Rowan Blanchard Sexy Novels & Stories

anymore, I'm not the Kaytly Blanche I used to be, so wake up, okay?" Kaytly Blanche did not want to lie to him, nor did she wish to deceive herself. She no longer loved him, could not agree to be with him again, because she fell in love with another man. It's just that a man's sexuality inexplicably controls Kaytly Blanche. Her words were very forced, he shook his head miserably and said with hatred: "Kaytly, you are my bow, you can only become my woman, only you can commit to your heart. I want to be by your side again." After saying that, Rowan was like a wild beast, his face red. He brutally tore her clothes, his hand groping inside, stroking her breasts with force. "Ah? Get out of the w

I knew that scar. Elara had one just like it from the surgery she’d had years ago after that skiing accident in Aspen. I’d seen it up close, brushed makeup over it for her once. It was the same shape. The same spot. “Elena,” I said, my voice too sharp. She turned slowly. “Yes?” I swallowed. “Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile. “I just thought I saw something.” She smiled back. “You see a lot of things, don’t you?”

I ask turning to her, seeing she's still dancing, like she has no fucks to give. "Dancing" she shrugs, she fucking shrugs. Quickly looking around, grabbing her waist from behind, she tenses and stop dancing. Making me lose my shit. "You danced with a complete stranger, now dance" I growl in her ear, she shivers and I smirk. Perfect timing, 'work' by rihanna starts playing and she starts grinding on me, I roam her body with my hands while she dances on me, throwing her head back on my chest she grabs my hand bringing it to her perfectly shape tits, instantly I harden, she arches her back, pressing her ass against my dick.

It was his. My claws scraped out before I realized it, sharp tips tearing deep grooves into the wooden desk as I fucked her. Splinters rained down, my rut snarling through me, the wolf just under my skin clawing for air. My teeth ached, my vision sharpened, and I slammed into her harder, chasing the phantom in my head. Tristan. Always Tristan. Until suddenly— It wasn’t. It was him. Tate. Blue eyes cutting into me. A sharp mouth spitting venom, daring me, pushing me until I snapped. Tate beneath me, Tate’s body arching, Tate’s lips bruised and swollen from my kiss.

It’s not me. Rowan

A strange prickle ran over my skin, like my body noticed something my brain was still refusing to process. Rowan put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. Not rough. Not gentle either. More like someone used to being obeyed. “Lie down,” he growled. “If you get up, you’ll pass out again.” “Is this how you talk to women?” I hissed. “Because that would explain a lot.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you always bark this much? Because that would explain why you’re annoying.” “Or maybe I just don’t like dying in the hands of mountain lunatics,” I shot back.

In the meantime, Rowan was checking his phone when the blonde woman that he spotted earlier was by his side and put her hand on his lap. Rowan felt the goosebump rising on his nape, he did not like the flirty touches. That was why he opted to go to a strip club rather than a sex club. The touches reminded him of his ex-wife, she was the A-grade queen bitch, the trophy wife that he gladly disposed of after finding her riding their pool boy.

His hand in my hair freezes, pushing me down, holding me deep on his cock as if to hide me, to smother the sound of my breathing. "I'm fine," Rowan grinds out. His voice is barely recognizable. "Just... a cramp. In my leg." "Sit tight then. I'm going to grab a file from inside. Don't go anywhere." Footsteps retreat. The sliding glass door opens and shuts. Rowan doesn't wait for the door to click. As soon as we are alone, his hips snap forward, fucking my face with force. He abandons all pretense. He holds my head in place and thrusts into my mouth, hard and fast, chasing his release. I gag slightly, tears pricking my eyes, but I take it, loving the roughness, the desperation.

He collected loyalty, fear, power, and bodies. I was simply another symbol. The bathroom door opened with a soft sound. I did not look at first. I did not need to. Rowan stood there, filling the doorway. Tall. Broad. His dark hair damp and loose. His steel-gray eyes empty, already distant. Maribel Crowne stood behind him. Naked. Relaxed. Her body leaned into his without hesitation. Auburn hair spilled down her shoulders, her skin still warm and flushed. Her smile held satisfaction. And something cruel.

Right now, he was calming his desire to take her another time, it was hard when she was snuggling into him comfortably naked. He was struggling to calm his heated blood and thickening length, so Rowan carefully removed himself from Alicia’s hold. He bit his fist she turned the other side, her bare backside sticking out. He just wanted to nip it. Shaking his head, Rowan turned away from his sexy mate. He was acting like a d*mned teenage boy unable to control himself. Rowan stopped at the mini bar to the side of the high arched window of the old manor. After pouring a whiskey, he sipped on the content and watched the darkness outside. The moon was bright tonight and…