cutting my words. He grabbed my wrist again and dragged me to the sofa. He sat down and then, with a swift motion he yanked me down and bent me over his lap. He pinned me against the sofa by pressing his hand on my back and locked my legs between his. What is he doing? Chills rushed down my spine.

“Luna Selene is gone,” he said. “Until she is found, the pack must not panic. Morale must not break. Our enemies must not sense weakness.” “I—I understand.” His eyes darkened. “No. You don’t.” He studied my face like he was memorising it. “You will take her place.” The world tilted. “What?” “You will act as Luna.” My breath stuttered. “That’s impossible. I I’m just—” “A substitute,” he finished. “Exactly.” My chest tightened. I was no one here. An omega. A giirl; who avoided being noticed. “I can’t do that,” I whispered. “Yes,” he murmured, stepping closer, voice dangerous silk. “You can. And you will. I will protect you,” he added softly. “But from this moment on, you belong to me.” Aria has always lived in the shadows — unnoticed and unremarkable, surviving in a world that rewards power and punishes weakness. But now she is pulled from obscurity and thrust into the Alpha’s world, forced to stand in as the mate for a woman who disappeared, a role she never asked for and cannot refuse. Kieran, the Alpha of Crescent Stone, searches tirelessly for the woman he believes is his fated mate. Aria is meant to be nothing more than a placeholder, a lie to protect the pack from panic. Yet the closer she stands to him, the more his control falters, and the more the Moon seems determined to bend fate in her favour In a world of rival packs, buried secrets, and whispered prophecies, Aria’s presence sets events in motion no one could have predicted. One girl, a stand-in for a missing Luna, may hold the key to unravelling a legacy of loyalty, betrayal, and love — whether the packs survive it, or fall, remains to be seen.

"If you can't satisfy me with your mouth, then you'll have to satisfy me some other way." In one swift motion, he tore off her flimsy top and skirt, tossing the shredded fabric aside. The implications of his actions became quite clear to Visenya. "Please, let me try again... with my mouth. I believe I can..." "Quiet!" Lucian's voice reverberated off the walls of his bedchamber, instantly silencing her. This was not the way she had envisioned her first time. She had imagined passionate kisses and tender caresses from a man who loved and cherished her. But Lucian was not capable of love, and he certainly didn't cherish her. Instead, she was cursed with a mate consumed by vengeance, and wanted nothing more than to watch her suffer. ——— Ten years had passed since dragons ruled over the world, and Visenya had taken her rightful place as the Lycan Queen. Vampires were forced into the shadows, as hunting and enslaving humans became punishable by death. Finally, the world found peace. However, everything changed when Dragon Lord Lucian emerged from his induced slumber, only to discover the annihilation of his entire race at the hands of Visenya's father. Stripped of her kingdom, Visenya was condemned to a life of servitude as Lucian's slave. The cruelest twist of fate awaited her when she learned that her long-awaited mate was none other than the vengeful Dragon Lord himself. Consumed by their mutual hatred, will they be able to resist the powerful bond between mates? Or will Lucian push Visenya to her limits, only to regret it in the end? WARNING: This story may contain content that some may find disturbing.

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.

+++✦+++ She looked up at me with those soft, damn eyes. I stepped in closer, my hand lifting before I even thought it through, and I brushed the tips of my fingers against her cheek. Warm. Delicate. Curious. I watched her mouth part slightly, her lashes lowering just a bit. "Can I kiss you?" I heard myself say. It surprised me. I don’t ask. I take. But she wasn’t like anyone else. With her, I found myself wanting permission...wanting her to want me back. She blinked, caught off guard, but something in her softened. And after a breath, she slowly nodded. I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers in a gentle and slow motion, like I was trying to memorize her taste, savoring the moment. But, that one kiss was enough to set my nerves on edge. I pulled back slightly, watching the way her cheeks turned pink, her eyes wide, her lips still parted like she hadn’t expected it to feel like that. And fuck, I hadn’t either. I leaned in again, but paused when I realized she was leaning toward me too, unconsciously. She didn’t even realize she wanted more. And this time, I didn’t ask. +++✦+++ In a city plagued by crime and violence, a young woman fights to stay hidden from her sadistic stepfather and his ruthless gang. In her journey to uncover the truth about her forgotten past, she crosses paths with a dangerous and mysterious stranger in the most unexpected manner. Together, they embrace their twisted fate by striking a deal and altering their lives through a tale of romance and mystery. +++✦+++ ✦ 𝐷𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛. ✦ +++✦+++

In the Sinclair pack, I had always been different. Years ago, my grandfather saved the Elder’s life. To repay that debt, the Elder promised that one of his grandsons would become my mate. In my first life, on the night of the Blood Moon, he asked me, “Evelyn, who will you choose?” Blushing, I pointed to the brightest star of the tribe, Andrew Sinclair. But after our wedding, he kept me at a distance. I was confused—until one night, I opened the wrong door. Andrew was on one knee, clutching my cousin Clara’s portrait as if it were his lifeline. His body moved in a way that made my heart twist. My world collapsed. He had never loved me. His heart—his desire—had always belonged to her. Darkness swallowed me, body and soul. My husband lied to me and betrayed the oath we had sworn to the Moon Goddess. The cruel truth broke me, and sickness followed. I died with his child inside me—alone. But the moon gave me another chance. I woke again on that same night. The Elder smiled down at me. Four portraits lay before him. “Evelyn, tonight is your twenty-first rite. Who will you choose?” “You’ve always chased Andrew,” he said kindly. “It must be him—” “No!” The hall fell silent. “Grandfather… I don’t want Andrew.” In panic, I snatched a portrait. “I want him!” The boy on the page wore black. His skin was pale, his lips curved in a mad, crooked smile. William Sinclair. The sick wolf. The one everyone mocked. But I remembered how he had tried to help me find a good doctor. He was the only one who had cared about me when I was dying. And yes—this time, I chose him.

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

She stood in the driveway watching the ambulance pull out. Feeling more alone than ever, tears streamed down Tatiana's face. Her father looked so weak and human. Looking back at the house, She could not go in. She could smell sickness inside. Blinded by tears, she made a run for the forest. Shedding her clothes under a rock before crashing in deeper. The forest around her was a blur. What if her father never came back? She would have no one. What had she done to the Moon Goddess to be forsaken? Her fear switched to anger, and she pushed forward faster and faster. Talia's muscles burned, but she kept running. As her wolf finally entered a clearing, her fur stood on end. On the other side of the clearing stood a sizeable sandy-colored wolf with amber eyes fixed on her. His ears perked up, and his head cocked to the side. Staring at each other from across the field, Tia could not take her eyes off him. She had never been this close to another wolf, and he was beautiful. Wobbling slightly, Tatiana realized she better move to the cover of the trees. As she turned, she heard an earth-shattering snap, and pain rolled up her left leg. She collapsed and looked down at her leg. It was caught in a trap. Her white fur turning red as blood seeped from the wound. Forgetting about the other wolf, she let out a tortured howl. Stabbing at the trap with her free paw, she whimpered and whined in agony. Her head rolled back as the pain threatened to render her unconscious. It was then that she noticed the wolf again. He had moved across the clearing and was now standing above her, and this time he was not alone.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.