Shameless Ch 1 の小説・ストーリー

Elara sat across from Corvan in the quiet of his study, the report between them, and let the moment hold its weight without rushing to fill it. "You are ashamed of your first thought," she said finally. "I want you to understand something about that. Shame is useful. It tells you something. But it is also not the most important thing in this room right now, and if you let it become the most important thing, it will do exactly what your first instinct wanted to do, just from a different direction."

The digital silence felt like a heavy stone on my chest. I rolled onto my back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. I felt exposed, fragile, and more awake than I had been in years. The life I was supposed to lead,the football, the family name, Eleanor’s cool, predictable beauty, felt like a costume I could no longer zip up. The shame wasn't about the act; the shame was about the desire. The shame was realizing that the man who held my fate in his hands was the only person who made me feel like I was actually breathing.

I dropped into a flawless, practiced slide-kneel—one knee on the floor, both hands holding up the scissors, loyalty written all over my face, my voice booming with shameless devotion. "Please, Your Majes—uh, I mean, Mr. Harrington, see the truth! Every fingerprint on these scissors belongs to Ryan! Just test them! My loyalty to you is as vast as the sky and as steady as the mountains—why would I ever destroy your gift?" The Sanders family's faces went green. Violet pointed at me in fury. "Pete! Do you have no shame?! Groveling like that brings nothing but disgrace to the Sanders name! What is wrong with you?!"

"Nobody is allowed to help her! Let her stay out there and think about what she's done! This is what happens when she doesn't follow the rules!" Startled, Matt quickly pulled his head back in and slammed the window shut with a bang. I stood outside the locked iron gate, staring at the building that had once been home. The lights on the 12th floor were on, with two silhouettes snuggling together against the curtains. So, Leigh had already moved in. They were enjoying the spoils of victory in their warm room, while I was left homeless on this cold night with Munchkin, who was barely ten days old.

There was no one who was more dangerous than a jealous she Wolf. Praises she was hearing about Alice wasn't helping matters. Not wanting to accept defeat, she immediately ran to the podium and tapped the microphone, completely gaining everyone's attention like she wanted. Everyone dispersed to their seat apart from Sebastian who was still blatantly admiring Alice, Josh, and Mother Theresa. “Hello everyone, I'm Chloe, Alpha Steve's daughter, and I'll like to make a speech to all ears”. Warning: steamy chapter ahead

Not quite as hard as the first time I'd seen it, but still heavy, frightening, impossible not to stare at. Shame swept through me, mixing with an ache so fierce it almost hurt. My thighs pressed together tightly under my dress, a desperate, useless attempt to hold back the wetness slipping between them. “Tell me the honest truth,” he murmured, stepping closer, voice cruel in its softness. “Do you like what you see?”

How she’d squirted with a stranger’s eyes on her cunt. She bit her lip and squeezed her thighs together. She hated him. She hated herself for loving it. The bathroom door opened. Chloe stepped out in nothing but a towel, hair damp, skin dewy. “Well, well, look who’s still wallowing in post-orgasm shame,” she said, smirking. Camila rolled her eyes. “Don’t.” “Oh, come on, Mila. You slapped the man, but you moaned his name with your tits pressed to glass while strangers watched. Just admit you liked it.”

She came hard right there in the kitchen, moaning her stepbrother’s name like a prayer while her juices coated her trembling fingers. For a few blissful seconds, nothing else existed. Then reality slammed back in. Lila stared down at her hand in horror. Her dress was rucked up around her waist. Her fingers glistened with her own arousal. The phone had fallen onto the counter, the video still playing on loop. "Oh my God… what did I do?" she whispered, voice shaking. Tears pricked her eyes. "I’m disgusting. This is so dirty… I’m sick." She threw the phone down like it had burned her. Shame swallowed her whole. She was supposed to be pure. Innocent. Not the kind of girl who masturbated in the k

"The tenant is gone, Élianor. You feel it. What remains is the man who shared your bed and your secret. The one who came back. And you have just sealed that truth, with your lips and with your hand." I stand there, trembling in every limb, the hand that slapped still vibrating. Shame is a fire consuming me from within. Shame for having responded. Shame for having struck. Shame for being so transparent, so utterly known by him. Without another word, I turn around. I pull open the heavy door of the chalet and rush into the night and rain that have not ceased. The run across the garden is a nightmare, boots sinking into mud, the dripping robe weighing down each step like tangible guilt.

My voice becomes shaky, and I find myself squeezing Chris’ hands tighter. ‘You’re doing great. I’m right here, honey,” he gently soothes in my mind. All around I can hear the enraged whispers and shocked and disgusted faces. I want to run and hide from them, and I can feel the shame creeping up, but I force myself to remember Chris’ words. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I did nothing wrong, what happened was not my fault. It doesn’t speak to who I am as a person but what kind of a monster he was. I won’t live my life in fear and shame anymore.