Novel & Cerita Stolen Touches

Something so out of my control. Something like her. The innocent touches had grown on me. I didn't shy away from them, nor did I want them to stop. The why was unexplainable, but the evidence was clear as shit, I- Alejandro Gonzalez liked sharing innocent touches. There was nothing wrong with that part, the part that was questionably moral was the Who I was sharing those innocent touches with. It was fucked up, for so many reasons. She was the last person I was to be touching. But somewhere in my mind I had deemed it acceptable because those touches didn't mean anything. They were innocent and mutually beneficial.

Abeer replied and cut the call immediately and left the bed to open the door, hiding his mobile in his pocket to know the reason behind Khushi's screaming. *** "Ummm... Ummmm...", Stella tried to scream for help but of no use as the thief had shut her mouth tightly with his hands. The thief grabbed the chance and flipped his position in his favor. Now Stella was beneath him and he was on top of her. Their eyes met and for the first time Stella stopped screaming and started staring at the thief's big brown eyes like she knew him for so long. The thief, too, removed his hand from her mouth, realizing that she would not shout anymore.

"That's wonderful news! I have to tell your brother about it! Your friend needs to pass all the tests first. We have to make sure that he isn't some scum." "You don't have to—" I wanted to stop her, but she'd already picked up her phone at that moment. "Oh, he's back," she suddenly said, setting down her phone and looking at the door. Graham pushed the door and walked in, holding a long itemized bill. His eyes darkened when he saw me holding hands with Leanna. "What were you guys chatting about? What's with the smiles?" He walked over and naturally pulled Leanna into his arms by her shoulders.

His was solid muscle that I wanted inside me. “Who did the stolen goods belong to?” He whispered in my other ear as he kept toying with me. I felt my juices touch my inner thigh as all I wanted was for him to put his fingers in me. He let go of my head and trailed his fingers down my neck and along my breast. My breath was shaky and my nipples hard enough to see from the outside of my dress. His fingers grazed over them and he trailed down my front. My leg was sticking out of my slip as his hand landed on my thigh. Squeezing it, he antagonizing slow and moved to my inner thigh that was slick with my juices. His lips continued to graze my neck as he began to place soft kisses on a sensitive s

he detached my hands "Everything about you is beautiful and I love every inch of it” He rolled his tongue over my nipple making me arch my back as I moaned his name. I hugged him tightly so that I could feel him more. "damn it! I love the feeling," my mind was in haywire. He removed my panties and let me spread my legs “Baby, this would hurt you but I’ll be gentle” as he looked at my eyes filled with lust.

Instead I despise my body for the way it’s betraying me, leaning into his touch like a starved animal. His hand is so warm. It’s a clinical, warrior’s massage, but it’s also a violation. It’s the same casual, proprietary intimacy of the stirrup, of the waterskin. He’s touching me as if he has the right. As if I’m his property to maintain.

Its tone hardened, just a touch. “Everything you think is yours,” it whispered, “everything you touch, every fragment of you—already cataloged, numbered, claimed. You are nothing without my consent.” The offer was horrifying. It was also, in some ugly corner of my tired brain, unbelievably tempting. Something brushed my hand. Not ink. Not text. Warmth. Fingers, rough and calloused, groping blindly through the void until they closed around mine. Corvin.

He adds a third finger and stretches me open and my vision blurs at the edges and I lock my knees and press my free hand flat against the counter and stare right at him and keep talking. “He gets sunflowers and called ahead and goodnight at the door.” His thumb finds my clit and starts a slow relentless circle and a whimper tears out of me that I barely catch in time. “And you get this. Stolen. In a kitchen. While your girlfriend eats cake twenty feet away.” “Don’t talk about her—” “Why not.” I tighten my hand over his cock and feel him pulse hot and thick through the fabric and watch his jaw clench. “Does it bother you? Her name right now while your fingers are knuckle deep inside me?”

He paused, then looked at me. "If you want, I can alter its structure. Break the connection. I can even make it backfire on the person who cast it." So that was how it was… No wonder she became some so-called 'lucky streamer.' She was not lucky. She was burning through my luck, stealing my life. "How much?" I asked without hesitation. "I don't charge," he replied, calm and firm. "Stopping things like this is a good enough reason." I froze for a second, then immediately handed him the paper.

Not only that, he also burst her little bubble of fake happiness which was nothing but a freaking part of a blood game. Stella should not but she did feel pathetic when his fingers fondled with her breast quite roughly. She inwardly mourned as she felt it was wrong. Her breasts were Max's to fondle with, Her body was supposed to be touched by him, Stella reckoned. But the truth was, it was Nelson who should be doing it. But it was a sheer disappointment that under Nelson's touch she felt disgusted. "Answer me Stella!" He exclaimed, pinching her nipple that has turned into a hard pebble.