Sinful Nights Of My Revenge นิยาย & เรื่องราว

What cards do you have in your hand I don’t know about? ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold. You ill-treated my generosity in that hotel room. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Prepare to lose a battle.’ ‘Is that what this is about – revenge? I think your jolly japes with Tannhäuser were compensation for any humiliation caused by being a pawn in my game. You had a ball and all thanks to me.’ ‘Blackmail isn’t a game.’ ‘I haven’t blackmailed you.’

The two women kissed sloppily, sharing the mixed cum, licking it from each other’s skin while we watched. I looked down at Father Elias, spent and breathing hard. “Revenge is sweet, isn’t it, Father?” I said. “But this is only the beginning. Tomorrow night, the rectory becomes our playground. And you’re no longer in charge.” He nodded weakly, eyes glazed with lust and surrender. The girl and Sister Magdalene looked up at me, faces glazed, bodies trembling. “Eighty more nights,” I murmured, wiping a streak of cum from the girl’s cheek and feeding it to her. “And every single one will be filthier than the last.”

"I just set my life on fire for you. The least you can do is let me buy you dinner." I should say no. Should push him away. Should remind him that sixteen nights of revenge don't disappear because of one grand gesture. But I'm so tired of fighting. So tired of anger. So tired of carrying this weight alone. "One night," I hear myself say. "You get one night. But this doesn't change the deal. Doesn't change what you owe me." "I know. Fifteen nights left after tonight." He steps back. "I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something comfortable. We're not going anywhere fancy."

“We almost… in the sauna… I thought—” “That I’ll choose orgasms over revenge?” My eyes gouge, but I manage to tilt my head. “F-Foolish man. You can’t even kill a chick without the Mother hen pecking you for vengeance. Have you grown so drunk on my ass that you can’t even see the malice in my eyes— Hmm.” Tristan’s amber eyes turn molten. His hold fumbles on my neck, slowly, coming undone. I stabbed him in the morning and shot him at night.

“Cum slut, trash whore...fill me here, arrows to my holes. Is this really your specialty?” “Damn, baby.” I say with a devious look leaning in letting the blade cut me. “Sounds like you had quite the night.” “I will fuck you up, Raffaele Delacroix.” “Maybe you already did?” I shrugged. “But if you can’t remember, I have video tapes to help with your memory.” I tucked the blouse into her skirt. Her eyes widen, her mouth opening to say something else but Phil calls from down the hall. “Dinner, Kids!”

I scrambled, a naked, cum-stained crab, trying to get off the bed, to cover myself, to disappear into the floor. Embarrassment, cold and complete, flooded me. This wasn't a sexy fantasy. This was a nuclear-grade humiliation. This was my stepsister. "I was just... I was.." My brain had melted. "I KNOW what you were 'just' doing!" she roared, storming towards me. She snatched the 'Sinful Nights' magazine from the bed, rolling it up and swatting me across the shoulder with it. "In my ROOM! On my BED! With my CLOTHES!" She grabbed the bikini top from my limp hand, holding it like evidence of a crime. "You fucking sicko! A pervert! Wait till Mom comes home. She is going to end you."

“Every night I touch myself imagining your cock instead of my fingers. I fantasize about you bending me over the altar and fucking me raw while the crucifix watches. I’m so wet right now just telling you… my panties are ruined.” A long pause. I could hear his breathing grow heavier on the other side of the screen. “This is blasphemy. You must pray for forgiveness and leave immediately.” But he didn’t sound convincing. I pressed two fingers into my dripping cunt, letting the wet squelching sound carry through the booth. “I’ve been a filthy, sinful whore, Daddy. Your cock has been haunting my dreams since you married Mom. I want you to punish me. Use me. Fill your stepdaughter’s holes with hol

he gasps out my name like that will grant him forgiveness for his crimes on both me and the children, but it only makes me madder, causing me to stuff the knife roughly into his side, then extract the knife with ease to prepare for the real strikes I intend on inflicting. He gasps out in shock from the blade entering his side, likely piercing his cecum. But he continues with that ugly, cry-for-forgiveness type shit. “I swear I’ll make it up to you and all of the kids, okay?! I-I won’t ever touch or talk to anyone like that ever aga- FUCK!!!” I twist my blade in between his legs, shifting it to the right, then to the left, then up, then down- basically, every fucking movement that I can think

In remembrance! In remembrance! Lord Nox, the God of War, succumbed to the siege by the Ten Nations and perished in the treacherous Ocean of Death. The battleground witnessed not only the staining of azure waters but also a sea adorned with lifeless forms, as Lord Nox, with unmatched prowess, faced and conquered the formidable lions of the Ten Nations.Contrary to popular belief attributing Lord Nox's demise to the collective might of the Ten Nations, the truth unfolds that the one responsible for extinguishing his life was none other than the woman who held the deepest place in his heart.In the passage of time, Nox Greenshade stood atop the towering peaks, gazing upon the vast expanse below

My fingers brushed over the yellowing pages, going through the scribbles that seemed to look more frantic with the more pages I turned. I went back to the beginning. “The solace, 1579.” I whispered, brows furrowing. “Today is my last day on this godforsaken earth. I’ve been charged with treason. Laughable considering the fact that I could barely shift, much less kill the Lycan king. The goddess herself abandoned us. But it doesn’t matter. Because I will have my revenge. Perhaps even in this lifetime. But vengeance is patient.” A sharp knock made my heart jump.