Limited Extra Time Ch 18 の小説・ストーリー

Tensions are brewing inside the calm surface of Sylvestre Empire when the Crown Princess, Talia D'aureville was hereby executed to the guillotine. On the trial before the execution, Talia was sentenced to death for committing numerous of evil acts to the Slyvestrian. It was the death she cannot accept, for it was only base on unrealistic words to frame her up. In the dark path of the beginning of her death, she wished that if she was given a second chance to live, she will take her revenge and put all the wrong things into right—to get back and fight for her throne. Waking up while chasing her breath, she realized that she was back in the past. She comes up with a plan to start her revenge, to take back her throne, and to own what she lost in the past.

After helping her best friend with a contractual relationship as a pretend girlfriend to Keith Maul, an arrogant billionaire who desires not to have any sort of relationship with the opposite gender, it causes her relationship to break. Still Charlotte realizes that she can't forget about him despite it being only a show to get other women to leave his side Meanwhile, Keith has also fallen head over heels in love with his pretend girlfriend but can't have her. Coincidentally they meet at a wedding but their meeting turned sour leading to a further stretch between them. Would their relationship turn out to be a fairy tale love story or it's just a mere dream that can never come true?

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

Caution ❌❌❌🔞 Dark Erotic Romance, Billionaire, +18 Mature, contains mature content, explicit sexual scenes, emotional trauma, manipulation, dominance, and dark themes, obsession, submission, power imbalance, forbidden desire, sexual awakening, class conflict, psychological dominance Sold to a brothel on her Nineteenth birthday, she was nothing more than a commodity—until he walked in. A ruthless billionaire, cold as ice and as dangerous as the dark corners of his mansion. He didn’t want her for just sex. He wanted control, obedience, and to claim her body as his. But he didn’t expect her to burn with desire, to challenge him, to crave the power he wielded over her. Bound by his rules, she becomes his maid, his plaything, but also his obsession. As passion ignites between them, it’s a dangerous dance of dominance, submission, and forbidden pleasure. Their world is a game of control and surrender, but when desire blurs the lines, both their dark pasts threaten to tear them apart. With rivals, jealousies, and a love neither of them was ready for, will she remain his submissive forever—or break free from his chains? In this world of lust and power, no one can stay in control forever. Especially when she starts to take the reins in the most erotic, dangerous ways.

Eliza Ward does not fall through time. Time bends toward her. Pulled from the present into Revolutionary America, Eliza becomes trapped in a landscape where history repeats unevenly, battles restart with variations, and memory functions as both anchor and weapon. She is not a chosen heroine, but a constant: a woman whose awareness destabilizes the moment itself. She meets Mercy Hale, a midwife and witch who understands time as a negotiation rather than a force to command. Mercy aids Eliza’s survival while refusing the role of savior, having already learned the cost of standing too close to history’s center. During a looping battle, Eliza saves Thomas Reed, a Continental soldier who does not shift when time does. Thomas is an anchor: steady, observant, unchanged across iterations. Their bond deepens in an almost-normal village where time briefly behaves. Eliza’s intervention triggers time’s response. Rather than immediate destruction, time collects interest. Mercy bargains to spare Eliza and Thomas, sacrificing her own future to stabilize the present. Time extracts payment from Eliza as well, stripping away her voice, the very tool she uses to name and hold moments in place. Silenced and unmoored, Eliza is violently displaced back into the original battle. Unable to anchor the moment, she watches Thomas die in the version of history that was always waiting beneath her defiance. Told in rotating perspectives between Eliza, Thomas, and Mercy, The Hours That Refused to Behave is a lyrical time-travel novel about revolution, restraint, and consequence, asking not whether history can be changed, but who pays when it is.

"I've always knew you'd be the man to fuck me to heavens." The door opened on that comment and the man she least expected waltzed in. A smirk on his lips. "Tell me, how many times have I fucked you to heavens in your wild little imaginations, Gina?" ............... He’s my father's best friend, a father figure to me. But he's also the hottest man I've ever seen alive. With his fit, toned, and athletic build. He has plagued my dreams more time than I can count. Fucking me to heavens and back, and when the chance comes to experience him. It doesn't matter what it costs, even if it might be the end of me. I’m willing to let him ruin me.

I applied for paid time off to visit my wife, Luna Reid, a scientist who was away on an overseas assignment. As I was bored on the plane, I scrolled through social media when I was bored on the plane. Then, I came across a post. [My ex-girlfriend, who’s married, invited me to go on an overseas trip. What should I bring on that trip?] The netizens made fun of him. [Naturally you have to bring condoms. If you accidentally get her pregnant, her current husband will become the father of your child.] Some other netizens chastised them. Initially, I was reading it for my own entertainment. At that moment, I came across a comment left by a private account. [I’m that married ex-girlfriend. I hope that everyone can be mindful of their words.] [We’re not doing this for any immoral reasons. We just want to make up for lost time.] [The coming two weeks are the only time we have left together. I just want time to pass a little slower. I just ask for it to be a little slower.] I stared at that profile picture intently. The woman in the profile picture was none other than Luna, who had been overseas for three years. She had a two-week break, and she initially planned to return to the country to be with me. However, a day before her break, she suddenly told me that her research was at a critical stage, so her time-off had been cancelled. I missed her terribly, so I secretly applied for time off at work to give her a surprise. I had not expected that surprise to turn sour on me. At the same time, I received a text message from Luna. [Baby, starting tomorrow, for two weeks, my work has a do-not-disturb policy, so please don’t contact me.]

A soul lost in time. A suspended love story filled with yearning and longing. Such is the tale of The lord of the Underworld and his only Beloved. There is a myth about a town every 100 years on Halloween night; demons from the very pits of hell come up to the earth and roam the streets, blending into the disguised populous searching for the perfect bride for their Prince—the Prince of Darkness himself. Although believed to be merely a myth, this tale, though not entirely true, hold some truth. Will the Prince eventually find what he seeks? Will his thirst be quenched and his search over? One can only be that truth within the pages of this unfolding tale.

After eight years together, I've proposed to my boyfriend 108 times. Each time, he found a different excuse to turn me down. On the 109th try, I give up a promotion and transfer opportunity. Finally, he said yes. I think he's moved by my sincerity. But instead, he brings his first love into our marital home and falls into our bed with her. "I only proposed to her to spite you. If you just say the word, I'll dump her at the altar and marry you instead!" Staring at the scene before me, I take the tight engagement ring off my finger and toss it down the drain. I decide to call off the wedding before he can. But after I walk away, the man who swore he'd marry someone else went crazy searching for me everywhere.

The day my husband, Stellan Montclair, was killed in battle, my cousin, Daphne Langford, wept and declared she would follow him in death. No one asked for my opinion. By the time I arrived, they had already decided everything. In seven days, Daphne would be laid to rest alongside my husband in the Montclair family crypt, bearing the title of his lawful wife. When I stepped into the chapel, I found Daphne reclining on a cushioned chair with a damp cloth pressed to her forehead while my mother-in-law, Vivienne Prescott, personally spoon-fed her warm broth. Meanwhile, my son, Ansel Montclair, had been kneeling before the coffin for six hours straight, both legs so swollen that they were trembling. No one told him to get up. No one offered him a cushion to kneel on. Vivienne glanced up at me. "You're back. Daphne's being interred in the Montclair crypt as the lawful wife in seven days. See to the arrangements." In my previous life, I did not dare disobey. The entire capital praised Daphne for the depth of her devotion. Vivienne called her a woman of honor. The moment I so much as furrowed my brow, countless mouths stood ready to call me petty and small-hearted. Yet seven days later, Stellan came back from the dead. Only then did I learn that he had taken a death-feigning potion so that he could openly and rightfully marry Daphne. I was cast from wife to concubine and spent the rest of my life crushed under Daphne's thumb. My son was stripped of his status as the legitimate heir, barred from the family title, and left to scrape by among commoners for the rest of his days. This time, though, I was living it all over again. I crouched down and lifted Ansel from the cold stone floor. Then, I looked at Vivienne. "If her devotion runs that deep, let her be buried with him today."