Quotes About Pink Colour

Looking up I see a boy I had never seen before, a cocky smirk graced his features. "Here you go" he said handing me the pencil I just nodded my head confused as to where he came from since the hallway was dead silent just moments before. Looking over his shoulder I see six other guy's watching the situation. Looking them all up and down I can't deny that their all definitely attractive. Looking back at the guy infront of me I look into his brown eyes a light spark of pink shinning in them. I smiled slightly not being able to find my voice so I begin nodding my head a little in thanks. Turning to walk away I begin to exit the hallway "what no thank you?" a voice called out causing me to turn around. Looking back I see the guy that handed me my pencil his arms lightly spread out with shock across his features. "Right, thanks" I started staring at him before looking at the other six as they all stared at me expectantly, at this moment I guess I really had no idea why. "Oh, right" I started causing them all to perk up "welcome to our hell hole new kids" I continued with a smirk opening my arms up, just like the guy did when he called out to me.

Prologue The arrogant prince Who is the arrogant prince ? Well that is no other person than Prince Asim Berlin , crowned prince of Alexandria City . 24 years of age 6 ft tall broad and huge , green hazel eyes, heart-shaped lip which is full and Pink , carly dark brown hair , intelligent and super smart, in essence a Greek god the only son to King Charon and queen Stella. Asim is every girl's wish even though he has an arrogant behavior he can't seem to chase them away he sees all women except his mother and fiance as sex toys and a typical play boy and a sex freak he always want everything to go his way no one can refuse his will, well except one crazy girl . Who is she? The pauper, Naunet Domero Naunet Domero , 21 years old, 4 ft tall ,slim and slender ,but with a domineering cleavage, full red lips, diamond blue eyes, long strawberry blonde hair ,a goddess to be precise and so beautiful. Many times it lead her to trouble ,at 18 she had up to 100 suitors but she rejected all of them this made her parents sad but they couldn't tell her because they were always in support of her decisions all she did was work, and sometimes cause trouble more like people always troubled her , especially jealous girls .

Julian Ashford, the golden boy of the city's elite, had his left leg broken by his father with a golf club -- all because of me, a scholarship student. He was stripped of his billion-dollar inheritance and cast out of the family. For three years, he dragged that ruined leg around an auto repair shop, doing backbreaking labor just to scrape together enough for my college tuition. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl alive -- that I'd brought the untouchable heir of a financial empire to his knees, made him willing to live on scraps in the worst part of town. Today was our three-year anniversary. I was carrying the freshly signed Holloway Group inheritance confirmation documents, ready to finally tell him my real identity and pull him out of this misery. I walked down the corridor of The Grand Pavilion, holding a box of vanilla shortbread -- his favorite. Through the half-open door of a private suite, Julian Ashford stood tall on two perfectly healthy legs, dressed in an immaculate tailored suit, sliding a rare pink diamond ring onto the finger of Victoria Sterling -- the city's most celebrated socialite. "Victoria, I used that scholarship girl as a shield to survive three years of my old man's relentless arranged marriage schemes. My body's completely untouched. You've always been the one I was going to marry." I looked down at my own hands, cracked and raw from the cold, and tore the inheritance documents to shreds.

On New Year’s Eve, I made a last-minute decision to get my claws done. The salon was packed, so I had to share a room. The moment I sat down, the woman beside me glanced at me with open disgust. “Get out. I’m allergic to poor people.” The attendant tried to smooth things over. “Ma’am, we’re fully booked today. Please—” But she cut her off coldly. “Do you know the pink diamond Sotheby’s auctioned on Christmas? Worth six hundred thousand.” “Today, I’m setting it into my claws.” She looked at me like I was filth. “With someone like her here, what if she swaps my diamond?” Sotheby’s? My hand froze over the magazine. She smirked and held it out. “Take a good look. Know the difference between you and me before you crawl away.” I glanced once. And recognized it instantly. That diamond… was mine. “I lost it recently,” I said calmly. “Interesting how it ended up with you.” She laughed. “Jealous? My mate gave it to me as a New Year gift.” “You wouldn’t even survive hearing his name.” I smiled faintly. “Try me.” She lifted her chin. “My mate is Kael.” My smile froze. What a coincidence. He’s my mate too. I raised my comm-stone and dialed the patrols. “Hello. I’d like to report a theft.”

A faint moan escaped her lips as Williams released her mouth and attacked her neck. He sucked on her his favorite spot making sure to leave a mark there just as how a wolf would leave a mark after he claim his mate.      "You are mine" He whispered as he moved away from her.    Raw frustrating was only want she could feel as Melissa opened her eyes to find herself in Williams's arms. Even when she feels like she hates him, she wants more of what only he can give her.    She still wants his lips on her and every other place it would be after there. She wants to wrap her legs around his waist and pull him closer, screaming his name as they climax in a rough ride of blissful pleasure.    "Let's make it a contract" Williams gave her the pen.     Just as if her brain had just started working, Melissa blinked. She stared widely at the pen than at Williams's face.   His lips look pink and inviting, his eyes still have that dark glitters it always has whenever he wants her. Even as he held the pen to her face, his eyes were not glued to hers, they were staring at her slightly swollen lips.     She sucked in her lower lips and blinked innocently.    "Fvck!!!" Williams groaned "You know what you do to me whenever you do that!" He smirked and lean closer to her "But let's make an agreement first".

"Hayden, you have been a bad boy have you not?" Vincenzo said to me as he unclasped his belt and drew it off his waist, his muscles flexing. "What do you mean-" "Turn around!" He demanded from me as he did so before I could do it. He wrapped the belt around my hands and tightened it. "Vincenzo?" I whisper yelled at him with a glare. "Get on your knees little prince and open your mouth for me. Daddy needs to punish you." "Why?" "Shut your mouth before I do it with my dick Hayden," he threatened me with an evil smirk. "You would not dare!" I snapped at him before letting out a gasp as he pulled his hardened cock out of his boxers, the cap of the monster pink and shiny with precum. "Oh little prince, I would dare," he said as he forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. "Good boy," he groaned as he slid his dick into my mouth, my wetness wrapping around his cock. "Ah, your mouth feels so good," he murmured. And then he began to move, his cock growing more inside of my mouth. ...... Hayden and Vincenzo clash in a battle of wits and strength. Though they are attracted just as much as they despise each other, they are drawn together in an intense and dangerous game. It takes two to tango. It takes two to play the dangerous game. And the winner takes all.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

"Why is a young girl like you destroying her kidneys and liver?", I heard that deep husky voice behind my ear and I froze on the seat. He was forbiddenly inches away from me and his breath was against the back of my neck. Who was he? Whoever he was. He had the guts and I wasn’t ready to tolerate nonsense. "You....." , My mouth fall open the moment I turned to look at the atranger who was behind my back. As unbelievable as it was, he was fucking hot. Just a glimpse of his dirty blonde spiky hair , a nice chiseled jawline , pink lips and eyes that had a mixture of dark blue and light grey made my mouth fall more open. Honestly l had never seen such eyes. l felt mesmerized , they were damn beautiful. He didn't look young , he was something like 45 to 50 but good lord he was so hot. Realizing that I was checking him out, a smirk appeared on his face. "Is there something a young beautiful girl like you, wants to forget so badly?." He whispered and I shuttered as I leaned back into his chest. Yes It was there. I want to let go of my past. But I didn't reply him. "I can let you......", "Go on, make me forget him" , l cut him off short in mid sentence. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Yes I was drunk. But just one night with a stranger.... in fact an experienced old man. It is not wrong. Is it?!

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.