Novel & Cerita Touch Me Not Mr·kingsley

Cole answered simply. The physical proximity intensified the emotional tension between us until it felt almost suffocating. Cole reached out his hand, his long fingers moving slowly toward my face. He gently tucked a loose curl behind my ear, his knuckles brushing against my skin. Instead of pulling away, he let his touch linger right at my jawline, his thumb pressing softly against my bone.

“O-of course not. I—” “Then don’t tell me how I should run my life or who I should trust. Olivia has proven herself to have a spot as one of my most respected staff, and I will not tolerate you speaking badly about her no matter who you are. If you came here to insult my date, leave my sight this instant. I have important things to do.” He sneered at him. “I’ll leave you two alone. Have a good evening.” Mr. Kingsley gave him a curt nod, gave me a small disgusted look, and scurried off.

MAYA If anyone would tell me that the CEO of Grey Textile and Clothing would ask me to be his model, I would call the person a big liar. But surprisingly he asked me to be his model. He even told me to drop the formalities and call him by his first name, Silver. It was like I was dreaming. But what bothered me was that Liam didn’t look too happy about the whole thing. It made me feel bad because if not for Liam, I wouldn't have met Silver and indulged in conversations with him enough for me to be his model.

I worked slowly, carefully, forcing my hands to stay steady even as my pulse thundered. To reach the far side of the bandage, I had to step closer, between his knees. The realization came too late to retreat. His legs bracketed me easily, not trapping but close enough that every inch of space between us became deliberate. My fingers brushed his skin again, and the contact felt electric, a small, treacherous current that climbed my arm and settled somewhere under my ribs. “Your ex-husband,” Kingsley said suddenly, voice low and conversational, “had terrible taste in jewelry.”

Damon grabs his keys, and his hand brushes mine as we head toward the door together. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. We step out into the hallway, and there is Kingsley, slouched on the couch like the building owner that he is. Coffee in one hand, sunglasses pushed into his wild curls. “My favourite people in the whole world,” he announces with a grin. “Good morning, Kingsley,” I say, smiling. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says, with that same unbothered charm that probably gets him into more trouble than it gets him out of.

he greets me, his happy expression growing as I greet him back with a laugh. “Hey, my gorgeous Alpha.” He crosses his hands behind his back, lifting his chin with a smug face. “Ready to meet the royals?” “The royals?” I ask, squinting my eyes. His grin grows wider. “Yes, we didn’t announce ourselves as the new future leaders properly, I’m afraid.” “That’s not good,” I shake my head, struggling to keep myself from cracking up. “They will be missing out on our wedding gift if we don’t provide to that right away.”

here, Ashly gestured to Samanatha and Alexander who both had wide eyes, “but this is Ken, another one of my babies.” The silence and their baffled expressions were amusing. Mike extended an elegant hand to Ken while offering a dazzling, gummy smile to them all. “I hear a lot about you, you’re the famous photographer. Pleased to finally meet you, Ken. And Ms. and Mr. Alexander, it’s good to see you both doing well.” Ken was the first to recover by that, putting two and two together, cocoa butter eyes gleaming. “Wait, wait. Wait. Wasn’t you- you don’t happen to be the therapist Mile, do you?”

His touch sends an electric wave that makes me shiver. "Because I don't like seeing what's mine standing among trash like your ex," his voice is low and husky, vibrating right down to my ribs. "I am not yours," I protest weakly, even as my hand unconsciously grips his black shirt, pulling him closer because I can't bear the distance between us. "Is that so?" Xavier lets out a soft chuckle, an intoxicatingly masculine sound. "Then why is your heart pounding like this when I touch you, Rose?"

He heard some shuffle on the other side before the door slowly opened. "Georgia, did you forget some-" Kelsey was stopped midway when she realized that it wasn't Georgia knocking on her door, but the one and only devil she had been trying to avoid the entire day. "Mr. King." She said formally. "Do you need something, sir?" She asked politely. Mason hated the way she called him Mr. King or Sir. He didn't like it one bit. "Don't call me that." He shook his head trying to hold in his desire to grab her and get a taste of those strawberry-like lips again.

“And… based on height, build, and timing… I believe it’s the same person who sent the bloody box to your hotel during your concert in Korea.” A slow, humorless smile curved Kingsley’s lips — a dangerous smile. “He thinks he knows me.” His voice was a low murmur. “Thinks he knows how to get under my skin.” He stood, walked to the drawer, and removed a cigarette pack. The silver lighter clicked open — flame, inhale, exhale — and smoke drifted through the air, soft and elegant, even as his tension spiked. “But he’s wasting his time,” Kingsley said, sitting again, crossing his ankles. “People like him only bark. They don’t bite.”