Sweet Surrender Maya Banks Novels & Stories

I'm giggling and head straight to the massage table. The massage was relaxing, all the tensions were gone, Amy, the therapist overheard when I hung up on James. And she teased me to get the full-body wax treatment. "You know what Amy, I'll be brave and you can prepare that for me before I change my mind." ****** "God! I can't believe I finally get you to my self. This last couple of days has been a disaster." He hugged me and twirled me while kissing my neck.

I replied politely but distantly. Cassandra lamented on the phone, "Oh, Jamie. I know Matthew isn't lucky enough to be with a wonderful woman like you. But... But I just want to see you and say a few words to you in person. Otherwise, it'll weigh on my chest. I'm afraid… I'm afraid I won't be able to get over it." Her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke. I gripped the phone and stayed silent. She had also done this in my previous life. Every time Matthew wanted something from me, she would conveniently fall ill, feel something weighing on her chest, or feel like she was dying. Time and time again, I became soft-hearted and gave in.

“Please, fuck me, Zion.” She’d read so many words of love and begging for sex in her books, never expecting to use them herself. Zion had made it all possible. Maya was so grateful to him for buying her. The very thought of why she was grateful made her want to laugh. No woman should be grateful for being bought. “As my lady wishes.” He took her lips before drawing out of her body. She whimpered, not wanting him to leave her at all. “Trust me, baby. I’m going to make you scream before the end.”

Maya looked up at me, her eyes wide, searching for permission, for an escape, or perhaps for the promise of something even more incredible. "I don't know, Sarah," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't know if I'm ready for this." "I think you are," Sarah countered, her hand reaching out to cup Maya’s cheek. "I think you want this as much as I do. Look at you, Maya. You're dripping wet just from him."

"No." Lucas went still. Maya stepped around him and walked away without looking back. She returned to her dorm exhausted, ready to fall into her bed. The screen of her laptop glowed softly with a new email notification. Her heartbeat quickened as she opened it. The first line appeared. Congratulations. Then her eyes moved lower. Silverclaw Academy has approved your transfer request. Immediate enrollment is advised. Maya stared at the screen. Relief flooded through her. It was happening. She could leave…actually leave Mooncrest, the whispers, the pity and Lucas Blackwood

“Okay! Let’s Maya arrives-----“ William was talking while the door opened and Maya entered. “Oh! Talk of the devil!” Maya’s father giggled. Maya was looking dull and deeply unhappy. “Welcome back, my daughter. How’s did it go?” William asked. “Fine, Daddy!” Maya replied in dull tone. She didn’t stop walking. “Maya, Wait. One minutes please” William stopped her. Maya obeyed and took some steps backward. “Contact my bank Manager and send one hundred million to Prey’s account” The sad expression on Maya’s face suppressed a bit and she looked at her father with an expression.

Maya closed her eyes like it she did, all of this would go away or she would open them and it would all be one messy dream about Hunter Callum. But when she opened them again with a sigh, the interview still existed. Three minutes later, it suddenly dawned on her. Hunter was looking at her profile. Actively reading it. "Your favorite movie is—" "Stop." He looked up. "You haven't even heard it yet." "I don't want you knowing anything about me." "Little late for that." Maya glared and he continued reading. "'Sleepless in Seattle.'" She groaned. “It's a great movie.”

“The Millenium Dreams!” My heart pounded, and I immediately traced Sancha's line of sight. Just looking at them made me feel like I was in Mt. Olympus. They all look like gods...and goddess. Yes, a goddess. There's a girl who was talking and laughing with Zeeve innocuously. She has an angelic face as well. I don't recall hearing a female voice while listening to their band. Was she a member of their band? Or maybe it's Zeeve's girl?

she rejects. “White shirt, black skirt?” “You’re not a waitress babe, no offence to waitresses of course.” “Brown with white?” “Too light.” Finally, we settled on a dark green shirt and black skirt with heels. Walking inside the building of SweetHarvest Treats feels surreal. My dream job is so close that I can taste my success. I approached the receptionist. “I have an interview.” “For which post ma’am,” she asks, going through a list. “Graphic designer.”