Taylor Swift This Is Me Trying Lyrics

CONTENT WARNING. EROTICA ROMANCE: RATED 18+. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you want..." My senses were reeling, my body jerking against his hand. "I want you to fuck me," I said. "I want your gorgeous fucking cock in me..." "Nice," he smiled against my cheek. "More..." My voice was just a whisper. "I want to feel you inside... I want you to fuck me, hard... I want you to take my ass, and make me fucking squeal..." "You want to be stretched, little girl? Is that what you fucking want?" Oh fuck, my clit was clanging like a church bell. "Yes... Oh, fuck, please... I want you to stretch me..." "Gonna open you up so fucking wide," he growled. "Gonna take your fucking cunt with two fat cocks, stretch you nice and fucking big... two big fucking dicks in your sweet little pussy... gonna feel so fucking dirty... gonna feel so fucking tight..." "Yes..." "Wanna see inside you... into your pink fucking hole..." "Yes..." "Gonna make you wet... make you stretch... make you fucking gape for me..." The heel of his palm was so hard against my clit. "Fuck..." I ran my fingers down his chest, over his abs, until I found the swell in his pants. I squeezed him through his jeans. "Fuck me..." "I fucking shouldn't..." he groaned. "Fuck..." But he was grinding against my hand, moving over me. "Just a quick one. Hard and fast. Please..." "I can't..." he said. "I can't..."

What does heartbreak bring to you? Depression, rage, desire to either kill yourself or ruin the person who put you through so much? My heartbreak brought all these negative emotions to me, but I refused to admit defeat. He doesn't want me; fine by me. I don't want him to, either. In fact, the whole world's happiness is for me. I want to show him that I can be happy without you, and that's what I did. To my dismay, he came back crawling to me, asking me for his forgiveness and to accept him again. What should I do now? Should I let him enter my life again or move forward when I have everything that he is offering me now?

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. "Say you're a slut." He said, watching her finger herself, absentmindedly stroking his dick. "I," she gasped, closing her eyes, but being thrilled at saying the words, "I am a slut.. oh, please fuck me." He turned her around, forcing her up onto her hands and knees. She felt him run his hands down her back, up her spread ass, and finally pull on her hips as he positioned himself behind her. She moaned and turned herself up for him, pushing her open cunt back onto him. He leaned forward and grabbed her braids, pulling her head back as he rammed his dick inside her hard. She cried out and tightened around his dick, "Oh god, yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard and dirty." She moaned out. "I'm a fucking slut. Hurt my pussy."

Yana Brighton (29) and billionaire Zach Lindsay (32) each get a second chance at love when they coincidentally meet at a business conference. Sparks fly instantly but Yana's overbearing and jealous boss Damon Blackstone causes them to lose contact. Fate intervenes and they reunite when Zach and his best friend Kyle Parker broker a with Yana's sister Laura Payne. An embittered Damon partners with Zach's gold-digger ex-girlfriend Natasha Gomez to seek revenge when Yana repeatedly rejects him and he later gets fired. Yana and Zach fall in love but a major scandal coupled with deception, trust issues and a near death experience leaves their relationship hanging in the balance. A heartbroken Yana disappears; she keeps her a secret while Zach struggles to find her and balance his work life. Months later, Yana returns home with new relationship terms but Zach pursues her until they rekindle their relationship and eventually get engaged. A complication later endangers both Yana and the baby's life, forcing Zach to make a tough decision for his family. Will LOVE and FAITH be enough to overcome all obstacles they face? Excerpt: Zach pressed my cold hand to his , right above his heart. "Feel what you do to me Yana…” He my forehead gently. "You have my heart forever and always.” My aching heart desperately wanted me to melt into his warm embrace, but I steeled my resolve. "You promised you would never hurt me Zach but look at us now…"Tears streamed down my face in torrents and I hiccupped, "I love you Zach, but I choose me this time.” A pained expression crossed his face and his eyes glossed over. Willing myself to look away, I quickly grabbed my bag and walked out the door. My heart broke with every step I took.

Kidnapped? In a foreign country?? By a Mafia boss??? What else could possibly go wrong???? Hazel Bae had been looking for something for years but, before finding it, she ended up in a strange situation where she got caught after trying to steal from one of the biggest mafia clan's boss, Valek Vincenzo. *** "Hey!" I yelled but that was all I could say before he slammed his hands on the wall behind me and trapped me between them. "Since you think my kiss sucks." He looked down at me, "Let me show you how good I am at it." "Uh- that." I began to panic. What the hell! That was not the plan. Valek moved his face closer to mine and crashed his lips onto mine. I tried moving him away with my hands but he grabbed my wrists and slammed them on the wall next to my head and continued his act. At first, I was angry and wanted to just pull away but I couldn't. My legs started getting weak and butterflies churned in my stomach as he kissed me deeper. His lips moved artistically, such that it was captivating me. His slow-to-fast movements were perfect to lure any woman into the act. I was wrong. Very wrong. He was amazing at it. His kiss was so good I ended up giving in and kissing back. He let my arms go and placed his hands on my cheeks while I grabbed his wrists. He explored my mouth with his tongue, in places that felt so good I felt my knees go weak. Oh, God... This is bad... This is very bad.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

“Spread for me," he growled, his fingers teasing her wet and eager folds. “I… I can’t…” Celeste whispered, shivering, her body betraying her with every desperate twitch. “Yes, you can,” he hissed, pressing harder, dragging a fingertip through her slick heat. “Show me… how wet, how hungry you are for me.” Celeste never expected her stepbrother to ignite a fire she couldn’t control. Every accidental touch, every heated glance left her trembling, yearning for him in ways both thrilling and forbidden. When Jace invaded her space, teasing, daring, and dominating, she was pushed to the edge. Desire coiled low, nerves screamed, and every inch of her ached to be claimed and filled by the one man she shouldn’t want. Forbidden, dripping, and utterly consuming, this was a craving that shouldn’t exist, yet she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, resist.

“You loved a lie. Now love the one who created it” Ophelia Veline thought life couldn't get any worse after falling from grace to grass and being murdered by her older sister and fiancé. Bruised emotionally and broken physically, she’s left for dead. Left in a pool of her cold blood. Her pathetic life saga was meant to end here, she saw the light just ahead and it was reaching out for her soul until he snatched it instead. The unlikely god with an otherworldly aura. “I can grant you a second chance. Only if you agree to play my games” “Please…” she begged. The next time she’s awake, it's not in her former life that used to be all sugar and icing. She’s trapped in a hellish world of survival and madness. Once a decadent princess, now a pawn in a god's twisted playground. Ophelia will have to adapt or die trying because death doesn't wait. And the god who brought her into this hell hole couldn't care less about her or maybe…he does. But one thing is certain…she has to SURVIVE!

Could you swing along to the flow of fate that purposely designed specifically for you? But what if every beat of your heart is yearning for love? "Am I selfish if I ask you to stay? If I tell you I love you, would you hold me closer?" Taste it. Savour it, but don't you ever claim it. It may be just a trap. Guard your heart.

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The story contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and should not be read by anyone under the age of 18. Xoxo. Beg me to take you," he murmured. His voice was rough, reverberating through my bones. "Beg me to bend you over that couch and fuck you." The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. "Oh, yes," I whispered. "Please." He paused. Then, to my everlasting dismay, he pulled back, removing his hand from my pants and leaving a wet, cold trail behind. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, turning my knees to pudding. "No," he said. It took a second to register. "What?" I cried. "Why? You asked me to... why?" And he laughed. He laughed at me.