Tall Dark And Handsome Novels & Stories

I said and continue walking. The silence grew more. Damn! Why are we still walking right now? I thought that the café was just near? I sighed heavily and glanced at Dark Hades that looks too handsome on his black hoody jacket. He has this aura that everyone would look at him without sweat. He can be a model actually! He’s tall and masculine. He’s manly and cool. His eyes are deep and brown, his brows is perfect and thick, his narrowed nose looks so confident, his lips are red and always in a thin line. And his jaw? It was perfectly engraved and everyone would think that he’s too perfect to be a human.

Every earthy, oversexed inch of him absolutely repelled her and there was a certain deadly attraction to that amount of revulsion… Christophe moved with the grace of a prowling tiger. He had the face of a dark fallen angel and the stunning magnetism of a very physical male. She studied the dark planes of his impassive features, the clear golden eyes set beneath winged black eyebrows and the savagely high cheekbones which lent such fierce strength to his face. Her gaze glossed over the stubborn jut of a decidedly Greek nose and the wide perfection of his narrow mouth before hurriedly falling away.

Clara’s POV The neon lights of the club always made my head ache, but tonight, the air felt heavier than usual. I was just a ghost in a uniform, moving through the thumping bass and the smell of expensive spilled liquor. When I was suddenly assigned to deep-clean the VIP suite on the third floor, I expected to find empty champagne bottles and silk ties. I didn't expect to find him. He was tall—sharp-edged like a jagged piece of glass—and devastatingly handsome in a way that felt dangerous.

He’s dressed in simple black robes, with a black embroidered sash, but even then I know he is an extremely powerful person. His black hair looks almost blue. It cascades down his back, and holds no crown. His pale, colourless skin only makes him look far more dangerous. He is handsome, in a terrifying way. He is tall and his hand is hooked in his belt as he steps inside and the doors shut behind him with a slam. I know who he is before he even speaks. The Eternal God… Everyone lowers their head to him, yet he doesn’t even spare them a second glass. His eyes now settled on me alone.

♠️MARLENE ♠️ The brand shoot was chaotic in the best way: flashing lights, makeup artists darting around, racks of designer clothes everywhere. I was back on my feet enough for light work, and this campaign paid too well to turn down. Bedrest had ended, but my ribs still twinged with every deep breath. I stood under the hot lights in an emerald gown, posing with that practiced smile, when I saw him cutting through the crew. Raheem. Tall, flawless skin, perfect waves in his hair, wearing a tailored suit like he owned the room. My fake fiancé. The one the tabloids still ate up, even with everything else exploding.

She continued, "I can give him your number and he can call and go over any other specifics with you. I realize it'll be dark but I don't know if there's anything special he wants you to wear or not wear, any special way he wants you to smell, that kind of thing. I think the whole premise of being in the dark is to heighten all of your other senses. He really wants the physical connection with you, without any pretense about who he is or who his family is or all that." Well damn, was he a celebrity? A singer or something? "What all did you tell him about me to make him decide I was the one magically?" She laughed. "He actually just started telling me about his dream girl and physically he was

"We've got drinks, sweets, dessert, condoms if you like dicks, cakes and smokes too." "I'll take a light beer." "Smirnoff then," she chose for me. "I'll be right back." Just as she left the disc jockey changed the music and began playing by A Bar Song by Shaboozey. Everyone went apeshit. Everyone but one man. And that was because he had just stepped into the building. My jaw dropped. He was the most handsome man I had ever set my eyes on. He was tall and lean, had dark hair, and I noticed a tattoo at the side of his neck. He looked around the place with a cold dark stare then his eyes landed in my direction.

Did he get in an accident that damaged his. Ugh. I glanced at him. He had that same dark expression on his face, looking so fuckable with his disheveled hair, red lips from the intense makeout session that we had, and his exposed upper body. Those deep v-lines and trails of fine hair on his lower abdomen tickle something in my imagination. How could I want him so bad despite knowing he wouldn't be able to fuck me? Damn it! I can still feel the dampness in between my thighs!

"Damn, girl. Or girls!? You both take that thing?" "Hell yes we do," Gemma said, then pulled her phone back and stepped back into the darkness. "Gad dayum," Tasha said, fanning herself again. "Well, there you have it, folks. You've heard of universal remotes and universally beloved celebrities. Now we know that there's such thing as a Universal Cock." Then she bowed towards you with her hands over her head in a worshipping gesture. "All hail the Universal Cock!" "All hail the Universal Cock!" the crowd cheered.

The weight of his hand resting on the small of my back. I fell fast and hard for his dark charm. I gave myself to him, letting him claim me, again and again. For four years, our affair was a secret hidden in the shadows. In that time, he sculpted my body, teaching it to crave his touch, molding me into his perfect obsession. Then she came back. Isabella, his exiled ex-fiancée. He sent his private jet for her. I swallowed my pride and crashed his reunion. An hour ago, his hands, still smelling of blood, gripped my chin. He forced his kiss on me.