Novel & Cerita Pastors Eat Pwussy Too

So what if you're formidable or filthy rich? Don't you dare get cocky with me. I'm Cassian York. I can save your life, and I can end it, too!

While I was nine months pregnant, the apple of my husband’s eye moved into our house. Whenever she saw me, she would make a sad face. My husband was sure that I was flaunting my pregnancy to make her angry. “Rachel is frail, and she can’t get pregnant, yet you’re walking around making her upset?! Do I seriously have to teach you a lesson?!” He ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the attic that had not been in use for a long time and told them not to give me food. I pleaded for mercy and told him that the ultrasound scan showed that the twin babies were too big. I told him that the doctor had claimed that I had to be hospitalized while I waited for my delivery. But he laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as ice. “You’re still three days away from your delivery date! Enough with the pitiful act! Repent while you’re in the attic! This is what you get for making Rachel upset!” The contractions hurt so much that I clenched my fists to the point that my nails broke, but no one unlocked the door to the attic. My piercing screams echoed in the attic for a long time until my whole body was soaked in blood, and one of my babies was stuck between my bloody legs. Three days later, my husband ate his breakfast that was not up to his taste and said, “Have Jane make breakfast for me, then have her apologize to Rachel with a gift. If she’s sincere enough, I’ll send her to the hospital to deliver the babies.” But no one dared go up to the attic because the blood that flowed down from it had already reached the second step of the stairs.

After Edwin’s first love arrived, I left his home without telling anyone. The first week after I left, he didn't care at all. He spent the week doting on her first love, taking her to social gatherings, making people gossip about me being left. The second week after I left, his friends began placing bets on whether I would come back crawling or scheme against Rose and cry for attention. Edwin heard them making jokes about me, and he actually laughed, keeping Rose on his lap. The third week after I left, he tracked me down and barged into my door. “Stop all this drama, Victoria.” He spat, “Rose’s heart is delicate. Your heart is the right match for her. Donate your heart to her, and I’ll marry you.” But what he expected from me, a long confrontation or an ocean of tears, he didn't get at all. “Okay,” I replied, my voice as calm as the ocean. “When is the surgery’s date?” Edwin froze at his place. What he didn't know was that I was not the Victoria he remembered. I had been transported into his world after an accident, and only by fulfilling his hundred wishes could I finally return to my own. And, this was his hundredth wish!

One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement. "Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do." Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before. She was also the one who caused my miscarriage. I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why. He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through. "I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is. "Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now." So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him. Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function. He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.

On the night of our anniversary, I had prepared a new set of lingerie for my Mafia husband Joey, but he had prepared divorce papers for me instead. A Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth, a look of pure entitlement on his face. "Adriana, we need to divorce. Vivian's father is a capo. If I marry her, my future's set." "Look, sweetheart, you're just a broken family's leftover daughter. You should be grateful I kept you around this long." "Once I have the family ring, maybe I'll throw you a few scraps, let you be my little side piece." Everyone expected the daughter of a fallen family to step aside for his ambition, to be the loyal dog I'd been for the past seven years. But that night, I made a deal with the devil. I accepted a match arranged by my family and married the true king of New York's underworld. I vanished from Joey's world completely. Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

That night was supposed to belong to Mia. She had spent a month practicing for her first piano recital. I had cooked all afternoon, set the table, and helped her into the pale blue dress Luca loved. She stood beside the piano, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling with excitement. Then Luca's phone rang. Vivienne was spiraling again. After Luca's older brother died, his widow never really came back from it. On her worst nights, she forgot the difference between the dead husband she had lost and the brother-in-law who kept showing up to save her. And Luca always showed up. Every time Vivienne broke, he left us behind. Every time he came home, he brought apologies, pretty gifts, and promises for next time. And every time, I believed him. Until that night. Before he could make another excuse, I placed the divorce papers in front of him. He signed without reading them, then touched my shoulder like he was the one being generous. "When this is over, I'll make it up to you," he said. "You, me, and Mia. The Maldives. No calls. No interruptions." Then he kissed our daughter's hair and walked out before she played a single note. What Luca didn't know was that Mia's passport was already packed. So was the little suitcase under her bed. I was done waiting for a man who only loved us when no one else needed him. This time, he could come home to an empty house.

This is a story about a husband and his ex-wife. It is about their past, present, and future. What will happen when they cross their path again? Will they ever get back together again? It hurts when two people are separated even before giving each other a chance because of a third party and misunderstanding. Still, nothing is more beautiful than when they come back together and move forward in life by leaving their past behind. It is okay to not forget about the past, but it is important to forgive and give a second chance to each other and life. It is an inevitable love story of two individuals who fall in love and get past their divorce, and are with each other again.

"I love you..." His pitch increases as rage joins in, but still, he manages to retain gentility in his voice. "...but that doesn't mean I can't slit your throat, peanut!... DON'T ANGER ME." Blood drips down my wrist as his blue eyes tore me down, I could feel my fragile, lean wrist trapped within his muscular grip. As he screamed, my heart skipped into my mouth, memories filled my head, memories on how I willingly walked into a trap set up by the devil himself. **** Cupid strikes yet again, boring a deadly arrow in her chest... Krystal Gomez begins a pursuit. Little does she know that soon, she'll become his prey.

I come home and find my husband's female best friend, Winona Langdon, who claims to be one of the guys, sleeping in my bed. I bring up divorce with Lucas Gardner for the 99th time. This time, he finally snaps. "Natania Simmon, are you done making a scene? Are you throwing a tantrum again just because Winona stayed over at our place and slept in our bed?" I answer calmly, "That's right." His friends throw their arms around his shoulders and chime in sarcastically, "Don't take it to heart, Lucas. Women get jealous easily. Oh, how I miss the days when we all slept under the same covers together." Lucas smiles bitterly and says, "When you guys get married in the future, remember this—you can't afford to mess with jealous women. Still, there's no helping it. Natania just loves me too much. She's trying to scare me by throwing divorce around. "Listen. In less than three days, she'll come crawling back to me." The derisive smirk playing on my lips deepens. In our seven years of marriage, Winona stays at my house whenever she pleases. I watch with my own eyes as Lucas and Winona grow increasingly inappropriate in their interactions. They reach into each other's pants. They also share the same straw and wash each other's underwear. And now... She even sleeps in my bed! These last seven years were not love. I was just foolishly blind. Right in front of everyone, I dial a number and say, "Dad, I'm done messing around out here. Your heiress is ready to come home."

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ This book includes themes of homophobia, including discriminatory language and behavior. These elements are included to reflect certain real-world attitudes and experiences, but they do not reflect the views of the author. Reader discretion is advised. If you find such content distressing, please take care as you proceed. — Gunner took the job thinking it would be easy: keep an eye on the Floros’ only son while his parents were out of the country for a business trip. Follow and carry out the rules the Floros' had given him—watch the kid, keep him out of trouble, and collect a generous paycheck. But Layland Floros is anything but a kid. Beautiful, bold, and entirely too provocative for his own good, Layland isn’t interested in being watched. With a bratty attitude that dares Gunner to break every boundary he’s set for himself when he's on the job, Layland turns a simple assignment into something far more dangerous. Gunner's never been with a man. Never even thought about it—until Layland. Now, every moment in that house is thick with tension, with heat that hums just beneath the surface. The more Gunner tries to keep things professional, the harder it becomes to ignore what he was really feeling towards the young man. Soon, duty gives way to desire, and Gunner finds himself crossing lines he swore he wouldn’t. But when the chemistry between them explodes into something real and raw, he’ll have to face the truth: babysitting Layland and carrying out the young man's parents' rules was never the hard part. Staying away from him is. And if Layland's parents find out what really happened behind the closed doors of their home, Gunner could lose more than just the job.