Totally Spies Inflation Suit

It all began in London when 4-year-old Claire witnessed a bigger boy getting bullied, "Hey! Let him go or I'll break your legs and give them to Mr Boo!" "Everyone, it's Claire!" One of the boys shouted and they all ran away from her. She had a standing reputation for beating up youngsters, and she was so popular among them. Claire went to the bullied boy, and instead of helping him up, she shook her head at him, "Such a crybaby. My Mr Boo is stronger than you.'' She flaunted her little teddy bear, which she called Mr Boo, in the boy's face and scoffed at him. ''Thank you." The boy appreciated. "It's okay." The boy stood up from the floor and dusted his tux pants, "What's your name?" Claire must return to find her father, so, there was no time to reply to him. She subconsciously dropped Mr Boo as she left. The boy picked up the bear from the floor, and on the teddy, he saw a raised index finger and a raised middle finger, forming a V shape. "Her name must start with a V. Veronica? Victory? Or probably Violent?" He kept on guessing what her name could be with a smile on his face. .... That marked the first time Claire met her anonymous admiral. She forgot about him, but did he? What would happen when he suddenly appeared before Claire in a totally different identity? What happened when he had grown so much that he couldn't love Claire purely, but was obsessed with her after watching her grow? How much would Claire take when she had to babysit him because she liked her men cute and shy, and he made himself a handful of those? Find out and there are a lot more to uncover....

"Read that to me again, but this time cover your face." Janette has been told one thing all her life. "You're fucking ugly." Judged and humiliated because of her looks, she hopes to live a silent and uneventful life filled with unrealized dreams and solitude, but all that changes the moment Billionaire father and son, Ayden, and Xavier Bravlov make an entrance into her life. Ayden is a man well known for his striking good looks and amazing business prowess. He's a social recluse and also a veteran actor. Everyone knows that since the death of his wife, he has withdrawn from society and hardly steps out of his mansion, yet he breaks his protocol, interrupts a class, and takes a young girl into his custody. It's strange, but Ayden Bravlov isn't a man who does things without a reason. With Mr. Ayden as a former actor himself, and with her passion for acting and her aspiration to become an actress, Janette agrees to his strange terms and soon finds herself thrust into a world of conspiracies, discoveries, and forbidden passion. He is older than her, and way out of her league, but a girl can hope can't she? Apart from Mr. Bravlov though, there is also one person she didn't see coming. One person her heart aches for in a totally different way, and who she can't get her mind off. She knows she's doomed when he's the son of the billionaire she's working for, but she can't control the attraction that grows deeper between them by the day. Will Janette be able to decide between these two men? And what happens when she finds out that she might not be fully human? The same way the two men her heart aches for are also not fully human.

By the seventh year of my cold war with my father, Don Leonardi Rossi, he finally found a way to win me over. He introduced me to the most powerful Mafia Don in southern Ritalle—Riccardo Colombo. For my happiness, my father was willing to give me half of the family's empire as a gift. I surrendered completely to Riccardo's love. Four months later, I was pregnant. Every prenatal check-up saw Bascily regions' two most influential Dons personally by my side. Everyone envied me for having two men who loved me so fiercely. Yet, on the day of my amniocentesis, they were both absent. "There's a new arms deal in the north," my father said, stroking my head. Riccardo kissed my belly gently. "I'll bring you gifts when I return." I smiled and watched them leave. But as I lay on the examination table, my phone buzzed with an anonymous video. In it, my father wore a groom's suit, standing beside Rosa—the prostitute who had infuriated my mother to death. Their illegitimate daughter, Lina, cradled her swollen belly, proudly wearing the Colombo family crest, and clung to my husband's arm. The announcer cried, "Congratulations to Don Rossi for reclaiming his one true love, and to Don Colombo for marrying his soulmate!" At the video's end, my father laughed and clinked glasses with Riccardo. "The fake crest and fake marriage certificate for Lia—you really outdid yourself. Aren't you worried she'll be heartbroken?" Riccardo snorted. "She never let Rosa into the house, leaving Lina to grow up as a bastard. This was what she owed her." So that was the truth. But when I finally left with my child for the Massimo family, why did they still regret it?

M“You want to stop? Fine. I’ll stop. But at the end of the day, pretty, you’re the one that’ll come begging.” “Want to bet?” My voice comes out shaky. Just like my legs.  Devon’s gray eyes light up, his lips curling into a smirk. “Bet. Which one of us gets to break before the wedding night.” This is a bad idea.  Everything in me is screaming not to take it.  I know. I fucking know.  Devon is a blockbuster curse. I’ve gotten a taste of him and I want more.  Heat and wetness floods my pussy. I want him again. I should refuse. I should walk back to Carter and pretend to be a loving wife. Instead, I nod. “Deal.” **** I caught my husband, Carter Stein, having sex with a man and a woman. His reply? “Our marriage is open now. This is normal. ” I tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. Every opportunity to get a survive failed, and I was left at my wits end. Until I met him. Devon Sinclair. My husband’s older brother. A man soaked in danger and sex. I thought to myself “my perfect revenge.” But Devon wasn’t the savior I thought he was. No. He was the wolf. And I was the lamb naive enough to wander into his den. He sunk his teeth into me. Mind, body and soul. I can’t escape him, not even in death. I taste my blood on his kisses. He’ll ruin me, totally and beyond repair. I shouldn’t have crossed his path. I shouldn’t have kissed him. But I did. And the worst part? I’ll walk into his den again with an invitation taped on my forehead.

Curtis paused to savor the view. She was totally open to him, her lower lips slick and swollen. Her whole body trembled, and that more than anything showed him just how close to the edge she already was: she was losing control, and he loved seeing it. Not able to stand it for one second longer, Curtis kissed her inner thigh, trailed his tongue up its curve. Tessa gave a small gasp as he slid between her folds, his tongue gliding up to her pulsing clit. He gave it a teasing little lick, then moved down again. She moaned in frustration now, felt his satisfied grin against her pussy. **** Curtis Manning is built from silence and scars; an ex-boxer, former soldier, and bouncer at Dangerous Curves who learned early that love costs too much. Commitment was never an option.... until Tessa walked in, all blonde curls and emerald eyes, and claimed his heart without even trying. Curtis has loved her from the start. Now she’s destroying herself – and he’s powerless to stop it. Tessa Mahoney is a former ballet dancer clinging to control in a life that never gave her any. Food is the enemy, numbers are safety. She’s determined to shrink herself back to nothing, even if it kills her. When Curtis forces Tessa to confront the truth, he expects to lose her forever. Instead, she forgives him, and gives him everything he’s ever wanted. Then Curtis’s past comes roaring back, violent and unforgiving, threatening the woman he loves. As his darkest truths surface, Curtis must face the hardest question of all: once Tessa sees who he really is, will love survive? And if it does,will Curtis be able to live with himself?

She loved him to the core, and from the age of four, a name called Neil Davis took residence in her heart. For the sake of his precarious career, she even went so far as to bear children for the unfamiliar Wilson couple. Twenty years of silent devotion led to him kneeling before another woman, promising her a lifetime commitment. No one knew she was the other half on his marriage certificate, trapped in a marriage that existed only in name for many years. "Neil, you'll never know what I've sacrificed for loving you!" "Then never tell me." With that, he coldly walked away, leaving her to sit alone in the living room until dawn. It was her twenty-fourth birthday, and the divorce agreement and a five million dollar check were his gifts to her. * Married for six years, she never imagined that one day, while he indulged in passion with his "fiancée" in bed, she would be curled up in the wardrobe, losing her virginity beneath another man! She was completely naked, while the man was impeccably dressed in a suit. He forced her to peer through the crack to witness the frenzied scene on the bed. "Same position, same frequency. Guess, between him and me, who will climax first?" The man's tone was serious, and under her startled gaze, he thrust even harder, penetrating deeper. "I love you, Neil!" She bit her lip tightly, but the ecstatic cries of Neil's "fiancée" from outside the wardrobe blurred her vision. Life is so ironic— While he was making love to other women, she was hiding in the closet having an affair with that woman's uncle, Mr. Wilson. After the divorce, a child in a little suit, resembling herself and Mr. Wilson, barged into her peaceful life.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.

Noah Kline is the picture of daytime purity. He is a shy philosophy student who wears glasses and shrinks under Dr. Alexander Elliott's piercing gray stare during ethics lectures. His heart races as he imagines those commanding hands bending him over the podium. At night, he turns into Nyx, the club's dirtiest pole dancer. His body is oiled and shining, his hips grind against steel in a way that makes cocks throb below. He drops into a slow, dirty split that makes cocks throb below. With his thighs spread wide around the pole, he rolls his pelvis in wet, teasing circles. His thong is soaked and clinging to his leaking erection while men stuff hundreds into his garter and fingers graze his balls. When Noah needs money for school, he gets a private VIP gig. He climbs the pole in a tiny thong and a glittering harness. He bends back and slides his fingers inside the waistband to tease his own hole on stage, moaning softly as the crowd cheers. Then the lights catch a familiar face: Professor Elliott, coming out of the shadows, his suit clean and his eyes black with wild hunger. Elliott rushes onto the stage and slams Noah's chest against the cold pole. "Daytime little mouse can't meet my eyes," he growls, shoving his knee between Noah's thighs to rub against his sore cock. "But here you are, dripping and begging strangers to break this tight hole?" Rough hands pull the harness aside, and Elliott's fingers go between Noah's cheeks, circling his entrance before pushing two thick fingers inside and curling them to hit his prostate hard.

Fuck, look at you,” he growled, backing her against the desk, voice low and rough. “Sitting in my class every day with that innocent little smile while your pussy’s soaked for your brother’s best friend.” She whimpered as his hand slid up her thigh, pushing her skirt higher. “Tell me, baby,” he rasped against her ear, teeth grazing her pulse, “how many times have you touched yourself thinking about your professor bending you over this desk and ruining you?” Her breath hitched. “Too many…” He chuckled darkly, fingers teasing the edge of her panties. “Good girl. Because tonight I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me when you’re sitting in my lecture tomorrow, trying not to moan my name in front of everyone.” --- He teaches by day… and rules the road by night. Fleeing New Orleans was supposed to be Nirvana Hale’s fresh start. She was finally going to meet Adrian Cross; her brother’s best friend and the voice that had comforted her through her darkest nights. But the man waiting for her in New York is a stranger. He’s the lethal enforcer of a notorious motorcycle club, a man who treats her like a burden to be locked away. Just as Nirvana begins to hate the man she once adored, the world shifts again. On her first day at Rodrigo University, she walks into her lecture hall to find Adrian standing at the podium. In a crisp suit and glasses, Professor Cross is composed, brilliant, and completely off-limits. Now, Nirvana is trapped in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. By day, he's the teacher who refuses to look her in the eye. By night, he’s the biker who makes her pulse race.

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.