Wallflower Romance Novels の小説・ストーリー

#Romance #Thrilling #Suspense #Action #Dramas This is going to be the best of best so don't miss any part. @Authoress Ricky Be expecting this next week readers. I love you all💓💓 Here is a blurb about the book

Cas’s hand fisted in Damien’s hair, hips bucking. “Fuck, Damien… just like that.” Cas’s voice was wrecked. His free hand found mine, squeezing. “You see how he sucks me? So fucking good.” I couldn’t look away. Damien’s head bobbed, cheeks hollowing, saliva dripping down Cas’s thick length. I leaned in, kissing Cas deeply while Damien worked him. “You two look incredible together.” Cas broke the kiss with a gasp. “Get over here, Mari. On my face.” I straddled his mouth eagerly, facing Damien. Cas’s tongue dove into me instantly, lapping at the mess of cum inside. “Oh—Cas!”

But there are some people who still longs for more rather than staying in the room, locked up and just playing games. I am one of them. And now, I have friends, and I finally get along with my family. I also have found the love of my life. I am Miss Wallflower, and this is my story. END

"This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself." Nanny laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, Isa. You’re making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world. Just imagine it—a forbidden workplace romance, secret glances, and the tension! Oh, how thrilling! The babysitter and the boss. You’ve already got the perfect setup." I glare at her. "Nanny, stop. He’s my boss, and he has a child. A cute child, by the way, who is clearly going through something. I’m not about to entertain any fantasies about him."

So, I threw myself into the little details. By mid-morning on the second day, I was standing in front of a florist’s stall, arguing over roses. “No, no, you don’t get it,” I insisted, hands planted on my hips. “These look like they’ve already been through heartbreak. How am I supposed to convince anyone of romance with petals that look like they’re giving up on life?” The florist—a tired-looking man with streaks of soil on his hands—sighed like I was his personal punishment. “They’re fresh. They came in this morning.”

All she felt was happiness—pure and immeasurable. When he asked if she was all right, she nodded. But when he whispered if they could go another round, she giggled and slapped his stomach in protest. Yet Dixal was serious. He rolled her beneath him once more, lips grazing her ear. “I want you again, sweetie.” Shivers ran down her spine. This time, Flora Amor was the one to kiss him first. The night was still long, and it belonged to them alone.

He kept pressing the doctor, saying, “Her breathing’s getting faster! Is she in danger? Can’t you give her some medicine right away?” Even after my symptoms began to subside, he was still too worried to go home or even drink a sip of water. Now, however, he had completely forgotten about that incident. Or perhaps, he remembered… something else. I recalled the information in the top-secret file I had found. It said Summer’s favorite flower was gardenias. Perhaps the flowers he had prepared were not truly meant for me. I looked up and gave him a perfect smile. “Thanks, but no thanks. I prefer the smell of fresh air lately. Could you free up your schedule for my birthday? I have some activities

Shadow raised her head to smell it, her big brown eyes curious, but upon finding it to be nothing other than frustrating ideas, she resettled. It had seemed so easy at first glance. Audrey and Ray had fallen in love once; I knew they could do it again. I had buzzed through my shift, sprinted home, and hopped on the computer for research. Fast forward two hours and I had no results. Everything I found was either too complex or too reminiscent of “The Parent Trap”. I had no idea how to get these two people to fall in love, let alone how to get them in the same room. My balloon of hope and excitement was quickly deflating, reality a slow leak sinking it. My phone chimed, and the noise startled

She smelled of wolf. Full wolf, not the suppressed register I was projecting behind the Switch, not the dampened human-baseline signal I was broadcasting as Lyanna Black. The real thing, clean and particular, the scent of a bloodline with depth in it, the specific compound of someone high-born and aware of it and comfortable with the awareness. My Silver Dawn receptors catalogued it automatically. High rank. Not the highest in this compound, but high enough to move through it with the proprietary ease she was currently demonstrating. I kept my face exactly where it was and did not let the cataloguing show.

In Paris, he got similar flowers and wine which I haven't taken and I wonder what it is this time. I drop the box and the flowers on the other couch to check out the package first. I open it to see a bag filled with romance novels. I bring them out one after the other and they are the newly published New York times best sellers' books. I arrange the books one after the other so I can count them and I counted up to 10. Ten romance books should last me for the rest of the month. I haven't had time to get new books since I arrived in America and I am still making do with the ones I purchased in Paris.