Strong And Beautiful Novels & Stories

That was exactly right. "You are magnificent," Echo said quietly. "You are strong. You are courageous. You choose existence despite suffering. Choose being despite torture. Choose continuation despite agony. That is strength. That is courage. That is beautiful. You are magnificent. I am honored. I am awed. I am humbled. You are magnificent. Thank you. Thank you for choosing. Thank you for deciding. Thank you for committing. You choose existence. Despite everything. That is beautiful. That is powerful. That is exactly right. You are magnificent."

It was enticing and beautiful but yet strong and masculine. A voice spoke within me, thick with desire. “ Mate…”

— accelerated pre-point of emotion that the smile infected whoever saw it. They are beautiful colors — he replied, room from a combination of pastel tons, very soft the color of the ladies a light blue so beautiful and elegant that do not doubt that everything looks good — I think it is an excellent decision — ends by saying, she points with dud, it was not Madeleine herself her eyes were not as alive as before. — Is everything okay? — If he approached her where they shared the kitchen table, all the very attentive states in the main comedian leaving everything ready for desire, as well as being alone,

It was like she suddenly had the strength only alphas can possess. “You don't need to fear about hurting me, I am stronger now than you can imagine” Cara whispered in my ears, licking my ear in the process. She was tempting me. And surely it worked. Letting all thoughts out of the window, I focused on the sexy beautiful goddess in my front. She was now stronger, and I could feel the unimaginable strength coursing inside of her. I had a feeling that even if I used all my strength, I would not leave a scratch on her skin. That was how strong she had become all of a sudden.

You're special because you arrived at the time no one expected. You won't feel my presence much, for I'm pretty sure your Mother will fill all voids. She's capable. She's the strongest woman I know. If she's determined, she conquers everything and anything. Nothing can get in her way. I call her superwoman. She's brave, and beautiful too. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

“Alright, let’s make it quick.” Marley moved to the side of his desk and poured two glasses, the amber liquid swirling as it filled each crystal tumbler. Jonathan watched her, captivated by the way her fingers deftly handled the bottle, and the slight tilt of her head as she concentrated on her task. For the briefest moment, he allowed himself to appreciate the beautiful woman who stood before him, a mosaic of strength and complexity. “Here’s to hard work and teamwork,” she said, raising her glass high, her green eyes sparkling with earnestness.

I groan, letting my head fall back as I slide in and out of her throat as if it were her pussy. She grumbles something, but I can't hear her. "So fucking perfect," I say, as I gaze down at the beauty before me. It's the truth. So many men praise their women, calling them beautiful or perfect, but with Adrianna, it's the goddamn truth. I haven't found one weakness in her. She's strong, independent and more beautiful than any girl I've ever laid eyes on. "I'm going to come down that throat," I growl, forcing it even deeper so she gags more forcefully. My cock swells in her mouth. "And I want you to swallow every drop for me, baby girl."

She hid all her pains behind her smiles. I wondered why people referred to her as weak, in my eyes, she is strong. It only takes a strong person to pass through all these things and still manage to put on a smile on her face. “You’re beautiful”. “We’re you even listening to all I have been saying?” She asked pouting. “Not sure”. “You keep saying am beautiful, but I don’t feel the same, I feel dirty.”. Was she even serious? How can she say she is not beautiful? If only she knew how stunning she was.

Something stronger. Something she could never break. ---

This was up close, personal, mine to appreciate. The broad shoulders, the defined chest, the powerful arms that had carried me so easily. A network of fine scars and old bruises told stories of a life of labor. He was beautiful. Not pretty. Beautiful in the way a storm or a mountain is beautiful—powerful, untamed. I bit my lip, a low moan escaping me before I could stop it. His eyes darkened further at the sound.