Rolling In The Deep Lyrics

My boyfriend gave me away to his arch-nemesis because he lost a bet. On the same night, I was driven to his arch-nemesis’ house. Before leaving, he expressed remorse, “Anya, just bear with it for a bit. I will come to pick you up in a month.” That night, the man pinned me to the bed and started unbuttoning my shirt. As he traced his cold fingertips against my collarbone, he said, deep and seductively, “So that’s the scumbag you fell for? Why don’t you be with me instead? I can give you everything you want.” I leaned forward and kissed him right away. “Sure.”

Synopsis: "Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means" says the king. "No matter what, make sure she doesn't die. I want her alive"he paused and took in a deep breath. "I have so many plans in store for her" ***** Her name is Isabelle. And she's the last confessor - the last of her kind. Of course, they were more than that. But, not until her village was ambushed few days ago by the King's guards, and every one of her kind died. All the confessors were killed.Every one of them died, except her - Isabelle. What was the vengeful King's plans for her?

Working for a young master who had deep trauma was surely difficult, but Hawisa had no other choice. Even though the young master's trauma sometimes appeared and Hawisa was injured, she would never leave him. The young master was so touched, he said: "How interesting! Let's see whether she really heading me without any matter or no." Then his attraction made Hawisa the only woman he loved. Whatever Hawisa wanted will always be given, but how could Hawisa believe that she had been the one loved by the young master. And how could Young Master Amon Nikolas Sergio convince his love for Hawisa?

On the night her mate should have accepted her, Aria is rejected and beaten in front of the Eden Pack. She takes flight on a full moon, shifts for the first time in fear and rage, and runs. She falls into another pack’s territory and is thrown into prison as a rogue. Kallos, Jordan’s Alpha, begins to dream of a hand pointing at the captive, telling him she is his Luna. The dreams will not stop. A masked return, a hidden cure, a betrayal that cuts deep, can a broken girl reclaim a throne she never wanted, or will the packs tear Luneria apart? Aria must learn who she is, who to trust, and how to turn her pain into power.

Seraphina Ashford was born to kill supernatural creatures. A deadly assassin, she had spent years hunting vampires and werewolves, wiping them out without mercy. But beneath her ruthless exterior lay a woman who had suffered too much, a former wolf now trapped in a human body. By day, she lived as a high school teacher, blending into the human world. By night, she was a relentless predator, taking revenge on the creatures who destroyed her life. She despised them—every last one. But fate was cruel. On a school trip deep in the forest, her world shattered when she met *him*. Damien Alexander Blackwood. Alpha of the Blood Eclipse Pack. A monster feared by all. He was not just a wolf—he was a hybrid, a deadly fusion of vampire and werewolf, making him nearly unstoppable. His pack was infamous for their brutality, treating mates as nothing more than possessions. Damien was the worst of them all, a merciless ruler who crushed anyone who defied him. And now, Seraphina was his mate. She hated him. She wanted him dead. But Damien did not accept rejection. He wanted her—body, mind, and soul—and he would have her. When she defied him, he bared his fangs. When she resisted, he found a way to break her. And when she shut her eyes to avoid his hypnotic gaze, he forced them open. A sharp pain tore through her neck as his fangs sank deep, sealing her fate. Her blood coated his lips, his crimson eyes locking onto hers with a victorious smirk. She had fallen into his trap. And now, she knew—there was no escape. She was his. Forever.

“Desmond,” I breathed out, “don’t.” But he didn't listen to my plea. His lips found my neck, his teeth gently grazing the frantic pulse that betrayed my panic. My skin instantly lit up beneath his mouth, a complete traitor to my mind. When his hand slid lower, tugging at the drawstring of my skirt, a terrifying mix of panic and deep heat crashed together inside me. “Desmond, please. This is wrong.” “Nothing about you has ever been wrong to me,” he growled out against my throat. Clothes instantly fell away as if they had never mattered. My shirt. His shirt. My skirt. The last threads of my will to fight. He settled heavily between my thighs, a burning hot weight. I felt him hard against me, thick and urgently insistent. My breath hitched sharply when the blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance. “Tell me to stop, Ana,” he said, his voice ragged, his eyes desperately locked on mine. “Say the word, and I will immediately.” I opened my mouth to speak. No sound escaped. He pushed in, moving with agonizing slowness, stretching me open inch by painful inch. A broken, strangled sound left my throat as he filled me completely, buried deep to the hilt inside my most intimate space. My inner walls instantly clenched around him, shocked, aching, and intensely alive. He stilled his movement, letting me fully register every powerful throb of him inside me. “Fuck, Ana,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. “You feel completely like mine.” Then, he moved again.

Después de que la amiga de la infancia de mi prometido descubriera que nací con una enfermedad cardíaca, vertió en secreto una bebida energética de alta dosis en mi champán. En cuanto lo bebí, mi corazón se aceleró y un dolor punzante se extendió por mi pecho. Presa del pánico, abrí mi única medicación de emergencia, pero el agua que usaba para tomarla había sido reemplazada por agua con limón fuerte. En cuanto lo bebí, palidecí. Perdí todas las fuerzas y me desplomé en el suelo. —El agua con limón está llena de vitamina C. Ayuda con la resaca y te mantiene saludable. Charlotte Whitmore se rio tanto que casi se dobló. Con los brazos cruzados, miró a mi prometido, Ethan Cross, el jefe de los Rolling Stones, un grupo de la mafia. —¡Ethan, la actuación de tu prometida es increíble! Llevo años siendo doctora y nunca he visto a nadie reaccionar así a un poco de champán y agua con limón. Me mordí el labio hasta que noté el sabor a sangre. El dolor me picaba en los ojos y me aferré a la pierna de Ethan. —Cariño, por favor, ¡llama a una ambulancia! Ya no aguanto más... Por un instante, su expresión vaciló, pero los invitados lo interrumpieron rápidamente. —¡Vamos, deja de fingir! Nadie se muere por un poco de champán y agua con limón. —Sí, solo estás celosa de que a Charlotte la ascendieran y no quisiste brindar por ella. El rostro de Ethan se volvió frío de nuevo. Me soltó la mano de un tirón y se apartó. —Charlotte es doctora. Estarás bien con ella aquí. Dejé de suplicar y le escribí a mi padre pidiéndole ayuda.

` It was a cool, breezy and stormy night. Rain came down in sheets, as a dark figure stood before a house. The house was pretty ordinary, white with blue shutters; it didn't have more than two bedrooms. It looked like a cozy little family home with flowers and shrubs lining the front lawn, and then the smell from the pellet stove smoke invaded his nostrils. He took a deep breath and pulled out an old, rusted compass from his black trench coat. It looked like it could have been from the 14th century, the small, brass disc was dented and the Victorian designs were faded. He studied it as it pointed east, towards the small house. He looked the house over carefully, looking for the best entrance, before proceeding towards the side to gaze into the window. Inside you can see the small kitchen; the brand new, all black appliances off set the linoleum floor. Cabinets filled almost every wall of the small space that made it look more crowded than it should have been. The kitchen opened to a larger room which seemed to be used as a living room and a dining room all at once. The whole house looked crowded, with the furniture in the living room all touching except for a small gap to walk through and the dining room was so close to the sofa, it could have been sitting on it. He stepped back into the shadows as he watched a young couple enter the kitchen. The wife was tall and slender, had strawberry blond hair formed around her face accenting her jaw-line and her deep blue eyes stopped your heart as you got lost in them. Her fair complexion was silky and complimented her soft face.

"Sherman...Sherman Colton," I managed to mutter, my voice quivering from a combination of exhaustion and worry. The name surfaced from the depths of my consciousness, unexpected yet purposeful. As I felt my awareness fade, a lingering feeling of unease settled within me. I didn't just say that name in response to a question; it was more like a desperate plea, a fragment of worry for the man whose image and reputation I was afraid I had ruined in the chaotic events that had taken place. As I surrendered to the embrace of unconsciousness, a deep uncertainty gripped my soul, unsure if I would ever wake up to the light of another day. I whispered, "Mr.Colton, I didn't break your trust." ........................................................................... Within the luxurious Elite Oaks Resort, Zara Tahel, the unassuming housekeeper, found herself thrust into a passionate whirlwind of destiny. Her heartache led her to cancel her wedding when she uncovered her lover's affair with his superior. Little did she know, her life was about to take a captivating turn. In her bridal gown's elegance, Zara collided with Sherman Colton, the charismatic CEO of the resort. Their encounter was electric, sparking a photograph that set the world buzzing with intrigue. But their chemistry was undeniable, a passionate connection that smoldered. Sherman offered an arrangement, one fraught with desire and hidden longing. As their worlds intertwined, the question hung in the air: Was their deal just a façade to protect his reputation, or had a deep, secret attraction ignited since that unforgettable moment? Amidst moonlit nights and stolen moments at Elite Oaks Resort, Zara and Sherman embarked on a passionate journey, testing the limits of love and desire. Their hearts danced to a melody of fervent ardor, setting their worlds ablaze with irresistible chemistry.

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.