Santana X Novels & Stories

I just needed to find the perfect timing to do it. “Boss, she is losing it again” Santos, my new second hand, said, entering my office. The man did not bother knocking on the door, not that he needed to, the door was wide open considering that no one, aside from him, dared approach this room to begin with.

he commanded. With a curt nod, Damian exited, casting a lingering glance back before the doors closed behind him. Alone, Xander turned to Sarah, who was visibly shaken. He cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, Sarah. Remember the purpose of the hypnosis: to embrace your new identity as Tanya Reyes." His voice was sound yet soothing. "Sarah is a part of your past."

she said drawing her top over her head, but Danté stood up lifting her, turned her and opened the door. "I said, maybe next time" he sneered at her and closed the stall. Xena sighed and dressed again, maybe she saw too much in him? She found him attractive but she had to admit she also chose to be a huntress, therefore love may not be permitted, so even if she knew him for years and now started seeing him as a man, she couldn't help be haunted that this was the only thing that would happen between them, sex, and nothing else. She left the stall and found her seat next to him again, drinking on his bottles, soon he'll be a wreck, will the Cross even allow him to continue if he finally breaks?

My pussy, wait not even my pussy, that thing can't fit my mouth. “ You can stop staring now, Samantha!” Maximo shouts before he smirks at me. Santino however, marches forward, one foot in front of the other. I look around. “ Don't even think about it or I will burn you alive!” Maximo yells. Santino in all his naked glory makes it near me and I can't control my eyes. Near, it looks even more huge than it did where he was standing. My jaw drops. “ Try what you did again, and I will let you fall to your death,” He growls, his sapphire eyes chilling me down. His voice is sharper than any edge, and I can feel it cutting me down.

Xavier leaned against the doorpost, arms crossed over his chest, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he observed Selena's subtle reactions—the slight flaring of her nostrils, the barely perceptible tension in her shoulders. "You know, Selena," Xavier said conversationally, "Santiago here is something of an artist. He says pain is like music—it has rhythm, tempo, crescendos. I've always found that... poetic." Santiago finished arranging his tools, each placed with professional precision. He turned to Selena, his eyes empty and cold—the eyes of a man who had long ago lost any connection to human empathy. His lips curved upward in what should've been a smile, though it never reached tho

Santana. "It seems like you needed a doctor," Sasha quipped as Dr. Santana hastened to Lila's side. "Thank you," I murmured to Sasha, then turned my attention to Dr. Santana, who was now meticulously examining Lila's condition. Dr. Santana faced the nurse with a sense of urgency. "Have any tests been conducted on her?" The nurse, appearing uneasy, nodded. "And the results?" she pressed. The nurse handed over a report, stepping back as Dr Santana scrutinised the contents. My anxiety mounted when I noticed Dr. Santana's eyes widen in shock.

" Ohh ... Uhh... Fuck! I'm Cumming. I ... Ohh shit! " I nearly gasp but held on. No Doubt, my roommate Keach is masturbating Right now. Great! That makes two of us. I walk away from the restroom where the moan is coming from then sat down on the chair that was at a corner. Finally Keach walk into the room. I turn around to take in her appearance. She is a beautiful blonde lady with long thin legs. So fair and smooth. Tattoos were drawn around her breast down to her arms. " Dahlia? " She asked with a grinned and I nodded. " Oh damn! Look how beautiful you are. Guys and girls will drool at your beauty. I'm Keach "

A streak of rust-colored light hit the windshield, and then— A sound. A slow guitar intro that pulled her back two decades before she could stop it. Then that voice—clear, aching, undeniable. “You could be my silver spring… blue-green colors flashing…” “Silver Springs.” Her hand froze on the dial. She hadn’t heard it since college—since cutoff shorts, bonfires, and singing into the wind with no one to impress but herself. Before worship sets replaced playlists. Before she started skipping songs that made her feel. Eden didn’t switch it off. She turned it up.