Novel & Cerita Swallowed My Pride

he pleaded. And then she did. She couldn't help herself. The first swallow came out naturally, almost on its own, and then the second, and then the third, and after that, it was as if the floodgates had opened, because by then she could do nothing to stop it. She felt it flow down her throat and into her stomach, warming her up from the inside - and it was quite a pleasurable feeling even though it made her feel incredibly embarrassed, and the taste was difficult to get used to.

“Shit!” Immediately, I stood up from bed and quickly dashed into the bathroom. While I washed myself up, I couldn't help but feel a little painful. Just then, I recalled what happened last night, and I heaved a long sigh. That shouldn't have happened, I wonder what came over me. I can't believe I have lost my pride to a man I hardly knew. But then, compared to the so-called mate who chose my sister, I think losing my pride to a stranger isn't that bad.

I said and he sighed "I'm sorry" "Let Axel have me then , you even let him take me" I said not wanting to see his reaction "Pride made me like that , I hate admitting it in front my friends because they will tease me for being whip" "Pride.." I laughed bitterly "Now they know about my feelings and I feel better about it. They teased me but I just love that I can admit my feelings freely" He stated "I really want to throw chocolate at you and force you to eat it so your allergy will come out" I said coldly

Owned. I swallowed, forcing my jaw to relax. My mother’s voice continued beside me, but the words felt distant, lost beneath the thrum of my own heartbeat. I forced my lips into a small, polite smile as I delivered my speech. I spoke about her work, about inspiration and ambition, weaving elegance into my words as if each one could mask the fire roiling inside me.

I was a ghost in plain sight. I lay there, face pressed against the dirt. Dust in my hair. Sweat on my cheek. Heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst. Pride? Tiny, fragile thing. Gone. My knees felt like broken stone. My stomach knotted. My hands scraped raw trying to push myself up. “Pathetic,” someone muttered. I smiled. Not a real smile. The kind that says whatever, just leave me alone. “Yeah,” I whispered to myself. “Pathetic. Totally.”

He ordered, voice tight and velvety, as he pulled out, streaks of cum leaking out. I obeyed, and swallowed it down. The heat burned down my throat, thick and obscene, and for one dizzying moment shame, pride, and something sharper than both tangled inside me. Pride — because I’d wrung this from him. Shame — because I’d wanted it. And defiance — because I refused to let him see which one won.

I wanted to apologize to him, but somehow my pride didn't let me utter those words. I slowly walked away from him and sat on one of the twin swings, thinking about my words. I'd never been one to speak without thinking. I was always calm and collected. But being with Adrian made me lose my control, which irritated me. I'd worked so hard to gain control over myself and appear collected. I didn't want one person to destroy everything just by being present around me.

And I was confident I could pull it off. But, no. The presence of that fumbling fool had given her a sharp mouth and a cold heart, and I was unable to break down her walls. There were no words to describe my anger and disappointment. I had taken a hard blow today, my pride had been hurt. I was completely disregarded and disgraced by a bunch of fools I could have easily killed with one snap of my fingers.

Or maybe it was because lately I'd been carrying enough emotional confusion to last several lifetimes. Either way, I was tired of assumptions; of whispers. Tired of everybody treating me like an accessory attached to somebody else's life. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night." The answer earned a visible tightening of her jaw. "You still have pride." I slowly closed my textbook, the sound drawing her attention immediately. "Excuse me?" "After everything, you still have pride." The insult was obvious, the intention behind it even more so.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Scarlett. And I’m proud of you.” The words hit me harder than I expected. Praise wasn’t something I was used to. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had said they were proud of me without mocking me afterward. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I lowered my gaze, embarrassed by how much it meant. “I’ve never really… been praised for anything,” I admitted quietly. “Not in a way that made me feel like it mattered.” His expression softened further. “It matters now.” I smiled then, small but genuine, clutching my laptop against my chest. For the first time in so long, I felt good. I felt capable.