Shake Hand Grip Table Tennis

"I-I T-That was" she couldn't form the right words because of fear. Fear of getting exposed, fear of being caught. The Secret she was buried deep inside her about to expose in front of him, which she never wanted in a million years. "Sssh" the rough pad of his thumb caressed her soft lips while his big veiny hand held her waist with a steel like grip only to close her eyes helplessly. "Let me taste you Sweetness" , with that crashing his lips on her sealed her fate with him, unaware of the consequences. Isabella Watson, a beautiful 23 years old girl. She is the epitome of beauty any man can die for. She left her homeland just to put herself into the devil's den. Alexander Kingston, a 30 years old handsome bachelor. The youngest billionaire of the country is also a ruthless mafia King of the underworld . He is known for his manipulative mind and rudeness. He is living his life just to destroy the person who snatched his beloved one. Her Secret, a heartbreaking tale of her innocent soul. A tale of her misery and his revenge.

A deep bone-melting groan vibrates from his chest. “I want to see you malyshka.Every inch of you.”  I shiver in anticipation as his fingers trail down my back, lowering the zipper of my dress, the fabric pooling at my waist. My tits come into view as cool air kisses my bare skin. His sharp intake of breath makes my stomach flip.  “Damn,” the word is rough, almost reverent as his large hand cups my left tit, squeezing softly. “They look even better than I had imagined.” His grip tightens slightly.   “A perfect fit for my hands.” ☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎ Serafina had only one dream: to take center stage at the New York Opera. But if wishes were horses, even beggars would have a ride. Thrown into an arranged marriage, She is determined to hate him but soon discovers that there’s a thin line between love and hate. Adriko has no use for love. His focus is power, his goal is revenge.But what do you do when your greatest threat is your most sinful desire? A pawn in the game… A Bride for a truce…

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.

A well-known actor, Ellie Syallis have fans of varying levels— most of them are obsessed, very obsessed. A day awaited by her fans came, where people that won and bought the limited slots came. They finally met their idol face to face, got to shake hands with the female and an autograph on one of her limited-edition DVDs, on cards and on pictures as well. But her once peaceful life will start to take turn for the worse she sees at that very moment. A man wearing a formal business suit with a stoic appearance approached her. She gladly offered her hand and so they shook hands. The male asked for her autograph and she said "yes" with a brimming smile. She couldn't take her eyes of the male. He was undeniably handsome and somehow mysteriously attractive. "Here!" She handed her autograph on the sheet of paper the male gave. “Have a nice day! And oh, please keep on supporting me!” She added and partly bowed. The stranger flashed a smirk that made her heart skip a beat, both in a pinch of threat or fear and in unknown excitement. "You're now my wife. Hello, Mrs. Folster. Can't wait to spend the rest of my days with you." Her facial expressions shifted to surprise, annoyance, fear, melancholy, and into anger as she finally took a glance on the paper she signed. It was a marriage contract!

On the day we reported for the new semester, my girlfriend had just been admitted to one of the country's top universities. That morning, she suddenly told me she had chosen the wrong major and wanted to take a year off to retake the entrance exam. I knew exactly why. It was for her childhood friend, the one who had not made it. Her parents begged me to talk her out of it. After a night of painful deliberation, she appeared downstairs at my dorm and said, "I've made up my mind. I won't retake the exam. Let's stay together and make this work." However, during the freshman welcome event, just as her name was being called, her phone lit up. A message from him. [My prep class started today. My deskmate isn't you anymore. It feels so strange.] She went completely still. I tightened my grip on her hand and warned her quietly, "If you leave now, we're finished. Forever." She whispered an apology, dragged her suitcase behind her, and walked out of the campus.

Riley never planned to work for Jax Maddox—the arrogant, insufferable, and ridiculously good-looking tennis champion. She only took the job when her twin sister, Vanessa falsely applied for an elite assistant position under her name, landed it, and then vanished. But now, she’s stuck—answering to Jax’s impossible demands, biting back her sharp retorts, and trying not to lose her mind (or the job) under his relentless teasing. Jax Maddox doesn’t do assistants. They never last. And yet, there’s something about Riley—her sharp mouth, her refusal to be intimidated by him—that gets under his skin. So, instead of firing her, he makes her life miserable just to see how long she’ll last. But Riley has bigger things to worry about—like Leo Carter, Jax’s friend and the only man who has ever made her heart race at first sight. As Leo turns up the charm and Jax turns up the torment, Riley finds herself caught between two men who are used to winning. Riley has to decide: will she play it safe, or will she risk everything—including her heart? And for whom—Leo or Jax?

It’s Monday and my first day of my new school. I drive my car around to where everyone else is parked, so I find myself a parking spot. Then I find the front office and go in and get my schedule. My first class is math, so I walk into the room and I’m the first one in there so I walk up to the teacher and hand him my paper to sign that I have to take back to the front office this afternoon. “Hello Miss. Billie Green I’m Mrs. Smart. It’s very nice to meet you.” The math teacher says, then sings the paper. You can go find yourself a set. I would try to find one in the front on the left-hand side. The kids pretty much already have the back full.” She tells me, and really it’s okay. I kinda like the front anyway. I make my way to a seat that looks vacant and sit down. Kids start piling in about five minutes later. And walking to their seats, there’s a tiny little girl that comes and seats down behind me. She introduces herself as Shaylee Apple. “Hello Shaylee Apple I’m Billie Green.” I tell her and hold my hand out to shake hers. I turn back around in my seat about the same time as a tall guy that has dirty blonde hair cut into spikes all over, ash gray eyes, so gray I can see the color all the way in my seat. He’s wearing a tight fitted gray shirt, and blue jeans. He has a very handsome face, but then he looks at me and instantly I see hatred in his eyes. What the heck, he doesn’t even know me. .

On the night of our eighth anniversary, I cooked everything Ethan loved. He didn't come home. I sat alone at the table until the food went cold. Then I did what I always did. I opened Selene's profile on the pack network. New post. One hour ago. A photo of Ethan, shirtless, building a fire in her den. Her hand on his shoulder. Her face turned toward the camera with a smile that showed too many teeth. The caption read: Grateful for old friends who drop everything when you need them. Even their marking anniversaries. I stared at it until my eyes burned. Then I liked it. Filed the bond-dissolution request. And started packing the trunk I'd kept ready for months. Ethan didn't believe it when he found out. "She's throwing a fit," I heard he told his packmates. "Give her three days." "I'll crook my finger and she'll come running back." "She always does." What he didn't understand was why I always came back. It was because I loved him. That was gone now.

"Pregnant patient, corpus luteum rupture, heavy bleeding! We need a consent form signed—now!" I stood there holding the clipboard, waiting, when a voice I knew way too well cut through the chaos. "I'm here!" Jimmy. My husband. The same guy who vanished on our anniversary—now signing off on emergency surgery for another woman. He didn't even blink before writing "husband" on the form. Still had our wedding ring on, too. He didn't recognize me behind the mask. Just grabbed my hand and begged. "Please save her. It's my fault. She's pregnant. I messed up. I love her. I can't lose her." His grip tightened. My wedding ring slipped off and hit the floor. I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked into the OR. A doctor beside me, totally clueless, beamed and said, "Dr. Meyer, your test results came back—twins! Your husband's gonna be so happy. Congrats!" I smiled, barely. "Schedule the termination after surgery."

There are creatures lurking in the shadows waiting to struck fear to their preys, one of the elusive ones is the King of the shifters, Ruler of the Werewolf Realm, Alpha of the Alphas. Alpha Alexander, a man who bends for nothing and no one ...... That is until he met his mate. A woman destined to bring him to his knees. YOU CANNOT FIGHT AGAINST DESTINY. Humans have always been so oblivious to the world that they live in. They think that they are at the top of the food chain well infact they are and will always be our preys. 2 decades ago when creatures of the night emerged from the shadows and showed themselves out in a public eye. What human believed as myths were actually living with them all along. The reality is way harsher than it seems. ****** I could feel his lips against my neck as he trailed kisses, possibly leaving marks on his path. My hands were pinned by his left hand above my head while his other hand is busy roaming my body. His body was flushed against mine as my back is firmly planted against the wall. I could feel his arousal pressed against mine. His kisses were like a drug, I could feel my body responding to him. Just as I was about to let out a breathy moan I was shaken out of my reverie. Knowing that I am letting my enemy violate me was enough to make my blood boil. "Let me go! I swear to the moon goddess if I break free from your grip, I will chop off your balls and feed them to the oooomp-" I was cut off mid sentence when his lips crashed down to mine. ******