Sarah Matthews Hot Mga Nobela at Kwento

Elena yelled in Matthew's face, trying to pull him to the dance floor. “Wait! Sarah is coming, and she’ll be here anytime from now on! Have fun! I’ll look for you when she gets here!” “Sarah is coming?” Elena yelled out again, her bubbly self dying as she stared at him. “Yeah,” Matthew replied as he looked into her eyes. Even with the sweat glistening on her forehead, she still looked beautiful. She was in a tank top and skin-tight blue jeans. She tied a red checker's top to her waist, covering part of her revealed skin.

Mara’s name flickered through the crowd, each syllable sharper than the last. I caught fragments as I moved. “Her sister—” “Caine’s prisoner.” “I heard she was his mistress.” “She murdered his Luna.” “No, Caine murdered them all—” I stepped into the center of the circle, the hush of velvet and wool closing in behind me. The hunters watched. Some with curiosity, their heads tilted as if I were an unexpected twist in a familiar story. Some with suspicion, lips pressed thin, eyes narrowed. One with open amusement... Darius Blackthorne, leaning back as if the entire affair was meant for his private entertainment. He tilted his head, calculating, as if I were a puzzle he might enjoy taking apart

Nonetheless, they have only ever spurned his passion to further heated tempo as he dipped his head down and sucked one nipple inside his mouth. He tasted the salty flavor of sweat in them but the aroma of Sarah’s heavenly smell drowned out every other else in comparison. With her raven hair all chaotic and messed up, Sarah looked like a woman who enjoyed all the loving she was getting. She was a mature ripe woman and knew exactly what she wanted from her pair. “I’m also there. Almost! Faster, Warren.” “YES!” “I’m...” “AHHHHHHH!” Sarah screamed as she felt her nether regions tighten up so good on the long invader inside her depths.

“That’s great. If nothing else, I’ll be going now. Send my regards to her when she wakes up.” “Sure.” “Okay then, I’ll be off.” Sara said before turning around and walked towards the door. Matthew only watched as the elegant woman strode away. By normal circumstances, he would be fangirling over her, Sara Whitegate also known as the White Crane, one of the five Coloured Hunters. He wanted to meet all the Coloured Hunters someday. At that moment, he remembered something crucial. “Wait, Sara!” The door was already opened by the maids and Sara was just about to step through. She turned around and looked at Matthew with a questioning gaze.

If it were because of the rumors, it wouldn't be enough to make them kill me like this. Swara was silent for a moment, then replied, "Maybe they hate you because you're Sir Charles' mistress! Someone has said that they saw Sir Charles kiss you with their own eyes, so everyone believes that you are Sir Charles' mistress. Maybe you do not know. Except for me, all the girls here love Sir Charles. Their greatest wish is to be his mistress. But up until now, Sir Charles had not noticed a single girl. So that's the regret of the girls."

I gasped and pulled away instinctively. "You feel that too, don't you?" he asked, watching me closely. "What?" I blinked, feigning confusion. "Don’t pretend, Elara." He reached out and gently ran his fingers over my arm. The same warmth pulsed beneath my skin again. "What have you done to me?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I’m supposed to be scared of them all… but I’m not. I don’t even understand what’s happening to me. "It’s the mate bond," he said simply. "You feel it because we’re connected."

"I didn't know the federal government was capable of such mercy." ​"Only when they're confused by two different corporate entities," Matthias said, stepping closer until the clean, familiar scent of him—woodsmoke, fresh air, and that magnetic heat—enveloped me. He didn't look at the blueprints on my desk. He looked at me, his gaze dropping to my mouth with a slow, heavy sincerity that made my pulse skip a beat. "You look beautiful without your armor, Sara." ​"I feel... lighter," I confessed, leaning my hips back against the mahogany desk, holding the mug between us. "Almost vulnerable. It’s a strange sensation for a Smith."

And of course, he’s not alone. He’s walking toward us with a man who’s equally infuriatingly hot. “Holy shit,” Britney mutters. “Face-to-face Matthew is hotter than I imagined.” Then she eyes his companion. “So is the man candy beside him.” Matthew’s eyes land on me. They flick down—to the slit in my dress—then back up, slow and burning. I forget how to breathe. “Harper,” he says. I go still. Britney senses it. “Hi, we haven’t been introduced. I’m Britney Collins. Best friend. Emotional support system. Amateur psychic. And you must be Matthew. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Her evaluation of Sarah was "Haters gonna hate." Lydia was a girl about the same age as me, wearing thick black-rimmed glasses. "Tsk, it seems that anyone can join Sacred Heart Hospital now. I wonder what the board of directors was thinking. Did they lose their heads?" "Sarah..." Lydia secretly tugged at her sleeve, hinting for her to lower her voice, then gave me an apologetic look. Sarah glanced sideways at me, still not lowering her voice, "She doesn't look like she has any real skills. What will she use to cure diseases then, her face? Humph!"

I strip off my clothes, but before I can shift, a wave of hot desire rushes through me, and I smell the strong scent of sweet pears. I look at my mate. “See something you like?” She takes a moment to look me over from head to toe. “I don’t see anything I don’t like,” she says, her voice deeper than normal and her aquamarine eyes darkening to a sapphire blue. She reaches out and strokes her hand over my hip, to my adonis belt, following the line of it. “Little mate, I told you that you could touch me anywhere, anytime, but this will get very embarrassing, very quickly,” I say, gesturing to my hard length that is now standing at attention.