The Loveliest Place Read Online Novels & Stories

He emphasized the last part with a sensual tone. He counts to three, and finally, I open my eyes wide and take in the surroundings. It's a rustic cabin, and I love it! I'm not a woman of few words, but today I really am. "This place is magical, it's identical to the one in my dreams. Ah, they've come true! "Love, what a beautiful place, that's why you were so mysterious," I look into his eyes, wanting to cry at this beautiful gesture, but if I do, I'll ruin his special surprise.

“Please.” She stepped inside, her shoes making no sound on the thick rug. She wandered slowly into the living space, her fingers trailing over the back of a sofa, soft as butter. She saw a well-loved copy of a book of Mary Oliver’s poetry on the side table. Her favorite poet. A coincidence? She doubted it. “It’s beautiful,” she said, and meant it. It was the first place he had ever shown her that felt like it had a soul.

There are books below to keep you company. Narcissus. I peered down beneath the table in pure curiosity and there I saw more books. The hopeless romantic books that I had to read. It ends with us and ugly love by Colleen Hoover stood out the most to me. I read reviews on it and it seemed good. It was actually on my next turn list but then I got engaged in the ace of spades that was a part of the collection that Narc had sent and annotated.

Thank you 😊😊. I love you all... and I hope you enjoy this book. okay now the beginning...💨💨 The darkest hour of the night is closest to the morning.....

The beauty, the serenity—everything about the place screamed Ann. As he approached the door, his eyes landed on a carved heart etched into the wood. Inside it, the words: “GM + DM 4EVA.” He stared at it, eyes lingering. The carving was faded, but lovingly done. There was history here, a story etched into the walls, into the land itself. It was like the cabin had secrets of its own. His heartbeat accelerated. His palms were clammy. He was no longer the confident Rex Radford the campus knew. Here, standing before this sacred space, he was just a boy in love. Vulnerable. Nervous.

I am confident that it has just the effect I want it to. In the garden, I take in a deep breath and let the sweet-smelling air fill my nostrils. This is perhaps my favorite part of this place by far. The beautiful array of flowers, the perfumed air, the warm pool; what’s not to love? If this is going to be my last time here, I want to take in as much of its beauty as I can. There isn’t one place in my town there in the outside world that is nearly as simultaneously beautiful and peaceful as this place manages to be. The local parks are beautiful but far from peaceful. The woods are peaceful but are anything but beautiful. This courtyard is a truly special one. I wonder for a moment what it w

I have always imagined how it felt like to hold hands with a person whose soul is connected with yours and who can understand you in the way that other people around you cannot understand. Love is the only heart that never stops beating, it certainly is the most beautiful piece of God's creation that ever will be. It is the only beautiful red piece that makes me feel welcomed whenever I step inside a room and a voice in my head says I am unwelcomed because I am not like the rest people in the room. I have seen been favoured with the opportunity to see different beautiful landforms here on earth- rocks that bask in the warmth of the sun with brown pride and rivers that run like endless pools

But Nikolai was waiting, he grabbed my hand before I could protest, pinning it above my head, causing me to fall flat on the sofa. “You—” my chest heaved as I struggled to steady my erratic breath. “Let me go.” “No,” his palm settled on my thighs, his fingers grazing my skin through the fabric. Heat pooled low in my belly instantly, jitters running underneath my skin. Everything was familiar. The touch, the caress, the silent desire. Even though it's been years, my body still remembered. “Remind me where you love to be touched the most.” “I do not love being touched,” I gritted as I protested in his hold, “let me go.”

Suddenly the contents of some silly note left under my door frame seem much more important than before and I get home in record time. I rush to my desk where I left the paper to find it missing. In its place is a single black synthetic rose, laid on its side a black candle, lit. and a message written in my favorite burgundy lip gloss across my computer screen. Don’t ignore me, Baby.