Novel & Cerita Rapunzel Flower Gleam And Glow Lyrics

WARNING : This book contains hot,slutty, dirty, wild sex.🔞 “Spread your legs as wide as you can, flower and let me inside you.” I sucked in a breath as he grabbed my hands and pinned them over my head. “Yes, Daddy.” “Good girl,” he whispered against my ear, his teeth grazing my skin before he slipped his thumb between my parted lips. “Suck.”His voice was a dark purr against my ear as his teeth sunk into the curve of my neck before he slid his thumb into my mouth. I closed my mouth around his finger, my tongue tracing him as he slammed hard into my pussy , his rough pace forcing a cry from me. My back arched helplessly and my body trembled under his control, until I was panting hard. His mouth claimed mine in a deep kiss as he whispered, “Mine. Every part of you is mine.” ** ** ** ** ** Eliana Ashcroft’s world shattered in a single night—her dreams and her whole life ripped away by betrayal. Now she’s broke, desperate, and clawing her way back. A job at Blackwell Enterprises is supposed to be her salvation until she walks into the office and meets the man behind the empire—Theodore Blackwell. Her best friend’s father. A walking sex god. Only this time, the way he looks at her is sinful and possessive. Soon the lines of professionalism blur into obsession. By day, Theodore is her ruthless billionaire boss. By night, he’s the man who ruins her body for any other man so hard she is dripping with his cum. When the truth comes out—when her best friend discovers what’s been happening behind those locked doors—Theodore will have to choose between the empire he built and the forbidden woman he can’t live without.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

I thought Christmas had already broken me. Betrayal, loss, and a miscarriage that shattered everything I’d built. So I did the only reckless thing a heart in ruins could do: closed my eyes, jabbed a finger at a map, and bought a ticket to wherever it landed. No plan. No hope. Just a wounded heart running from the wreckage. I wanted quiet. Snow. A place to breathe and heal. I found him instead. A man who feels too wild for this world, all heat and muscle and dark, hungry eyes. He kisses like he’s claiming something. Touches like he’s learning every secret my body holds. His strength borders on impossible. His presence, addictive. He calls me his naughty little Christmas gift. And every time he drags his mouth down my throat, I forget every reason I had to stay guarded. But the deeper I fall, the stranger things become. The room around him feels alive. The night listens when he speaks. His eyes flash with an animal glow that shouldn’t exist, and the sound he makes when he’s holding back, low, guttural, trembling the air between us doesn’t belong to any man. I should run. Ask questions. Save myself. But I’m far too gone. Even willing to be ruined by whatever he is. So I ignore the question whether I’m losing my mind, or whether the fear curling beneath the heat is real. And let him keep unwrapping me like the gift he thinks I am. Because whatever lives inside him…it’s the first thing that’s made me feel alive again.

His hand slid beneath my dress, fingers curling around my thighs with a possessive grip. "I always knew that scumbag couldn't treat you right," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his lips traced a slow path from my jaw to my neck. "Still can't figure out what you ever saw in him." I drew in a shaky breath as his hands moved higher, fingertips brushing the band of my panties, sending a jolt of heat through me. "Women like you are prizes, Sienna," he whispered against my lips, the words melting into my skin. My grip on his shirt tightened, knuckles white. "And prizes? They're meant to be fucking claimed. Owned." In the haze of intoxication, Alexander Grayson looked like the most beautiful thing on Earth—or perhaps he really was. "Can... can you make me forget about Ryatt?" I breathed, my voice trembling. A smirk tugged at his lips, dark and predatory, as his hand slid inside my panties, finding the heat of my wet, aching pussy. A soft moan escaped me, and I clung to him, every nerve alight."I'll make you forget about yourself, flower," with that he crushed his lips to mine. *** From the moment I met Alexander Grayson, I despised him with everything I had. But when with fate's cruel sense of humor he forced his way into my life, everything changed. He was everything I loathed—a womanizer, a violent monster, a spoiled heir with an ego larger than life itself. He should have meant nothing to me. Yet, I learned the truth the hard way: nothing about Alexander Grayson was ever simple. Alex dragged me into the hell he'd created, where he sat as the devil on the throne of darkness And the most terrifying part? I didn’t want to….escape.

On the day I receive my Distinguished Service Medal, I also receive word that my grandma has passed away. My superior grants me special leave to return to my hometown to mourn her death, so I rush to my ancestral home at once. But when I reach the ancestral graveyard behind the hill, I witness something that makes my blood boil. The graves of my deceased family members have been razed to the ground. Even my parents' graves have been brutally dug up. Their urns are now placed under flower pots filled with blooming red roses. Grandma's coffin has been pried open as well.Her body now lies strewn on the ground and has started to rot. I also see Lucy Stewart, my autistic younger sister. Melissa Abbott, my wife's assistant, orders Lucy around like a maid, forcing her to move heavy construction materials around. Enraged, I grab Melissa by the throat and throw her to the ground. "How dare you destroy my family's ancestral cemetery and make my sister do hard labor! Do you want to end up buried here too?" Melissa coughs up blood before crawling back onto her feet, her expression vicious and scornful. "I'm simply carrying out Ms. Fuller's instructions. She says that your ancestral cemetery is located in a good spot. It's also the perfect size to be turned into a private horse ranch and a garden for her future husband. "Ms. Fuller calls the shots here in Joverton City. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?" Resisting the urge to put an end to her life, I call up Eva Fuller, my wife. "I heard you call the shots here in Joverton City. Well, I shall put that to the test today!"

So here's the thing about being adopted by a junkie sex worker: you learn real fast that nobody's coming to save you, and the world doesn't give a shit about your potential. I got out and got a scholarship to some fancy boarding school where rich kids pretend they're better than you because their parents bought their way in instead of fucking their way through. Silvercrest Academy; prestigious, elite and completely fucking weird. Like, weird enough that my roommate has fangs and my lab partner's eyes glow in the dark and the three hottest guys on campus won't leave me alone for reasons I can't figure out. Dante—the golden boy who looks at me like I'm a problem he's trying to solve. Jax—the TA who tried to intimidate me until I put him on his ass, and now he follows me around like an angry cat that hasn't decided if it wants to be pet or bite me. Elias—the too-pretty rich boy who asks too many questions and looks at me like I'm the answer to something he's not saying out loud. I thought I was here to study genetics, turns out I'm the genetics. Aether bloodline that is believed to be ancient and extinct except apparently not, because I'm standing here with gold in my hair that won't dye out and an allergy to silver that makes no sense and power I don't know how to use sitting under my skin like a loaded gun. Someone's trying to kill me for it and through it all, three wolves telling me I'm their mate—which would be flattering if I wasn't too busy trying not to die to figure out what the fuck that means.

Luke finally agreed to bind with me, urged by his mother Monica on her deathbed. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a glow on his golden-brown fur. He stood by the bed, his amber wolf eyes deep and seemingly nervous. As soon as he stepped out of the room, his expression returned to its usual calm, and he said to me coldly, "Emma, let's wait a little longer." "I need to bond with Alina first," he continued, his wolf eyes distant, his tone neutral. "Her mother is seriously ill, and I promised her." "What about your mother? She wants to witness our bonding too!" "I have to bond with Alina first. You don't need to worry about my mother’s health," he said, as he effortlessly removed the vow ring Monica had given me from my finger, then turned and walked away. His little wolf followed, its tail wagging happily, showing no sign of reluctance. But as soon as he left, his mother suddenly took a turn for the worse. By the time Monica passed away, I was the only one by her side. Weakly, she squeezed my hand and whispered, "Emma, don’t wait for him anymore. Find someone who truly loves you." Her hand fell limp, and in the quiet darkness, I made two calls. The first was to the church, changing our marking ceremony to a funeral for his mother. The second call was to my best friend. Her brother was the Alpha of another pack, with dark fur and sharp green eyes. "He once said that if I was willing, he would bond with me... Is that promise still valid?" There was a pause on the other end before a deep voice, full of natural authority, came through: "Emma, have you finally figured it out?"

Liliana Adare wasn't expecting to fall in love with the enemy. After a chance encounter, Liliana's last year at "The Academy," a prestigious boarding prep school, turns into an unexpected romance with the biggest bully in school, the handsome and cruel Atticus Preston, she isn't sure she should believe her good luck. Practically overnight she goes from being one of the most bullied and reviled students on campus to being everyone's new darling. Little does she know it is all a game. The richest kids in school like to make other suffer for their amusement, and so they began "The Bully Games," a secret competition where the winner gets to position of "group leader" and the opportunity to shape the game for the year to follow. What Lily doesn't realize is that her new boyfriend is also this year's architect. And their relationship is anything but chance. Let the games begin! ___________________________________ I let my finger fall as the person's face slowly comes into focus and my brain realizes what I have done. Standing behind me is not a random stranger, it is a very particular person, one I've been trying to get out of my mind since yesterday. Atticus Preston, the most handsome, conniving, self-centered jerk on campus is staring down at me, his large hazel eyes full of amusement. "I'm sorry, were you trying to say something." “I ah…so…I…” I sputter, not quite able to catch my breath or find my words, lost in the golden glow of his eyes. “Atticus, I'm…” “Speechless, perfect,” his smile increases as he leans in close to whisper in my ear. “I feel that way when I see you sometimes too.” My heart rate increases and my breath quickens. Is he flirting with me? ...

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.

Her deep big dark brown eyes were still the same, but only deeper in the glow of the evening sunglight. When they met mine, it was like they saw right through me, knew my darkest deepest thoughts, my vulnerability, my fears and my desires. It felt like she knew what I don't.... And it really freaked me out.She was fair skinned, had this beauty mark beside her left eye, and it was cute, plus her small straight nose. Her pale brown thin lips were always like they were in a pout.She wasn't my type, that was for sure. So why was I completely irresistibly fascinated by her like I was spell bind?"How old are you? My voice came out a little too rough for my own liking, because all I could think of was nibbling on those pale brown thin lips of hers, run my tongue over them, and lastly, kiss them."Seventeen." She replied after releasing a deep breath which I suspected she'd held captive earlier on. Her tiny hands pulled the hoodie away from her hair and I came face to face with her cornrows.This girl!Fuuuuuuck! She was beautiful, she was possibly the most beautiful thing I had come across today. I don't know, maybe she looked that beautiful to me because she brought me to this enchanted place."I bet you know me as Octavia cause I know you as Eliakim." She raised her eyes up to mine again. "It's a strange name, never heard of it, but it's nice." I was starting to like it when she stared at me, even longed for her eyes to meet mine."So is yours."***This story is about a bipolar guy, and an insecure girl.