Novel & Cerita Touch Me Not Mr·kingsley

His thumb hovered over the screen, Margaret’s name staring back at him. He hadn't spoken to her on the phone personally in a long time . And now— Aaron. His son, maybe his heir or even his shame. But still, he was his son. He needed to know how he was doing. The silence in the room screamed louder than any voice ever could. He stared at the screen a moment longer… and then— Clatter. The phone slipped from his hand and thudded to the carpeted floor. Mr. Kingston buried his face in his hands, elbows braced on the desk. His breathing turned ragged.

"Do you agree to my request?" She let her towel fall loose to the ground and stepped out of it, making sure to keep eye contact with mine as she pressed her naked body on mine. She guided my hands to the precipice of her dripping cunt and slowly rocked herself on my fingers. "Touch me, Mr. Martinez," She purred, biting down on her lower lip. Without warning, like a dog in heat, I plunged my fingers inside her and she gasped, letting out a loud moan that filled the room. I stroked her deeper as she held on tightly to me.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sinclair, it's a professional burn ointment. Even if we went to the hospital, they'd probably just use the same stuff." Her words hit a nerve with Jonathan, as though she were suggesting that he, a capable CEO, had no idea about basic medical care. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted when Kylie's phone rang. The screen clearly displayed the name "Nathan Kingsley". Kylie glanced at the screen before turning to Jonathan. "Excuse me, sir. I just need to take this call." Jonathan's mouth was still half-open, but he shot back sharply, "I haven't finished speaking yet."

"We can't keep letting Damien pull the strings." Mark came in a few minutes later with a tray of tea and small pastries. His steps were quiet, his expression unreadable. I couldn't stop myself from watching his hands as he set the tray down. They didn't tremble, but I thought I saw the faintest tension in his shoulders. "Anything else you need, ma'am?" he asked politely. I forced a small shake of my head. "No. Thank you." He nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I couldn't let them see how weak and exhausted I was on the inside, I couldn't let them see how close I was to giving up on everything, including my entire self and life. An older man walks into the and the backs of both Jersey and I involuntarily straightens immediately. The man looking to be in his late thirties walks towards us, he maintains a barely visible polite smile onto his face. “Mrs. Morgan.” The man says bringing his hand out for a handshake and I politely stand to return his hand shake. “Mr. Kingsley.” I say letting out a breathe. “Thank you for coming.” Mr. Kingsley says and I'm almost sure he only said that in a bid to be polite.

He pushed Thomas out of the way only to be blocked by Queen Kennedy. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. I need to get my wife to a doctor. If she dies in that seat, will you be responsible?” He growled, his voice so cold it could freeze an ocean. Queen stood head to head with him, unmoving, with a cold smile stretching her red lips, “You won’t be stepping anywhere, Silas. Dahlia will finish painting even if she dies in that chair.” Silas saw fucking red, anger blurring everything as he stepped close and was about to lift her by her throat and smash her against the wall when Edward rushed by his side,

“Mark Evans. I represent Mr. Damian Kingsley.” I blinked. My brain tried to catch up. “The CEO?” “Yes.” My stomach dropped. Damian Kingsley wasn’t just some CEO. He was the CEO. Ruthless. Rich. On every Forbes list, every headline. Cold as the stock market and twice as unfeeling. I stared at the card. Didn’t read it. “Why would someone like him want to talk to me?” Mark’s expression didn’t change. “Mr. Kingsley believes you might be the answer to a mutual problem.”

my far away cousin; Kingsley

Maybe it was because I thought of the woman I was in my past life, the one who blindly threw herself into love. Blind love made women foolish and insecure. By the time I finished breakfast and returned to my room, I noticed I had over a dozen missed calls, most of them from Chris. I didn't bother to call back, deliberately ignoring them. Just as I was about to put my phone down and head to the library, I received an Instagram follow request. "Hi, gorgeous. Do you remember me? I'm Drake, the one who danced with you." I opened the message and saw his profile picture. He had brown curly hair and bright green eyes. He looked youthful and energetic, more like a sports star than a serious Alpha. I

The early morning sun filtered in through the white curtains of the sitting room, casting delicate shadows across the Marble floor. Kingsley sat on the couch in his charcoal robe,sipping from a steaming cup of Ginger tea while scanning through his phone contacts. . His eyes narrowed as he stopped at a familiar name. Collins Timothy. “Collins,”He murmured under his breath, a small smile curling on his lips. Anna peeked from the kitchen doorway, towel still draped from her shoulder. She had just finished cleaning the dishes from breakfast. “Sir Kingsley, did you call me?” she asked.