Mage Hand Novels & Stories

He took her semi- hair and tucked it behind her so he could rub her soft neck. She felt his warm hand on her neck and she closed her eyes, leaning against him in satisfaction. She could feel the hard length of him which means he had been thinking of touching her for a long time. She smiled at the thought. His hand slid down her which was covered in a tiny fabric of a blue bathrobe. The two mounds on her chest responded with an electric reaction, which made them stand on guard. Zeidan does know how to dig out her feelings and play with them. "Mmh." She and smiled which stirred a reaction from Zeidan. In a swoon, he carried her in his arms and placed her gently on the bed, not forgetting to strip himself of the black shirt he had on.

Betrayed by the man she loved the most, dejected, scoffed at and emotionally exhausted, Emily has nothing else to live for until her brothers show up like knights in shining armour. What will she do when she has all her persecutors on the palm of her hand?

After being betrayed by her boyfriend and evil step sister, she died by the hand of her step mother's assassin. However, she had a second chance at life. A chance to right the wrongs. A chance to revenge on those who hurt her. They were all going to pay!

Ten years ago, he was forced to escape from a rich and powerful family. From then on, he drifted away like an ant, and everyone could bully him. Until that day, he dialed the familiar yet strange number. If you hold my hand, I will make you proud...

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

“No! Please, Santiago--” I whimpered, as his hand seized my wrist with an iron grip, yanking me forward, dragging me effortlessly toward the chair he had pulled into the center of the room the night before. The symbol of my humiliation. He stopped right in front of the chair, spinning me around, facing him. "You want me to be your monster, mi ángel?" His hand grabbed my throat, tilting my chin up until my eyes locked with his dark gaze. I flinched from the sudden movement. "Cause I’ll be your favorite monster — just say the word, cariño." Santiago’s face hovered only inches from mine. His lips so close, I could taste the sweetness of his breath — once making butterflies take flight in my stomach, now curdling my insides into a cold, suffocating fear. Slowly, his free hand rose toward my face. I held my breath. His touch was deceptively soft and gentle, caressing my cheek. His thumb lingered against my lips, tracing them slowly, his eyes fixed there as he spoke — his voice soft, yet heavy with menace. "Divorce is not an option, mi amor. We took a vow five years ago. Remember?" He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, catching every flicker of fear before he delivered his last words like a verdict: "Till death do us part."

[TRIGGER WARNING: Reader's Discretion Is Advised. This book contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, dark romantic elements, and strong language. It is intended for adult audiences(18+). Proceed with caution.] He placed a hand on my leg, and my breath caught. His hand slowly began stroking my thigh, sending a strange wave of sensation through my body. My fingers tightened against my dress as my pulse quickened. His hand moved slowly higher, sliding deeper into my thigh. My body stiffened as his fingers brushed against my panties. My heart pounded loudly in my chest. Is Master doing what I think he’s going to do? I thought, panic slowly rising inside me. He leaned slightly closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Try not to moan,” he whispered, my breath hitched. I tried my best to stay still, forcing myself to keep my expression calm as the men around the table continued their conversation. But under the table, his fingers kept teasing the fabric of my panties. My breathing grew uneven, then his fingers suddenly slipped inside. A small cough escaped my lips as my body jerked slightly from the sudden sensation. Several heads turned toward me. “Are you okay, Mrs. Enzo?” one of them asked with concern. My face burned with embarrassment. “Is something wrong? Did you choke on the food?” another man asked. “I think she choked on the food,” Enzo said calmly as he looked at me, his eyes held a warning.

"Let's live in together ..." She said those words solemnly in her flat facial expression like reading a formal report. “WHATTT???” The young man blinked his eyes in disbelief several times at the woman in front of him as if she has gone insane. But the firm look on her eyes showed him that she was serious with what she just said before. “I like this apartment. You also like it, right?” “Let’s live in together so we can share the rental fee. After 1 year, we can decide whether we want to extend here or not?” The woman glanced at him once again. Requesting for an answer from his mouth. "How?" The young man turned his head away. He seems irk with this weird request but in other hand, he should admit that everything that she said was makes sense too. Especially for sharing the rental fee. It’s a win - win solution! He’s totally broke! And he is in an urge for finding a new place to stay now! "OK. Deal… ” The two of them shook hands as an agreement. "But I also have a request." The young man said those words while his hand still holding her hand warmly. He stared at her and forming a smile on his face seductively. Arissa frowned and raised her eyebrows confusedly. "What is it?" "You can't fall in love with me ..." She sneered out and a mocking smile curved on her face shortly. "No worries. I'm an asexual after all…. ”

On the day of the mating ceremony, a crazed witch bursts in and points straight at me, shrieking, "Six years later, your Alpha will betray you!" Troy Hudson, my soon-to-be mate, turns livid. He swats the purple-glowing crystal ball from her hand, shattering it on the floor. "Nonsense! Estelle is my fated mate! I'll only ever love her in this lifetime!" After that, he becomes even more devoted to me. At the Moon Goddess' altar, he drapes the Luna shawl over my shoulders. He marks me with his scent so the entire pack knows I belong to him. Every full moon, he deepens the mark on my neck, whispering that I am his forever. I believe his love is unbreakable until our sixth anniversary. A box waits at our front door. Inside lies a pair of lace panties and a photograph. In the photo, Troy is pressed over his foster sister, Rue Youngblood, the wolf tattoo on his body glowing faintly. His hand grips her waist, his eyes burning with the same heat I've dreamed of a million times. And Rue? She's wearing that same pair of panties. On the back of the photo, written in ink as red as blood, is a line of pure provocation. "The Alpha's heart may belong to you, but his body belongs to me." Agony ripped through my chest, yet not a single tear fell. Instead, I rest my hand on my belly and quietly send word to the Witch Association. "I accept your invitation. Please help me vanish."

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.