The Nobleman With His Hand On His Chest Novels & Stories

As his short black hair fluttered in the air, it only made him look even more noble and striking, as if he had descended with the moonlight itself. Despite suffering from years of illness, aside from his cold, pale complexion, there was no sign of weakness in the way he landed so effortlessly. Especially since he landed on one knee, his gloved hand steady. The gold-rimmed glasses on his nose made him look less like an ordinary man and more like the youngest godfather of the medieval era.

He's probably planning on taking a quick shower to wash off the blood covering his chest. My eyes can't help but take him in, noticing how his shirt clings to his eight-pack like a second skin. Johnston is an incredibly handsome guy I've known for ages, and I'm the only one with the special privilege of running my hands over his impressive chest whenever I want. It's an exclusive right he's granted me and one that I frequently enjoy exercising.

He commented. His small hands roamed upwards, towards the chest. He poked and rubbed. He could feel the taut abdominal muscles, the hard ridges and firm flesh. Within his mind, he was already drooling. What a perfect body his beloved has! "See? Normal chest." He boldy went on his toes and pulled on his beloved's smooth cheeks. Prince Ron squealed in his mind. He was touching his beloved's handsome face!!! The skin was silky smooth and a little cold to the touch.

I can't help but narrow my eyes, but as soon as I did, I felt his hands touch my cheeks and squeeze them playfully. Eventually, I am able to discern that he is indeed chuckling, but this time it is different. "I suppose you wouldn't be able to understand," he says as he releases his grip on my face and immediately backs away, creating a formal greeting distance between two nobles of opposite genders.

Even the middle-aged woman who usually loved to gossip lowered her head silently with a blush and made way for us. Although Chris didn't have hands to return the salutes, he tried to straighten his injured spine, and a long-lost smile appeared on his scarred face. With hands that no one could see, he accepted the delayed kindness and respect. I squatted down and gently kissed the scar on his amputated shoulder. "Honey, dawn has arrived." Under the sunlight, his shadow stretched back long and far. Like a monument.

His friend began. "You just leave it to me." The nobleman cut in, a confident look on his face. " I know how to sway the people to my side. After all,the only way to tame a dog is to give it meat." They both laughed at his sentence and made to toast to the occasion only to realize that the wine had finished. "LUKE!!" The nobleman bellowed impatiently. A haggard and wretched-looking man entered the living room in a haste. His wrists were bound in bronze chains and his hair was dishevelled. His clothes were nothing to write home about as they could be considered rags.

She gestured to Khloe, then led everyone out. The door creaked shut, and the echo lingered in the air. "Come here." Henry turned slightly and beckoned to Khloe with an easy motion. She hesitated for a moment, then walked toward him. His hair was completely white, yet thick and lustrous, and his spirit was vigorous. He wore a dark blue, traditional-style long robe with a matching vest. On his hand were a top-grade emerald bracelet and thumb ring. He looked simple, yet unmistakably noble.

The sensation was foreign and electric under his palm. Noble’s head fell back as a low groan tore from his chest. “Yeah. Just like that.” His hands came up, and he fisted in his hair, elbows pointing out as he surrendered to the touch. The muscles of his abdomen stood out, tensing with each pass of Princely’s hand.

Zamiel held my hand over the table and shouted, "Don't smile. You can attract many men here. I would going to punch them one by one. I give him a lovely glance. I told him, "Don't be envious darling. You are my only one. I would never dare to find for someone else. He gradually become more composed. The lady asked us, "Excuse me ma'am and sir. May I know what are your orders?" I said our commands as I turned to face her.

It didn't help that he was so panty-dropping gorgeous either. Adrastus was a tall man, looking to April like he may be in his mid-thirties, beautifully tanned skin housed his impressive physique, and the blue short-sleeved button-up he was wearing emphasized well-honed, corded muscle, covered in dark tattoo's. As April's gaze wandered further up she noticed his neck had a tattoo that appeared to be glowing. Written in Greek scripture were the words "If I must be owned, at least chain me to someone who will let me fly free."