She Keeps Staring At Me の小説・ストーリー

Note:this book does not contain incest and both characters are not related in anyway. “Do you know what I do to little girls who want to slut themselves around ?” “ I fuck them, I don’t make love Nora , I don’t kiss and I most definitely do not touch , I fuck you and treat you like the dirty little slut that you are”. When 18 years old Nora finds herself having feelings for her uncle, she tries to fight the dirty feelings , as they were seen as a taboo but what she didn’t know how long she was going to fight them . Was she going to let her feelings consume her

It's been five years. Five years since we broke up and the last time I saw him. And yet I still can't get him out of my head. He returns to my thoughts and my dreams, completely uninvited and unwelcome. Even though I'm assigned now and I should think of my friend, not him. But he was the first. The first one that has captivated my heart and body and I still can't seem to forget somewhere inside. But I can pretend. Everything is fine because he moved out and we don't see each other anymore. My life goes on and I am happy. Happy. OLLIE F**king five years. Five years of suffering, loneliness and anger. I never wanted to break up with her. I should never have let her go. She took everything from me and I could never breathe fully after she left. There were others, but none like her. But I could still pretend that my life was not such hell. But now ... now I'm going back to the city where it all started. I'm going back to take what's mine. Because she always belonged only to me

When Serena learns that the new investor at her design firm is Ethan Cole, her husband, she already knows she is about to lose. Not because her work is weak, but because her rival Yvonne is Ethan's unforgettable first love. For years, Serena has fought Yvonne over everything: family, status, love, and now career. But after one more public humiliation, Serena finally stops competing. This time, she gives up Ethan and chooses herself.

The woman dreamed of sleeping on an incredibly soft and comfortable bed. Her skin was pampered by the smoothness of the vast expanse of fabric. Perhaps she was lying on a giant fluffy marshmallow. The pleasure made her smile, a wide grin that revealed her white teeth. Her hands moved around on the bed, enjoying the comfortable touch between her skin and the oh-so-soft fabric. When was the last time she enjoyed such a soft and comfortable bed? She wasn't sure. Maybe it was during her last business trip to London. Back then, Big Boss had rented a luxurious suite for her to stay in with his only child who couldn't be far from his daddy. The business trip felt more like taking care of a toddler. No, actually, she was taking care of two toddlers - Big Boss's favorite child and Big Boss himself, the big baby who was more troublesome than his little daughter, Nora. Hmn! The difference was that on this comfortable bed, she could get a good quality sleep. There were no interruptions from Big Boss's children, no annoying single daddy shouting.

Dr. Lori Johnson finds herself in the middle of a series of weird turn events. Though she was the one people relied on but in this she had to rely on a stranger. A mysterious man who likes the shadows but who was the best at what he did. The two crash into each other with a bang and they find something worthwhile.

“God—” “Not God,” he muttered against my neck, biting the skin there. “Me. Say my name.” “Dorian!” I cried, back arching. “That’s it.” He stroked faster, his thumb teasing over the tip, slicking me up. “Good boy. Take it.” Ezra Monroe was raised to be pure. The perfect choir boy. Twenty-two and untouched—soft voice and eyes that have never looked too long at sin. But one man ruins everything. Father Dorian Vale. The moment his eyes meet Ezra’s, something snaps. And a good boy learns how to kneel for the wrong man. He was supposed to guide him to heaven. Instead, he’s teaching him how to sin. He’s not here to save Ezra. He’s here to ruin him. Slowly. Until every prayer sounds like his name.

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

“Fuck me, Dante.” He was my uncle. Not by blood, but by name, by family, by everything that should’ve kept me safe from him. Instead, it made me his obsession. Dante Martinez—consigliere of the Italian mafia, the man who could dismantle empires with a single glance. One family dinner. One lingering gaze across the table. One move into his penthouse that became my undoing. He warned me not to test him. I ignored him. He promised he’d break me if I kept pushing. I pushed harder. Now I know what it means when a monster decides to love you—when his control snaps and you’re dragged into the darkness he rules. He says I’m his ruin. But Dante was never my salvation. He was always the sin I was born to crave.

Tragedy strikes when 5-year-old Isadora, a bright and beautiful girl, is blinded by unknown gunfire. Her devoted mother, Mrs. Lisa, is determined to restore her daughter's sight, but their financial struggles and lack of resources seem insurmountable. As Mrs. Lisa desperately seeks help, she faces rejection and heartlessness from Mrs. Elena, the wealthy and cruel wife of Mr. Frank. However, a glimmer of hope emerges when Mrs. Elena agrees to help with the surgery costs if a donor can be found within two months. Isadora's resilience and kindness shine through as she navigates her new reality, and a chance encounter with Andrew, the son of Mr. Frank, brings a sense of connection and possibility. Will Isadora's sight be restored, or will her life forever be changed by this tragedy?

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.