The Perfectionist's Guide To Losing Control の小説・ストーリー

I can’t stand it, can’t stand the fire, the heat, the blaze that takes everything away. I will not give in. I fight with all that I am, the instinct to release everything pitted against the part of me that needs control, needs to stay this side of human. The desperate struggle shreds my senses, rips them wide open. I lose my breath again, each exhale the sound of my weakness. The sound of what I cannot have. Control. It splinters. I shudder with the enormity of the change, the enormity of my failure. I can’t resist it, can’t stop it. My attempts are futile, each more frantic than the last.

It was destined to be one of the most talked-about properties in the world, with a blend of opulence, style, and exclusivity unmatched by any other. But one thing bothered me and it was perfection. The ticking of the clock echoed in the room as I sat, barely moving, staring down at the documents on my desk. There was nothing wrong with the numbers—everything was perfect on paper. But perfection on paper wasn’t enough for me. I picked up my pen, idly tapping it against my finger, before letting it rest in my hand. Slowly, almost absentmindedly, I pressed the nib against the back of my hand, watching as the ink began to soak into my skin, dark and thick. The sting was sharp but satisfying. Pai

she replied, “I can’t believe we are breaking history, a maid is marrying her boss.” “I don’t think anybody would believe that for you look nothing like a maid.” “But I was a maid.” “Was, but not anymore, you are my imperfect perfection,” he replied that she could only smile and wondered how can they be a perfection that is imperfect? Not getting her answer, she smiled more pronounced and listened to the priest, today is a very big day to her, a day she had looked forward to all her life with the man beside her. And she knew that just as his words ‘imperfect perfection’ confused her, so would their love confuse anyone who tries to ruin them.

"Babe ehn. Why can't you just follow Adam's principle? In life, we win some, we lose some." "My words. Why are bringing that into your conversation?" Adam said, drawing our attention to him. "Ogbeni, calm down, we can't even tap from your philosophy again?" "Don't even mind him. Winsome, lose some and he'd never allowed me to outrun him. He's always hell-bent on winning our races. Rubbish." Sophia said with a snort, earning a chuckle from Adam. "So, you're saying I should intentionally let you win?"

I had almost lost control of my scent, and he would've known that I was an omega playing alpha dress up. I had frozen for half a heartbeat when August had brought his lips to my neck, before forcing it down again. My body had tried to betray me, and I had almost let it. If I had lost control even for a moment, my life would have been over. Because someone like Asher would have noticed, and Asher noticing meant everything falling apart. The idea alone made my stomach tighten. I pushed harder on the ice, skating faster like I could outrun the memory. “Darren! Are you even listening?” the coach snapped again.

The storm had passed, but the echo of Lucien’s words thundered in my chest long after his lips had fallen silent. "You ruined me, Helena." He had said it like a prayer. Like a curse. Like a confession that cost him everything and gave me everything in return. But what was I supposed to do with that power? Wield it like a sword—or lay it at his feet? I stood alone in the library now, the fire flickering low, the scent of rain and him still clinging to the air. My fingertips traced the spine of the book he’d touched last. A Philosophy of Control. The irony bit deep.

As for Lucas, he was barely keeping the threads of patience and self-control together. "You say you don't wanna fuck this arse? Did you ask your cock's permission? Do you think you're above my ass's seduction, hm?" Benard asked with a seductive tone. Okay, it was getting harder not to grab those hips and hold them in place. 'Just a little more,' he told himself. Yet the very next second, he thought. 'Screw it! I'm fucking this ass! Resistance was futile from the very start.' But Benard, as if he had already predicted it, draped his left wrist over the right unsplayed fingers.

They always had. Dante leaned closer, his breath ghosting the shell of my ear. “Sweetheart, I don’t scare easily. And your father just made a mistake.” I turned, startled. “What mistake?” His mouth curved into the faintest smirk, a shadow of something I couldn’t quite name. “He thinks he’s still in control.” And then he walked ahead, perfectly composed, leaving me trailing behind. “Dante! Wait!” I hissed, hurrying to catch up. My heels clicked against the marble, too loud in the suffocating silence of the Montclair estate. He didn’t slow down.

I feel the warmth building up in my groin; I am so close to losing control. "Becca, you better stop, or I am going to lose control." She continues to work her mouth and lips up and down my shaft. As the tip of my head hits the back of her throat, she starts to speed up. I grab hold of her head and start to moan. My legs grow weak as I get near to explode. "Oh, Becca, I am going to cum." In one last attempt to gain control, I throw my head back with a loud thud against the door. But I can no longer keep it in. With one thunderous roar, I let go.

“The partnership is already over, Freddie by whoever took these pictures on my private residency. The world now knows that Model Perfect’s model girl isn’t dating Hunter anymore. You can’t cover this up. There’s no way. And besides Freddie, if this means I am getting fired, I could careless at this point…because…I quit. I quit…” I turn around. I need to be rid of Model Perfect and the toxic relationship they have with me. They have controlled my entire life for the last two years. Even if Freddie cares for me, I can’t stay here. Our friendship is not a reason to stay in the toxic shadows of Model Perfect and their bullshit image of perfection. “You can’t quit you are under contract.” I flip