Nfl Rush Zone Fanfiction

“I hate you.” His growl vibrates against my throat at my words. His mouth drags slowly along my skin, deliberate. Punishing. Claiming. My pulse betrays me. I want him to kiss me. Goddess— I need him to kiss me. I need him to do more than kiss me. But he doesn't. How he loves to toture me. He pulls back just enough to breathe against my lips. It takes every ounce of self control for me not to reach out and haul his face back unto my skin. It takes every ounce of self control for me not to start spouting out all the nasty things I need him to do to me. “Again,” he breathes against my lips. “Tell me how much you hate me.” “I hate you,” I rush out. “I hate you so fucking much.” “I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.” A dark sound leaves him. I fall in love with that sound. Immediately And then he’s kissing me. Like hatred and hunger are the same thing. And this time, he isn't stopping. ***** In the Eastern pack, power is currency. And Mia just became The New Alpha's favorite investment.

The city never slept , but I did probably to much. But it was the only place where I could tell myself what I was going through was just a dream . My therapist said the nightmares were trauma resurfacing , I called them what it was a curse something I’ve never been able to get out of my head , not since I was young , wolves with eyes like molten gold , the smell of the earth and pine , voices calling my name from the darkness . It something I’ve always tried to shake off but failed , I didn’t believe any of it… not until tonight . “ what’s happening to me “ i whispered “ your remembering ayla “ “ I’m the other half of you “ she said so gently , “ the part that’s been sleeping for to long , my name is nala we are the Moon Heir , the last silver wolf of our bloodline “ The light surged through me, and I screamed not from pain, but from release. Every part of me that had been silent for years was awake. And beneath it all, I felt him. Kael’s heartbeat, steady and fierce, calling to mine across the miles. The mate bond pulsed once — sharp, electric, undeniable. He’s coming for us, Nala murmured. He heard you. And even through the dizzying rush of magic, I smiled. “Then let him find me.”

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

Three years ago, I rescued the CEO of the Patton Group. That very night, he appeared at my door with his grandson and proposed marriage. I'd secretly loved the young man for seven long years, so I accepted it without hesitation. For three blissful years, Damian Patton showered me with affection so profound it sparked envy in everyone around us. But the illusion shattered when the Patton family's adopted daughter returned from abroad. I stumbled upon him cradling her tenderly and whispering words of devotion. "Grandpa won't hand over the company until Serena gives birth to an heir. But I don't care about inheritance anymore. I want to marry you now." Harriet Patton's lips curved into a sultry smile. "No rush, darling. I want you to marry me as the rightful heir to the Patton empire. Just promise me you won't fall for her." His eyes softened. "Seven years ago, you pulled me out of that fire. I swore then to love you forever." Those words crashed over me like an avalanche, burying my heart under a crushing weight of betrayal. His love for me had been all a lie. I was the one who had braved those flames to save him. It was not her.

I fell for Don Lorenzo Moretti the second I saw him. Hard. As a mafia princess, I wasn't supposed to chase anyone. But for him, I swallowed my pride and made him my mission. A year later, he finally had me, pinning me to the bed as he moved inside me. His eyes were pure fire, and in that mo ment, they saw only me. For ten years, we were electric. We fucked in five-star hotels all over the world. We just fit. I was his lucky charm at the poker table. I took shots for him until I bled from my stomach. I even took a bullet for him. Then came our engagement party. Lorenzo left me standing there alone. Said something "came up." I went back to our apartment, only to find him kissing my stepsister, Juliana. That’s when I knew. He had always loved her. I was just a stand-in. He tried to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked rush, promising a bigger, better party to make up for it. A laugh, cold and hollow, died in my throat. I turned my back on him, pulled out my phone, and called my mother in Sicily. "I'll marry into the Romano family."

******************COMPLETED BOOK***************************** This book is a standalone for story 2 from the book Wild Adventures. Readers should be warned, there are explicit scenes in the book you might not want to be reading. *****************Super Steamy and wildly erotic********** Denny started to caress her as she obeyed his orders.  She was wearing a red velvet dress with its length up to her mid-thighs. The fabric was soft to his touch but her smooth and aromatic skin added fuel to his excitement and urged him to knead her everywhere he could reach and touch. Her exposed skin was not too much and not too little. For Denny, what he could see was enough to tease him into finding out what beauty was hidden underneath her clothes. The service girl started moaning in pleasure, but her every move held coquetry that teased the aroused man even more. Her erotic reactions didn’t make him rush to finish this heavenly taste of delectations but made him want to enjoy teasing each other for a more explosive ending. "Do you like it...?" The man whispered. He was feeling so aroused beyond redemption, but he was also unconsciously concerned if she was feeling the same as him. "Yes, sir," she answered obediently with her face turning beet red in embarrassment and delight. Denny wanted to do more. He was aching to do more.... but he knew there were rules.

On the day of my wedding with my girlfriend, I was unexpectedly informed by the hotel that our ceremony had to be postponed by a couple of hours. With no time to notify relatives and friends of the change, I had to rush to the hotel entrance to intercept guests. Upon arriving, I was stopped at the door by security, who told me that a wedding was currently taking place inside. The host's voice could be heard as I saw my girlfriend, wearing a veil, smiling and extending her hand to a man who was half-kneeling. In the audience, all the bride's relatives who were supposed to attend our wedding were seated, clapping and cheering. The man on stage was her dream guy and also my current superior. Seeing me causing a commotion, my girlfriend warned me, "I'm just helping out. Alex is your superior. I'm also doing this to help you. Don't cause any trouble." Just helping out? I had booked the wedding venue, chosen the time, designed the wedding dress, and personally sent out the invitations. How could a wedding be rearranged so suddenly? I looked coldly at the ring box the man was holding. "It seems my taste is quite similar to my yours. If that's the case, this diamond ring is yours, including the wife." My girlfriend finally panicked.

There's an earthquake. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, abandons me to save Wendy Smith, his true love. I don't stop him. I let him go. Why? Because when he was faced with the same choice in my past life, he saved me because I was eight months pregnant. Meanwhile, Wendy remained trapped under the rubble. She ultimately died due to a lack of oxygen after the delayed rescue. Later, on the day I went into labor, my husband brought me to Wendy's grave. He watched me coldly as I collapsed on the ground from the searing pain. He ignored my pleas. "Does it hurt, Yelena? Wendy's pain was a thousand times worse when she was trapped under the rubble!" I stared at him in disbelief as he descended into insanity. "You were safe that night—you were in the safe triangle zone! Wendy would never have missed the best time for rescue if not for you using your pregnancy to threaten me! I want you to experience all the pain she went through!" He forced me down on my knees and bumped my head on the ground before Wendy's grave. He ignored the blood that flowed down my legs. Ultimately, I died after major blood loss from a difficult labor. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the earthquake happened. This time, neither I nor my child will wait for him.

Kyla Adams is a workaholic. I mean, who wouldn't be when you're working your dream job? She is one of the many writers for a startup business in North Carolina called "Clicked," where the focus is writing about hot gossip, new trends, and out of the ordinary experiences. Think of this social media app as an online magazine, where the workers are gossip hungry millennials and Gen Z'ers all trying to top one another. And the best part- Dakota Kramer; the hot young CEO at the top floor of the office building. Kyla is the job. She thrives on gossip and is a phenomenal writer, but lately her articles have been dryer than her dating life. After Dakota threatens to fire her if she doesn't step out of her comfort zone, Kyla and her friends drunkenly email Dakota an exciting new article proposal titled "EleDATE." What does the hell does this mean? Kyla must ride the elevator every morning, starting from floor 1 up to floor 50-the top floor- with a hand picked single guy from the office. The catch? She's blindfolded. She must rely on her instincts about the "bachelors" and the impressions they make during their limited time riding together- and they must remain anonymous. With over 100 employees in the building, 50 floors, and 20 single men willing to participate, this will sure make for an intriguing article and a literal make or break career moment. And let's face it... there's just something about elevators.