Sweetest Synonym Novels & Stories

, I laugh, finding it hilarious. “ Come to think of it, not the biggest. Maybe the biggest is loving you more than I love my peace.” His words make me stop and look at him closely. “ What a coincidence, because it is also mine! Everything would be easier without an us.” “ But the easiest path is not always the one that will make us feel fulfilled, and the "us" is happening!

we're worth it! From the sweetness of sugar to everything that brings emotional sweetness to the heart and soul, that we call our loved ones "sweet" is a tribute to human nature. Our ability to see these connections, to short-circuit our own brains by using the same word for such disparate concepts, is writ large in our use of words. For when we use a word with dual definitions, the brain triggers all definitions at first, before choosing the intended one. In this moment the natural addiction to sugar helps to keep our loving bonds strong, to enhance our addictions to relationships that are good and nurturing. He was the sweetest of children, always ready to lend a hand, always quick with a

Something softer had entered his expression. I hated it because softness led to expectations, and expectations led to disappointment. "Don't look at me like that," I said. "Like what?" "Like you like me." He blinked. For once, Max had no answer. I tilted my head. "Interesting." "Dahlia." "Yes?" "I think you already know." The air between us changed. I looked at him. He wasn't smiling. Neither was I. "You shouldn't," I said. "Why?" "Because I'm not what you think I am."

she moaned and gently raised her waist to meet his. She realized that she liked this kind of pain. It was a sweet pain. Finn, on the other hand, was almost lost in pleasure. As he thrust inside her, he could feel her tight, warm and moist walls around him. His mind went blank. He felt like it was the best feeling in the world. “Hhn!” He groaned and held her tightly. “You are so sweet…” “Mn,” Jojo moaned out too. She could feel him inside her. She could feel his every move.

She was far too sexy, far too sexual, for that. When she lifted her dessert spoon to her lips and licked the last remnant of chocolate from the silver surface, her pink tongue so tempting, so provocative that he could have almost found his release just watching her work the spoon in that slow, sensual way, Maxim nearly groaned out loud. It was way too easy to imagine that tongue on his bare skin. “What’s your take on love, Maxim?” Michaela asked, lowering the spoon and setting it on the table, curious to find out his reply.

He smiled and looked back at me with his eyes gleaming brightly. He looked really happy but I was wondering how anyone would like to see me immediately after I wake up. I mean I always look like a ghost. He's being sarcastic, right? I asked myself as I looked back at him but all I see is seriousness but with a smile on his face. HE LOVES ME!!! My brain just finally registered this! I can be really slow at times. Me????? Lawrence Basma loves me. Ahh, my heart can't take it.

Barbara laughed hilariously at Steve for saying that, he also did not call her endearing names. Steve looked at her and was concerned, he did not understand why she was laughing. “I am sorry for laughing….but you also do not call me any nice name” she became serious now. “Okay, let’s strike a deal. From today, we will not call each other's names” Steve suggested. “We are going to choose names we will call ourselves, I will call you “sweetheart” is that okay? He asked Barbara. The young Mrs. Gillian rolled her eyes and smiled. “I think it’s fine” she giggled. “And I will call you my hero, you know you saved me yesterday and I will never forget. So you are my hero” she grinned. “I think that’s

The taste of Elena flooded Samantha's mouth as she licked upward, her tongue exploring the maid's folds, salty and slick. Jake's thrusts rocked them all, his grunts mixing with Elena's muffled moans against Samantha's clit. Sweat dripped from Jake's forehead onto Samantha's thigh, cooling quickly.

It’s her gift—making you feel wonderful or horrible or wonderfully horrible, all depending on what she wants. 43: Ayame – The Sweetest Sting

Then, without planning to, I ask a question that surprises even me. “What is your favorite thing?” She turns her head toward me, clearly caught off guard. “My favorite thing?” she repeats. “Yes.” She thinks for a moment, then answers softly. “Quiet mornings. When everything is still and no one needs anything from me yet. Just coffee and silence.” The answer is simple, but it hits me harder than I expect. I glance at her again. The streetlights catch the side of her face and the way the dress clings to her body. I keep my eyes on the road and tell myself again to focus.