Toaru Majutsu No Index New Testament

"Why do you hate me so much, Maan" she asked hiccupping, hitting his chest. "I never said that" he said holding her hands. ____________________________________ "So, my Ita, how does it feels to be Mrs. Dutta," he asked holding her from behind while making eye contact in the mirror. "Best feeling in this world, Mr. Dutta" she replied kissing his cheek. ____________________________________ "I BLOODY ASKED YOU TO DO ONE THING BUT YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!" he shouted slamming the wooden desk with his fists. "I am sorry, sir" she replied with tears welling up in her eyes. ____________________________________ "I will kill that man if I see him near you again" he said dangerously running his index finger from her forehead to neck. "W...why" she asked stammering. "Because you are mine"...

My husband lies to me about working late on Christmas Day. I know he wants to give me a surprise—I saw a jewelry set worth millions of dollars in his pocket. However, all I receive is the news of him pretending to be Santa Claus as he delivers a gift to his female secretary. She flaunts it on social media. "You're the most precious Christmas gift I've gotten." My husband changes the background photo on his social media to a photo of them together. I smile and like the post. Later, the secretary comes to me and smugly says she's pregnant. Meanwhile, I pull out a diagnosis report verifying that my husband is sterile. "Checkmate!" She visibly panics.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"

“I’m not a slut!” I shot back, clearly irritated. He let out a dry laugh, taking a step closer to me. “You are right, you are not a slut.” He curled his index finger under my chin, his eyes locked with mine. “You are my slut.” **** When a mysterious monster virus breaks out in a once peaceful pack and every clue points at an elite high school, Noah Wolfclaw, an Alpha Prince is sent by his father to Danville High, undercover. The plan was to not draw attention to himself until he had figured out what the school had to do with the Virus but his plan becomes difficult when he becomes tangled with Astrid Moon, a timid, wolfless omega who has been bullied her entire life. What happens when Noah discovers his mate behind the walls of a school that held many secrets? What happens when Danville’s secrets are finally out in the open and he eventually has to choose between love and duty?

I hated limelight because I was wolf-less and weak. My plan was to finish my one year at Black Moon Highschool quietly. But an encounter with the biggest bully of the school, left me shattered. From the day Apollo de Vries saw me, he had only one thing in his mind—he wanted to ruin me. And I had no idea why. Apollo was a dark, depraved soul who had the world spinning on his index finger. He had the confidence of gods and ruthlessness of devils. Elder son of the Alpha of the Black Moon pack and the future Alpha, he was dominance and arrogance wrapped in the body of a sinful Greek god with an equally sinful voice. I couldn’t handle his hatred. Until he started stalking me like the wolf, he was… “This is my last warning to you Natasha,” he said. “If anyone fucking touches you, I will kill him. Do you understand?” “Wh— why?” “Because you are all mine, sweetie. Mine,” he said in a low, lethal voice."

“Nicco's fingers didn't stop their magic dance. His index finger was rubbing my nub, pressing down and stroking up when he used his thumb to slide into my core. That was enough to send me over the edge and I gripped the sides of the couch, arched my back and opened my mouth in a wordless shout while his fingers milked me. Finally, the spasms stopped, and I lay back, limp, looking over at Nicco, mortified that I could smell my arousal. Nicco pulled his fingers out, showing me the sticky juices that coated them. Then he put a finger in his mouth, sucking my nectar as I watched.” Tired of the nightly abuse, sixteen-year-old Hope runs away from her stepfather, changes her name and hits the road in an old minivan. She is homeless but surviving, trying to keep at least one step ahead of her past. One moonlit night four years later, fate places a stranger on the side of the road that needs her help. She finds herself inexplicably drawn to him. Alpha Nicco is New York City's youngest crime boss. He's also the alpha of a pack that is actively involved in his sketchy business deals. He doesn't have time for relationships, especially one with a human, but the moon goddess has a sense of humor and has chosen Hope to be his mate. Someone is stealing from Nicco and Hope has the skills to help him figure out who it is. Despite the danger she's ready to help, but Nicco has reservations. After all, she's just a human and she could never be the Luna he and his pack needs. . . . or could she?

“Your body belongs to me, Kitten.” He rasped out, cold index finger reaching out to trace over my fluttering pulse. I took an hesitant step backwards, but he took one forward, closing in on me even further and making my breath hitch. “Say it.” I gulped and averted my gaze instead, clutching on my towel harder. His grip on my chin was firm as he tipped my head upwards. I trembled in immense fear. “My b- body belongs to you.” I stuttered shakily, and a dark grin broke out on his face, making my blood run colder. “That’s right. Now, take this off. I don’t think we’ll be needing this tonight.” —— When an underboss’ territory gets raided and his wife and eldest son gets captured, what better way to rectify the situation than to seek help from the most popular Mafia Don in Italy and give his only daughter away in exchange for said help. Catherine has a deep rooted fear of men, and had secretly planned on eloping before she comes of age in which her hand would be given out in marriage, but when the unexpected happened and she had to be the sacrificial lamb, she knew her entire life was doomed. Damien’s was cold, ruthless and emotionless. He had no idea of what to do with his new wife who trembled around him like a lost kitten– but, he knew he could never let her go. Ever since he set his eyes on her and saw the tears running down her flushed cheeks, he knew he had to have her, protect her and keep her all to himself. That might just be hard to do, since danger was never, ever far away from him.

I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?