Quotes About Crying

I was Alpha Damian Jones' fated mate. At the mating ceremony, he had made a Blood Moon vow in front of my pack. He had claimed that I, Eva Lopez, would be his one and only Luna in this lifetime. It had been the happiest moment in my life. Seven years had passed since then, and yet I was still a virgin—an untouched Luna who had yet to be marked by her Alpha. Still, I was willing to live my life like this. But not long ago, Damian returned from the battlefield with a she-wolf by his side. She was Chloe Lane, the daughter of the Bloodfang pack's Alpha. He told me that she was here as a guest and that I should take good care of her. I treated Chloe like a little sister of mine and took great care of her. That was, until I decided to visit her with a glass of warm milk one night. When I reached her room, I heard suppressed, breathless moans coming from inside the room. Next, I heard Damian's husky voice. "Why are you crying?" he asked. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

A comedy of errors, that offers second chances for first love in this BDSM Mafia, Reverse Harem Romance. In that moment of embarrassment, fear and dread, I do the unthinkable…….. I jump into the black clad stranger's arms, and kiss him with all the drama of a soap opera. Yes, I meant it to be for show to avoid my stalker, but .....Let’s just say it’s not all fake when I practically swoon like the well-to-do British lady I’m impersonating. “Renfield tricked me,” I pant, pointing my shaking finger at the obnoxious blonde man, literally crying, this is all so hysterical to him. “Dracula's spell is too powerful. I can't fight it, go! Go find Van Helsing!" How did this happen? Nicky! That’s right, this is all my orphan brother, Roman Nikolai Cross’ fault! Ever since that tweedle twap jerk named me after the bad luck stray cat outside our orphanage, there is no end to the comedy of errors that is my life. I was hoping to avoid the so tragic it’s funny or so funny it’s tragic stigma with my second chance on life, but no such luck with his latest shenanigans.

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

Oh yeah! Oh Brandon!" Alex screams as I suck her clit into my mouth and gently tap it with my tongue. Sliding a finger into her pussy, I piston it in and out while I devour her clit with my mouth. Alex is rocking all over the couch now, moaning and crying words of encouragement. "Oh! Oh! Just like that! Oh yeah! Oh Fuck!" she pants, as she grabs my hair and humps her pussy against my face. ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This is a filthy, no-limits collection of taboo erotic. Step siblings, step-daddies, group play, rough dominance, lesbian heat, orgies, and kinks that would make the devil blush. If that scares you… keep scrolling. Still here? Good. You’re exactly who this is for. This isn’t romance with a side of spice. This is pure, addictive, taboo sex—short, interconnected stories that keep getting darker, wetter, and more forbidden. This story pushes limits, shatters morals, and explores the kind of desire people pretend they don’t fantasize about. The first hit is free. The rest will cost you coins—and maybe your morals. If you’re ready for sin without apology… enter.

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

The hospital's latest intern, Lindsey Clark, is very pretty, but she's a total idiot as well. When my mom came to the hospital for a prescription, she swapped the vitamin C for potassium supplements, which were known to be very poisonous if misused. Mom, who was fresh out of surgery, suffered from heavy bleeding right after taking the medication. She died on the same night. Before I could hold Lindsey responsible for Mom's death, the latter quickly piped up with teary eyes, "I'm so sorry, Dr. Monroe! I just thought that potassium supplements can help your mother heal faster…" Even Michael Jones, my husband, who was the hospital director, took her side. "Your mom only had her idiocy to blame! She died because she took the wrong medication! How dare you drag Lindsey into this!" I was so furious that my cardiac arrest was triggered on the spot. Soon, I was sent into the operating room. Lindsey said she wanted to redeem herself by taking on the post as Michael's assistant in the surgery. But her hands kept trembling even when she tried to thread the suture needle. In the end, she took off her mask and picked up the suture with her teeth. Just like that, she used her saliva to wet the suture end. One day later, I died in the ICU due to a case of severe infection. When my spirit was about to fade away, I heard Lindsey crying sadly. "If it wasn't for my idiocy, Dr. Monroe wouldn't have died!" Michael just patted her dotingly on the head in return. "Having medical risks in a surgical operation is completely normal. You're still young, so stop blaming yourself already." Mom and I were cremated instantly, seeing as Michael intended to cover up our deaths. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Lindsey has just gotten recruited by the hospital.

My wife and I slept in separate beds for over three years. Then on our wedding anniversary, she suddenly tried to win me over. She climbed into my bed and pulled out all the stops, trying to get me to sleep with her. I stayed calm and collected. When our son started crying, I used it as an excuse to escape to his room, where I stayed all night. Vivian Hartley spent the entire night knocking on the door. The next morning, she acted sweet and gentle, graciously making me breakfast as if nothing had happened. She even tried to hand over her salary card. When my mother-in-law heard about this, she exploded at her daughter. "You pathetic fool! People need some self-respect! If you can't stand up for yourself, just get a divorce already!" Yet Vivian claimed her feelings for me ran so deep that the heavens themselves could vouch for her sincerity. She even defied her own mother. Our relatives and friends looked at us with envy. But my son and I continued to give her the cold shoulder. Finally, Vivian turned to social media for help. "Three years ago, I was busy with work. My husband and I had completely different schedules. I was afraid it would affect my performance at work, so I suggested we sleep in separate rooms. "Now our child is older, and I've swallowed my pride to try to fix things, but my husband won't even touch me." Someone in the comments gave her some advice: install hidden cameras around the house. "We can't just take your word for it. Record everything so we can see what's really going on. Plus, if things actually end in divorce, at least you'll have built up your social media following. It won't be a total loss." Vivian had no idea I was watching from among her followers.

There was an open secret among upper-class society. The wealthy man, Brandon Anderson, loved his wife to death. However, he was addicted to cheating on her. He would give everything those young women wanted from him, but he had one strict rule for them: not to expose anything to his wife. Everyone knew that he had loved his wife for ten years, and he had put in a lot of effort to marry her. He had once said that if his wife died, he would not survive. However, this latest mistress did not follow his instruction. She came to me because he doted on her. She sent me a lot of photos of condoms and his sleeping face. “Ms. Lowe, this brand is too good. I was screaming the whole night. Has Mr. Anderson ever used that with you?” It was that moment that I realized the young man who was infatuated with me had given his heart to me, but his body to other people. When I saw the photos, I cried so hard that I had no more tears. Then, I drafted a divorce agreement and signed it. I turned around and saw Brandon, seventeen again, crying as he stared at me.