Rosalina X Peach Novels & Stories

"You don't need to thank me for something I did for us." Riccardo emitted a theatrical groan. "Sweet Mother Mary, get a room before I choke on your love fumes." Rafael didn't pay him any attention at all, his hand finding Rosalia's waist, keeping her close as he reached for a slice of peach. "Eat," he whispered, holding it to her lips. She smiled, taking a delicate bite, a small sound in her throat that made Rafael's face soften into something I never thought him capable of, pure tenderness.

“Seeing you in this dress I want to do everything that the dress says… to TOUCH you.” Rosealba's pussy clamped at the hoarseness of his undertone and she stood motion-fixed, paying attention to every breath that her pussy made. They communicated the desires that her mouth could not as he was hell-grateful for Lina’s choice of outfit for her. Her dress—a handless piece of cosmic night color with a sweetheart neckline had silver crest embroideries that spelled out her desire. “Touch me.” Rosealba’s heart thrummed underneath her chest, suddenly in competition with the way her pussy moved.

he give her pencil with Smile "Oh how sweet, thank you sweetheart" she pulls his cheeck "Now Paul your game is over" rose yelled inside

Rose’s POV: So, now that work he wants to do from me. I am tired just by washing utensils and wants to go home to where I spend y whole life but this tire of work makes me to just lay down on sofa and I want to relax my body but he again came and give me another work to do. Truthly, I never want to do any other work because I also not have so much strength to do any other and it makes me more anger. And this time I want that he should eat me instead of doing all that work from me. This time I have to wash his clothes and finally after an hour I complete this work also and now it’s evening, the sun looks so beautiful from the terrace of mansion, at one side sun is sat and on the other side th

I told myself this was tactically interesting and nothing else. By day seven I had stopped telling myself that. On day eight Ruby brought oats with strawberries arranged on top with a care that was its own form of hostility, and stood watching me from the doorway while I considered the tray with the expression of someone who was genuinely sorry to cause inconvenience. "I'm so sorry," I said warmly. "Strawberries give me hives. And the oats look like they've been waiting a while. I don't want to trouble you with something I won't be able to eat."

“Friends and families discount.” Ollie paid the florist and then put the box of lilies inside his backpack before he plucked a single red rose from one of the shelves to his left. “Here.” He placed the rose in my hand. “It matches your hair.” Then Ollie turned around and walked toward the door without waiting for me while I stood there with my cheeks turning the same shade of red as the rose in my hand.

A gentle hand petted through brown locks, and those warm eyes landed on her again, "What is your favorite flower, miss. Croix?" "I like…" She bit his lip, trying to think, but only one answer came to mind, "roses." An amused chuckle hit her ears, "Red ones?" "…No." A simple denial. "Then what is your favorite?" "I don't have one." The laugh sounded again, and Alina felt her cheeks grow hot.

Chapter Thirty Seven I looked up at Gale, my eyes locked with his while my hands tightened around the flower banquet that I was holding. "Gale Hilton do you take Amelia Rose to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish. To respect her as your woman and to stay by her side in richness and poor, in sickness and health until death do you apart ? " Gale turned to look at the magistrate then back at me " Yes I do " he replied with a smile of his own.

Perhaps he had not loved me for a long time now. It was my fault for never noticing—for stupidly believing that true love would never die. Now, Lara smiled as she leaned against the doorway, purring so softly her voice could melt anything, "I heard you made pasta. Can I have a bowl? With minced ginger, please. My cravings are really terrible these days." "You've got it," John grinned lovingly. "Who would spoil my baby if not me?" Still, he soon paused when he inadvertently noticed the black roses outside. "I'll tell the gardener to uproot those flowers. They remind me of Claire's disgusting face—I don't want them to hurt our eyes!"

And people like him always underestimate girls like her. “Fine,” he mutters. “Just don’t touch anything.” She cheers, slipping past him before I can grab her, and I have no fucking choice but to follow. The aquarium is quiet, the only sound the low hum of the filtration systems, the gentle ripple of water shifting through glass tanks. Rosalina moves through it like she belongs there, pressing her hands to the exhibits, her breath fogging up the glass as she watches the fish dart and weave between coral. She giggles, spinning to face me, her eyes bright with something pure. Something unguarded. “Leonardo, look,” she whispers. “They’re so small.”