Love Room Novels & Stories

They're all thanks to the wild, all-nighters in bed. Oh well, not just in bed though. Ever since we came back from the Maldives, Liam and I have been making love in every corner of our house. Our bedroom, the kitchen, the library, the wine cellar, the gardens. This is even wilder than the sex marathon in Paris.

I placed my hand on his and gently stroked his face with the other. “You’re such an idiot, bro. Why didn’t you check the cameras before you went into the room? Sometimes you can be frustrating but, I love you, bro. I may not have told you enough in the short period of time that I have known you but, I do, and I won’t forget our time together.” I leaned down to kiss his cheek. “You were the best big bro that I could ever wish for. Jaime is dead. I shot him but it didn’t make me feel better. It didn’t bring you back to me. What am I going to do? I’m getting married tomorrow. You were supposed to be there to offer me advice and make jokes at the dinner,” tears fell again but, this time they fel

And I don't think it's a problem, everyone must be sleeping right now so we have enough time to love each other. I pulled down her kilt, opening her breast area she wasn't wearing a bra that's a good thing, and to be honest, they are looking huge than the last time we had in the shower but last time I haven't taken her completely and I won't leave a single opportunity to fuck/love her hard this time.

With Much Love. Elvira🤍

Hazel held his heavy gaze, completely paralyzed by the raw, unapologetic boundaries he was setting. The rules were incredibly harsh. But as she stood there in the dark, a strange, profound sense of relief washed over her. Love? She was terrified of love. Love had completely destroyed her. She had loved Liam with every single fiber of her being for five years, and all it had given her was a broken life and a hollow, aching chest. She never wanted to feel that kind of vulnerability ever again. She didn't want romance. She wanted exactly what he was offering—a dark, transactional escape.

Tom opened his mouth to start making excuses...and came up with nothing. What the hell could you come up with? Here it is, his text message on the topic “overslept out of pity” - nowhere more frank. “It’s true… I love her…” Add - and she me, Tom did not dare, although he did not raise his hand to erase that very short word. Lou gripped the phone in his long fingers until his knuckles turned white. - You love ... yeah ... And you fuck with her. Wonderful. And how long?

The Story Begins… There was a time in the past when werewolves and witches had interceptions among each other in the same land. However, a mutual hatred had emerged from a different angle of the world as to who was the greatest. This caused a huge unsettlement yet it was not so in San Antonio, they interrelated but they did not interbreed, as it was seen as an abomination. Queen Lorelai held a candle in his hand and walked to her secret room while chanting some words. When she got there, she lightened up a mini fire which she fueled with a chicken's intestine.

The name of the rooms was indeed lame, even the prostitutes cringed at the name, but they dared not voice their protest because it was indeed their boss who had the right to do anything in the place she owned. Before going to one of the Love Rooms upstairs, Vivian needed to prepare herself in the dressing room. She heard from her boss that her customer would be coming to Love Room number 13 in less than an hour, and that was why she was busy preparing herself now. Why did it have to be number 13? Even if Vivian wasn't the type to believe in lucky and unlucky numbers, she somehow had a bad feeling about the number of the

Hot Chapters

I'm a Prostitute, Not a Substitute 79. MELT HIS COLD FACADEI'm a Prostitute, Not a Substitute 78. A BAD MOTHERI'm a Prostitute, Not a Substitute 74. A CUP OF COFFEE

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