Novel & Cerita She Won't Forgive

Book 1# - Be careful what you wish for Book 2# - Carefully she had wished This books shows the origin of Xavier and Rosemary. Xavier and Rosemary were past lovers , but due to King Alexander their lover story is that of a horror story. This book is merely a flashback that Rose had seen from the previous book

At the moment, my dick was gracefully ready start working with her pussy, she felt a little be shy, but when I rubbed onto her and dipped two fingers in it, my shyness was replaced with intense pleasure, fuck it felt too good to ignore. “Ahhh,” she moaned, as i slipped the third finger into her pussy. “I will ensure you come for me six times before calling it a day,” I said, huskily. came to my front, while he kept fingering her pussy, mercilessly. I forcefully pushed my hard cock into her mouth, till it touched the back of my throat. “Suck it,” i instructed and without thinking, she started sucking my cock, while I fingered from behind. The pleasure was intense, her legs began to shake, and she couldn't suck any further, she just wanted to moan, but my cock prevented her. When i noticed she couldn't suck my cock any further, I started fucking her mouth, while my fingers fucked her asshole. “You have a fucking nice ass, and I would enjoy fucking it,” I grunted, pressing his fingers in my pussy. Soon, she was coming all over the place, and my eyes had already rolled back, but that didn't make me stop fingering or mouth fucking me. I fucked her mouth till my come fills them. “Drink it,” I instructed and in one swallow my cum was down her throat and to be honest…. She want more? As she shakes with pleasure, her moan turns deep, and she whispers, “She wants more”—a need that will break everything apart. will this forbidden ecstasy unravel their secrets or seal their fate?

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

After I was reborn, I was the one who changed the name on my blood bond with Prince Mortlock. I wrote in “Isabella”—the other vampire he’d always cherished, always protected. When Isabella wanted the ruby necklace, the one that marked the Prince's Mate, I let her have it. The wedding dress Mortlock had prepared for me? I gave that to Isabella, too. I did it all because in my past life, I got my wish. I became Mortlock’s mate, but I lived every moment in Isabella’s shadow. In the end, during a battle with vampire hunters, Mortlock ran to a wounded Isabella first. I was the one left to take a silver stake through the heart. So this time, I decided to let them be. To stay far away from Mortlock. But this time, the cold, distant Prince wept and begged me to be his mate again.

She was reborn soft, sweet, and touched — surrounded by women who never learned to let go. Evangeline “Eva” Claire Maxwell — Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury — a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves. In a world without magic, desire is its own spell. And love? It’s the most dangerous kind of possession.

On the third day of our cold war, my Alpha mate, Cain Beckett, purposefully takes his secretary, Vera Anderson, on a trip to Roseville. He thinks I'll kick up a fuss hysterically like before. But when he returns one month later, he realizes that I've completely changed. When Cain snatches away the territory negotiation task that I'm in charge of and passes it to Vera, I no longer fight back angrily. Instead, I take the initiative to arrange the documents and prepare the paperwork for her. In order to help Vera stand out on the night of the full moon, Cain rejects the project proposal I've spent three months working on in front of everyone. I no longer fight with him over it. Instead, I shoulder all the punishment quietly. Even when Cain decides to bend the rules by making Vera the Beta of the pack, I still remain cool and composed. Heck, I even smile and agree with his decision. Vera takes Cain's hand while saying coquettishly, "See? I told you that you can't fight fire with fire when it comes to people with Leah's personality. You need to neglect her for her to be more understanding. She must have been terrified of losing you because of the way you listen to me and no longer spoil her. That's why she's being so docile." Of course, Cain has complete trust in Vera. He praises her for being clever. In order to reassure me, he even promises me that he'll officially mark me during the next full moon. I just shake my head in return. Nah, I don't need it. I don't need Cain's mark anymore. After all, I'll be leaving the pack soon. From now on, I'm cutting all ties with Cain Beckett. We won't have anything to do with each other anymore.

At one of the exclusive private casino parties, my eyes landed on a diamond tiara. The catch? It was the prize for a high-stakes blackjack game. Luckily, poker happens to be one of my many sins. A girl named Elara—whom I once pitied enough to introduce to Throne, hoping she’d land a job—has now declared she wants the tiara too. Naïve. Probably thought beginner’s luck was a real thing. I figured, fine. Let the cards decide. If I win, I walk away with the tiara. If I lose, I’ll find another way to soothe my pride. Easy enough. Thorne, my ever-watchful husband, leaned in and murmured, “Go easy on her.” I didn’t. I won. Beat the dealer faster than her and won the tiara. That girl cried at the table. Thorne didn’t look impressed for once. He rather seemed... irritated. I thought it was for Elara’s sake. Turns out, it was for mine. A year later, same party, different stakes. The grand prize? My own sex video. While holding Elara in his arms, my husband said to me, voice almost amusing, “Don’t you like winning prizes? Then go on. Win our sex tape back.”

My mate, Alpha Ryan, started skipping my healer's appointments after I got pregnant. He always blamed pack business. But I found him at the clinic anyway. He was with another pregnant she-wolf—his childhood friend, Bonnie. He held her with a tenderness he no longer gave me. "I'll take responsibility for this child," he promised her. "He'll be safe." His words shattered my world. Their child? I stormed in to confront them and saw it: his temporary mark on her neck. He swore the pup wasn't his. He claimed a rogue attacked her and the mark was only for protection. His lie was a knife twisting in our mate bond. I was carrying his pure-blooded heir. But he let the pack brand my child a bastard, while hailing her half-blood pup as his true heir. To protect Bonnie, he locked me in a silver-laced cell. The silver was a living death. He didn't realize his mistake until I took the forbidden herbs, sacrificing our child and collapsing in a pool of my own blood. Only then did he cradle my broken body, begging for a forgiveness I would never give.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

I've had a crush on my fiancée for years, and we're finally about to get married. Yet I'm willing to jump off a building just to avoid marrying her—all because I've been reborn. In my past life, she and I were married for over two decades. We were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. However, the fairy tale came to an abrupt end on our 25th wedding anniversary. She took her own life, and she did it with her true love. As I kneeled before her grave, I asked, "Did you regret marrying me?" I knew I wouldn't hear her response, so I answered myself. "I regret marrying you." When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before the wedding happens. I decide to run away. This time, I want us to become nothing but estranged acquaintances. To my surprise, she comes to me, looking like she's terminally ill. She says, "I've never regretted marrying you. Whether in this lifetime or the past, you're the only one I've ever wanted to marry."