Peerless Beauty の小説・ストーリー

She just doesn't allow herself to fully have the confidence and recognize that beauty. Her pale maroon eyes alone can be her one way ticket to be one of the world's highest paid supermodels. “Can we finally hangout for a little while? Can you squeeze us into your tight schedule even for just once?” If there's someone I can call to help me enhance my convincing skills, it's gotta be Paige Amistead.

"Ohhh, so what was ot you said you needed again?" While we were discussing and going through the designs, she walked in. Carter's Queen. The moment she walked through that door, I felt blown away. I didn't see her well yesterday but seeing her now in all her full glory, as her fellow woman, I was amazed by her beauty. I bet I don't stand a chance beside her but I wasn't going to get intimated. She smiled at her colleague who sat and I could swear that her white, well aligned dentition almost blind me. This is beauty in all its glory.

"I don't think I am presentable enough for those kinds of events, Andrew. And I wouldn't have anything to wear and..." "And? We can go shopping together, and have you seem yourself? You are beautiful." Jasmine said nothing, as a bit of heat flushed across her cheeks. She caught herself looking up to Zane again. This time, he seemed to be packing up and she gave a low sigh. "I will think about it." Andrew nodded. "We are going together, right?" Jasmine shrugged, then slowly stood up, her eyes fixed on Zane. He stood up too, and lifted his eyes to her. They met in one electrifying gaze, and she felt it again.

Bella said. " Wow, my big and small sis, I think this might not be the right time for all of these," Melissa said breaking the two up. Bella sighed before she went back to her seat. " Once again, thank you Bella, for listening to my advice. I hope you will truly be happy. You deserve the best," Zia said. She moved closer and glanced over at Bella's reflection. She was just too beautiful, her skin soft and delicate. Her dark hair was thick and beautiful that Zia couldn't help but run her fingers through them.

Because of their beauty. Oh, goddess. How could anyone look so breathtaking? Even though I had seen them before, they were still utterly stunning. They weren’t the muscular kind of attractive like most men. No, their beauty was something else entirely—refined, striking. They were flawless without looking feminine. Their faces were identical, sculpted so perfectly it felt as though the goddess had taken her time crafting a masterpiece.

“This is a one-of-a-kind piece. The atelier only produces this design once every decade, if that. When I saw you, I knew immediately. It suits you perfectly.” Ashera’s throat tightened. Her hand rose slowly to touch the stone, fingertips brushing the surface. It was smooth, but pulsed faintly beneath her skin, almost like it was alive. “I… it’s beautiful,” she whispered. Behind her, Nia took a long sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving the reflection. She tilted her head and let out a breathy little hum. “Babe,” she said, “that’s not just beautiful. That’s otherworldly.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You look like a goddess who got tired of Olympus and came down here to slay.”

It would be a close call. I looked at the mirrors and turned to praising her, for being so sexy and beautiful while making a baby. She was not the gay Madison Avenue vision of skinny beauty - too skinny to make babies - that image they had sold to Americans in commercials for beer and sports and movies and sexy cars, etc. Instead a real, all-around picture of beauty and health and fitness, a classical, timeless beauty, a Mediterranean beauty that is real, full figured with hips to bring children, an image the whole world admires. Then I wove the two thoughts together.

When I found out I was going to die, I accepted it with ease. My mate, Simon Knightley, came to me with a sullen expression and said, "Zora, Laila has been in poor health since birth. She's an Omega with the weakest healing ability. "One of her kidneys is failing, and she needs a transplant to survive."

Her jeans are tight, her oversized gray hoodie slightly off one shoulder. She looks... beautiful. She's always been beautiful. I admit begrudgingly. But her beauty is like shattered glass, sharp and dangerous, a reflection of something long gone. Something fake. Compared to that piccolina that rejected thirty million dollars, who is, I'll admit, very beautiful in her own right, Nichole's beauty is more daring and seductive. It doesn't carry that innocence Alera's face carries. This is the face of a woman, who has seen life and lived it.

I went for a facial with my bestie, Tanya Tomlinson, at a beauty salon that went viral online recently. Just as we stepped foot in that salon, we were immediately greeted by good-looking six-foot-tall hunks. A man in a black suit who resembled a celebrity approached us. He addressed Tanya like they were old friends. "Tanya, it's been a while. Are you here for a facial or hairdo?" Tanya flicked her sexy wavy curls and smirked at the man. "I'm here for a facial. This is my best friend, Daphne Monterey. She's here for the first time. I'll entrust her to you."