Ring A Ringa Roses Novels & Stories

He wondered. Some moments later, the large gate opened for them to go in. A long tiled road came into view. It was such a beautiful setting. At each side of the road, beautiful flowers and tress were planted. They were still in Saint Hok but Dante felt like he entered another world entirely. They passed through a vineyard and an orchard. The apples on the apple fruits looked too good to eat.

Felicia asks, her voice brimming with curiosity. Rose shrugs her shoulders, her gaze focused as she recalls the details. "There's this ring that I've seen on Blaze's finger," Rose begins, her voice steady but filled with intrigue. "He never takes it off, and it's the same ring as the one worn by the man I encountered..." Felicia can't contain her surprise, interrupting Rose mid-sentence. "Wait, you actually meet him? The man behind all this?" Rose shakes her head, a tinge of disappointment evident in her voice.

He asked as he started walking. Oopening my hand, I saw the most delicate and childish piece of jewelry. A pink flower sat on an aged adjustable silver band. Some parts were green, but images of my past flooded me. “I got a present for you!” I giggled as I held out a ring. “You are my best friend! Happy birthday!” “YOU GOT ME A RING!” Angie squeeled in delight. Her blonde curls bounced as she jumped up and down. “I always wanted a ring!” Her blue eyes sparkled like the flower did in the sun.

They don't appear to be words on this one, but I flip it over to see what's weighing it down. On the other side is a rose gold ring with a huge stone. Metal flower petals surround the stone, making it look like a beautiful flower and my jaw drops. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. XXX

After a while, her cries subsided, and she pulled back, her eyes red but calm. “I wish I had a ring,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair in frustration. My gaze fell on a small sunflower nearby, and an idea struck. I plucked it, fashioning the stem into a makeshift ring, then slipped it onto her finger. “Until I get you a proper one, this will have to do,” I said with a smile. Zara stared at the flower ring, her lips curving into a soft smile. “How do we seal this bond?” I asked teasingly.

And as he slid the ring onto her finger, he said nothing—but his gaze screamed mine. The metal kissed her skin. It slid home like it had always been there, waiting. Rosealba glanced at the ring for half a second, then she reached next. Her hands trembled gently—soft, reverent. Like she was placing a crown, not a ring. She took his hand—larger, rougher, the ones that strokes her cunt and leaves her shaking—and pressed her lips to his knuckles first. A soft kiss. A quiet promise. Then she slid the ring on, slow, sensual, steady.

Ismail says. “We are not, but it really is a beautiful ring,” I declare. “I apologize for assuming and yes, it is a beautiful ring,” the lady agrees. “It’s fine, and yes, it is.” Ismail nods. “This is so beautiful. Can I see that?” I ask, pointing at a very lovely ring. The ring has a golden band with a black rose carved on top with diamonds. It’s beautiful. I try it on, and it fits perfectly. I walk over to meet Ismail to show him. He is looking at some wristwatches on the other side.

The smell of smoke never left her. Even after five years, Inés still woke up coughing some nights, the phantom scent of ash curling through her dreams like a ghost refusing to rest. “Name?” the guard at the Delgado estate gate asked, his voice flat but suspicious. Inés gripped the strap of her cheap bag tighter. “Inés Montoya. I’m here for the maid position.” The man’s eyes raked over her; young, pretty, average enough not to draw attention, which was the point. He muttered something into his walkie-talkie, then motioned for her to go inside.

"What else?" "The flowers," I breathed, my heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs as the dark, addictive chemistry between us flared to life. "No white lilies. They smell like a funeral. Use the dark roses from the estate gardens." "Marcus," Rowan called out without breaking eye contact with me. "Write it down." "Already on it, Boss," Marcus’s voice drifted from the shadows of the transept, laced with a quiet amusement that made my cheeks burn.

If it wasn’t for Avery dragging her along. Kira wouldn’t have had a clue about this gigantic rose garden hidden in the Southern Suburb of Hemsworth. That was Avery’s little secret, not part of the Chambers Group. He had fields, as big as hundreds of acres, all filled with Damask roses. Under the sunset, the garden was a sight for sore eyes. The bright pink roses against the green leaves were stunning to look at and would definitely lift anyone’s mood. Kira was hooked, she couldn’t take her eyes off them.