Sin City: A Dame To Kill For Mga Nobela at Kwento

Where’s the damn girl code? Honestly, Mia is holding up pretty well for just doing a Julia Roberts and becoming the runaway bride. Her fiancé, Damon, will be losing his mind over her disappearing, mainly because his ego just got a big fuck you to the face. You see, Damon is one of those precious species known as a professional football player, a legend on the field. To all those who worship the ground he walks on because he can kick and catch a ball or something like that. He’s a man who no one says no to. Not even his gorgeous fiancée’s soul-sucking best friend. I never liked Tracy. There was always something off about her, like single white female off. But Mia loved her and because of that

“Did I just hear you moan my name, Simone?” I look at him, eyes heavy-lidded with desire. I’d just come undone thinking about him, of course I’d say his name. “Yes, Daddy…” I murmur, biting down hard on my lower lip as I let my knees fall apart, unashamed of the glistening moisture slicking my thighs. “Or should I say Father King? Or Professor King?” I let out a low breath, tracking the dark, dangerous shift in his eyes. “I prefer Daddy though, but I’ll call you whatever gets your hands on me.” ~~~~ Simone Grayson slept with a stranger one reckless night and discovered too late that he was someone off-limits. He turned out to be her professor and was supposedly owned by God.

He walked directly up to the protesters and looked them in the eyes as he began to speak to the masses. “Welcome to my city, the new Detroit. I have come with my army to take this city in honor of my beloved. Today on the anniversary of her birth I am now renaming this ‘Syn city’ and dedicating it to Synestra.” He announced. The protesters pulsed with anger, screaming obscenities. “Defy me if you wish, you will not see a quick or painless death, for I will be sure to make your death as painful and drawn out as possible.” With that the protestors exploded in a fit of rage. The older lady at the front, who I am sure is named Karen, spit on Damien’s face. I knew instantly that he was going to k

“Oh oh I am coming----Damien!! Fuck me! Harder! Harder!!!!” Was that Damien the name the woman was calling? **Damien's POV** * I pounded hard into Cindy's fat ass, imagining her as that bitch Elizabeth, and cumming deep inside her like opening champagne. Cindy let out a frog-like howl of excitement that was very ear-piercing. I slapped her hard on the ass, "Keep it down, bitch!" "Damien, oh you were great!" "Shut up! If that dummy had not stood me up, it would not have been your turn to win the jackpot!"

Emits the frigid deadly reply. The cashier looks beyond frightened as his gaze flits between the demon and me hauled over his shoulder. I continued sobbing, unable to stop. "STEP ASIDE... NOW." The demon growls. The cashier rushes away from us and the demon takes brisk strides out of the kitchen. I cover my face with the palms of my hands in shame when we step into the restaurant's dining area. All of the customers were gaping at us.1l "Hey! Put that sister down!!" A man protests, getting up from his chair. I recognize him as Saleh Adam.

(Sequel To Sinful Seduction) When a 21-year-old Kathleen finds out that her Infamous Model boyfriend: Ryker Malarkey is done with her, she feels compelled to leave his house and live on the streets until he finds out she is pregnant with his baby. The handsome, charming, and rich Ryker forces her to marry him so that he gets to keep his baby near him while he belittles Kathleen for being a stripper in the past. Will Ryker ever redeem himself or will he continue to use her at night and trash her in the morning?

Too peaceful. Her lips were slightly parted, lashes long, one hand curled near her cheek. She looked innocent. Way too innocent. I should’ve hated her. I wanted to hate her. But instead, I was staring like a lovesick idiot. Hell no. What the fuck was wrong with me? I leaned back, exhaled slowly. I needed to get my shit together. This girl was off-limits. She was the daughter of the man who killed my spirit, destroyed everything I cared about.

I want her lying awake, listening for sounds that never come. "She notices she's being followed, but she acts as if she isn't" I murmur to Xander, amusement curling in my chest. I could end this quickly. Break down her door, Demand payment, Leave her shaking and crying and not in the best kind of way either. and leave London completely. Get back to my life in New York and still kill Jerry motherfucking Harrison. She's just a woman in a big city. A bookstore attendant. Has a quiet life. Is Shy. Meek. Bland. Spoilt.

The television volume was low, but no one in the Sinclair living room missed a single word. Their steaming cups of morning coffee sat on the center table untouched, eyes glued to the screen on the wall. The headline crawled across the bottom of the screen in bold white letters: ATTEMPTED KIDNAPPING SHAKES ASTER LANE, PROMINENT BUSINESSMAN DAMON SINCLAIR INVOLVED. The reporter’s voice was detached, the way people sounded when they were discussing tragedies that had nothing to do with them.

~Bianca's POV~ Time didn't just stop—it caved in, and I forgot the cold, the shouts, the flashes; the world faded until there was only him. Damien Sinclair. He looked exactly how I remembered. No, better. Jet-black hair slicked back from that sharp, sculpted face. A black T-shirt clung to his chest, grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips. Casual. Effortless. Completely out of place in a cemetery, but somehow, he owned the moment anyway. The power in his posture and the calm precision of his movements.