Tangan Kasar Novels & Stories

she winced and whimpered in pain Tazz stepped on her hand that touched him earlier, the girl broke out in a loud scream as he crushed her hand ruthlessly “How dare you b*tch? how dare you touch me? who gave you the guts to do that? I hate women, especially ones like you who can do anything for men and money,” Tazz looked at Mahira’s face, now all sweaty and red in pain, she cried in despair as he continued to crush her hand, a satisfied demonic look flashed across his own face as he saw her hurt and in pain “Bro.. bro.. BRO stop it,” Anuj was called in time by one of the clients in the room to come and handle Mr. Tazz Jindal who had become ruthless and barbaric due to some incident a few mon

But damn concentration! My palm made contact with his sharp jaw. I was afraid the jaw could cut my hand with how smooth it was, but why is it so soft? “What's that? A tickle?" Casper laughed humorously. “You did not just call that slap a tickle!" My eyes widened in horror. What kind of man is this?

Which was a damn crying shame, and a situation she’d rectify pronto. Skylar admired his meaty biceps and thick forearms as she ran the washcloth along his brawny arms. The back of his hands were scarred and scabbed; the palm side of his hands were callused and rough. The hands of a working rancher. She knew these strong hands could rein in a thousand-pound horse, or fix barbed wire fence or even knock a man out cold. But she also knew how unbelievably gentle these powerful hands could be on her body. On her face. On their child.

But as soon as my shoulder came in contact with his, his hands tightly gripped into my arm and slammed my back against the wall. "Don't you ever walk away from me, or disrespect me like that again." He spoke lowly as he stared deeply into my eyes and continued tighting the grip he had on my arm. I nervously shook my head as I didn't want him to retaliate and physically hurt me. "Good." He said as his grip loosened and his hands somehow found their way to my bra, unhooking it swiftly. He attached his lips to my neck, sucking on a sensitive piece of skin causing a slight moan to escape my lips.

A towering figure, tall and massive, walked with an air of intimidation. The man's physique was imposing, muscles straining against the fabric of his dark shirt. His skin was a tapestry of scars and tattoos, each one telling a story of a life lived on the fringes of society. This was Macho, a man known for his brutality and ruthlessness in the criminal underworld.

She gripped his shirt as she cried out the pleasure. Well, her dress was made from a thin silky material, of dark color. Her undies were of a lace material. What he did isn’t exactly difficult. She moaned aloud when he drummed her with those fingers. His other hand was already busy pulling the dress up and touching her bare skin. The cool air hit her legs and her arousal heightened. Why does cold air make you burn hotter? She has no idea. It took him only a few seconds before the barrier of her clothing was removed and he was touching her directly, his fingers reaching her deeper.

Victor’s fists clenched as he approached the central office, where their leader, a cunning man named Ivan, was waiting. Ivan smirked as Victor entered. “Ah, the mighty Victor. Finally, you’ve come out to play.” Victor didn’t waste time with words. In a flash, he lunged at Ivan, his movements fueled by rage and fierce. The room erupted into chaos as Victor’s team engaged Ivan’s men. The fight was brutal but swift, with Victor emerging victorious. He pinned Ivan to the ground, his voice a deadly whisper. “This ends now. You will never come near my family again.”

“Really nervous.” “I understand,” he replies, and I hear the rustle of his movement. Then, his hand finds mine, large and warm, engulfing my smaller one. His fingers are rough, calloused from a life I know has been anything but gentle. His thumb strokes the back of my hand in a soothing rhythm, a touch that feels both strange and familiar.

“Yes, I love it—I love it—” His hand moves up and grabs my breast, rough and greedy. He squeezes hard, then rolls my nipple between his fingers until I’m gasping, squirming. It’s not gentle, and I don’t want it to be. His hands are rough, callused, and they feel just as good as the rope, maybe even better. “These tits were made to be played with,” he growls. “Could fuck you all night and still wouldn’t get tired of touching you.”

The most gentle one yet the rudest one. ~~~ VOTE & COMMENT<3