Novel & Cerita Markus X Connor

“Fuck. Fuck, shit and bollocks.” Concertinaed into the back of the Jag, my car was totalled. The Jag didn’t fare much better. I prised the driver’s door open, my palms clammy and my heart racing. In my wrecked car, Bella wailed, Harry chanted shit and bollocks and Isaac sat dazed, rubbing his neck. I walked to the side of the Jag. A giant man, no a God, definitely a God, stepped out of the expensive car. A well-fitted, high-quality suit covered his broad, muscular frame. His square shoulders were tight, his lush, soft lips pulled into a hard line. He examined the back of his car, shaking his head before locking his ice-blue eyes on me. My pussy clenched. I dug my nails into my fist, fighting

Connor Continued the Conversation, so smoothly that you'd think nothing happened in the room. "Don't you dare call me Marcus!" His twin yelled, standing so quickly that the chair hit and fell the maid walking behind him with a broom to sweep the glass that shattered on the floor, "Yes, you're Marcus, because you're so evil and filthy, no one's ever gonna like you, you're the evil twin, and you're evil!" Connor Slammed his hands on the table, and got up from his seat as well.

So, I go with that. "Markus! Get in here!" Markus? He's here? Markus is a very good-looking man. His defined features and perfected hair, make him practically irresistible. Markus can't be more than three years older than Alpha Hughes. Markus gets close to my face, taking in all of me. "You're very beautiful. No wonder Jack has you under strict lockdown. Any man would want to get with you." Markus says. I don't take that as a compliment. I just stare him in the eyes.

What was left of his face was frozen in something between agony and shock. He was in pain, but he was refusing to die. I knew that very well. For a wolf to fight until he took his last breath. He could make it easier for himself, but he did not want to. He was choosing to live in agony and die in pain. But that wasn’t what made me stop cold. It wasn't what made me stop my tracks completely as I looked him dead in the eye, well, if I could call them eyes at this point. It was the mark carved into his chest, deep, deliberate, unmistakable.

He knew who this was, violating his woman, abusing and torturing her for over two months. “Conor,” he says through gritted teeth and the man on the screen stops his thrusts into Devyn. He turns to the screen and removed his mask, grinning and lifting Devyn up and throwing her to the ground before cutting the call. Dimitri looks at him with surprise, “You knew who that was?” he asks incredulously and Kieran turns on his heel, “My brother Conor, the one who was selling me out to Marcos Brago, he's currently excommunicated from Manhattan. Let’s go, I think I know where this is headed.” He says and Dimitri nods, leading the way. He couldn’t help but feel Dimitri’s eyes on him all the way, and ev

Mark smiled, the image of her naked in the shower immediately popping into his head, but he wasn't really sure he wanted to talk about her to some random guy who takes whisky in his coffee at eleven in the morning. "So what's the hampden then?" Connor asked as he made his way around the bar to join Mark. "The what?" "The hampden? Hampden roar? Score?" "Sorry," Mark said. "What?" Connor limped over and sat down on the bar stool next to Mark. "What's the score then? Where's the profiles?" "Oh. Here." He opened the binder up and put it between them on the desk. Connor looked at the first one, then ripped it straight out and put it face down on the bar to one side. "Wank."

His wife was a blonde woman with diamonds on her fingers who barely looked at anyone else. Marcus was different. Fit. Muscular. Probably in his late forties, but his body told a different story. Broad shoulders. A jaw that could cut glass and eyes that didn't ask for permission. He found me by the pool later that evening. Connor was inside, nursing a whiskey and pretending this was all normal. "You look lost," Marcus said. "Just figuring out the rules," I replied. He smiled. Slow. Confident. "There are no rules. That's the point."

“Connor's expecting us. He's clearing out his roommate for the night so we can talk privately.” “Can we trust him?” Marcus asks, ever cautious. “He has no love for my father.” Warren pockets his phone. “And he owes me several favors. So yes, we can trust him.” We take the stairs to the third floor. Connor is waiting by his apartment door— a lanky wolf with shaggy brown hair and cautious eyes. He nods at Warren, then looks at the rest of us with barely concealed nervousness. “You're really doing this?” he asks quietly. “Going against Alpha Rowan?”

Connor waited for Mark to hang up, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. “You need to keep it together,” Mark said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I get it, you’re pissed. But she’s made her choice. She loves him. He’s, her husband. And this is the second time someone’s tried to take him out. Hell, she took a bullet for him the first time.” Connor let out a sharp breath. “She nearly died, Mark. I’m stepping in. I’ll handle it. The guy’s a walking target, too many enemies.”

“You are a marquees, and it’s in your hand to be protecting everyone around you—especially Connor, who is needing it in the future.” Lincoln doesn’t want him to be called Marquees when he is not protecting everyone around. “I am not a native in France, but the lords appointed me to do so with you all these years, Francisco. Let’s give Connor some time to think about it, but we must tell him the truth right away before it’s too late for our peace of mind.” Francisco totally agreed with his decision. Lincoln smiles at him and continues their naked bath. CONNOR CARTER VOZINELIK tries to eat with Paul, who is sleeping again because of the stinging pain in his back due to his brother’s doing.