Sonic Kissing Knuckles 소설 & 이야기

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

“Shush” he cuts her off. “Raise up your skirt right now” “Master…” He cuts in again. “Raise up your skirt right now and don’t make me repeat myself” She took a deep breathe, this is not the first time he has punished her this way, It started a month ago. “Okay master” She raised up her uniform skirt and her white panties came to view, his eyes bulging out. He swallowed. “You’re beautiful, it’s like each time you raise that beautiful skirt of yours up, it’s my first. Come here, I want you to see yourself” he hold her by the hand and takes her to the mirror. “Look at yourself, you’re beautiful. Your legs are slender and you’ve got such a nice crutch” he admires her as she watches herself, her skirt still raised. He bent down and began to kiss her legs, kissing all the way up to her neck. He grabbed her ass from behind trailing kisses om her beck before one of his hand rested oh her boobs and the other went into her panties rubbing her clit and squeezing her full boobs hard. “I heard you’re a virgin too” he moaned as he nibbled her ear continuing his attack on her innocent body. “Are you done master?” She asked ready to run away and go confess her sinful thoughts and to put her body to punishment for wanting more. “Done? Oh honey, I’m just getting started with you” with that he released her boobs from the shackles of a bra and tore her shirt pressing her to the mirror, he breast on it waiting and screaming to be sucked. “What a lewd thought!” She quarrels herself. He dragged her pant up, seperating her pussy lips with it.

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

"Do you take Asher Williams as your lawfully wedded husband" the priest asked me I bit my lips and look over to my Dad who had an expressionless face , my step mom glared at me I scoff "yes" He turn to the handsome man by my side, I must admit although I don't want to get married , this man is so handsome with beautiful eyes , thin lips, tall, with abs I drool "and do you take Cheryl Kingsley as your lawfully wedded wife?" I snapped from my thoughts and waited for his reply Part of me hope he would say no and stop the wedding and part of me hope he would say yes "Yes" he replied The priest smiled "you may kiss your bride" He turn to look at me and frown " No" I could hear a chuckle from my step mom "Kissing girls is bad" he said I raise a brow what is wrong with him? An elderly woman rush to the alter and whisper something into his ears He stare at me I was becoming impatient , what a disgrace I held him and force my lips on his I felt a force push me from him I fell hitting my ass on the ground, it didn't hurt much because of the thickness of the wedding gown He pushed me! Me! I wanted to stand up and give him a piece of my mind but looking at the congregation, their mocking smile , I couldn't , I felt so embarrassed thank goodness the only people invited were friends and family But still,all those girls that look at me like an untouchable goddess I felt like crying , I bit my lips and remained on the ground pretending I've lost consciousness and hoping the ground would open up and swallow me

“I’ve got you,” His free hand finds my waist again, keeping me anchored. “I won’t let go unless you tell me to.” My breath hitches but I don't move away, still fixing my gaze back at him. Water droplets cling to his eyelashes and his hair is slicked back from his face, his blue eyes reflecting the moonlight. Fuck. He looks so dreamy and beautiful and utterly unguarded with me. I wonder if I look the same to him too. Gently, the water laps at our shoulders, cool against my heated skin that is burning for his touch. Our eyes are still locked on each other, our faces merely inches apart. I want him. I want him so much that I don't want to stop wanting him. This pull between us has tortured me long enough and for so long, I have fought it. Restrained it. But now, I am done fighting it. Without warning, I cup his face and crash my lips to his mouth, shutting my eyes and damning the consequences. He takes in a sharp breath, an adrenaline of desire rushing through me like wildfire at the sound before he pulls me flush against him, his lips kissing me back with a hunger that instantly fuels the fire blazing through my veins. My hands move up and fist into his wet hair, tugging at the strands and drawing out a pleasurable groan from him. He wants me. He craves me just as much as I crave him. And I am glad we're both on the same page of this temptation. ~ They stole my powers, murdered my loved ones, and killed me. But now, I am back for vengeance—and the Lycan Prince is mine!

Just then, he pulled her closer to him and placed his hands softly on her waist. Belle’s heart was racing faster than it had ever done before. She couldn’t believe what was happening. He was taller than her and she loves a man who was taller than her. Ronnie’s brain reeled from sensory overload. Belle’s honeysuckle scent,her red velvet lips, shoved him to the brink. It had been a long time. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her. He leaned forward, looking into her eyes, he whispered in her ear with a soft voice; “Can i kiss you?” Belle was almost trembling but not because she was afraid. It was because she had waited for this moment and it was finally happening. She stared right back into his eyes and nodded in consent. Ronnie smiled at her softly. She could tell he was pleased by her approval. He pulled her closer again. This time, so his body was brushing against hers. Her boobs were touching his broad and chiseled chest. He could see her black bra through the dress she wore which showed off her cleavage. It drove him wild seeing them. She felt him nudging at her lower thighs. He felt really big she thought. He breathed deeply as he ran his hands through her hair and face. He softly held her chin up closer to his face so his lips could touch her soft moisturized lips and then he kissed her. Her lips felt so soft he couldn’t stop kissing them. She wondered if she had finally found the perfect guy to prove to her friends she’s a real lover girl and not a nonchalant girl who hates or doesn’t really care about love.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

Russell James called me plain. He said I didn't have what it took to drive a man crazy, then crawled back into bed with the supermodel he'd been hiding from me. I found out the hard way, with my own eyes and what little dignity I had left. By then, he'd already signed his professional football contract, become a rising star, and decided I was no longer in his league. A year later, my life is falling apart. My mother's surgery is unaffordable. My younger brother's hockey dreams are slipping away. My final semester fees are overdue. Then my half-sister offers me a deal. Seduce a powerful fashion executive at an elite Madrid nightclub and help secure her place in Europe's most prestigious fashion show. In return, my family's problems disappear. I say yes. I spend the night with the man she described. By morning, I discover I've slept with the wrong man. "Connor?" he repeats, amused. "My name's Andre." Andre Fernandez. Real Numancia de Madrid's golden boy. Europe's most sought-after footballer. Forty-eight million followers. A €150 million market value. And the biggest rival of the ex-boyfriend who shattered my heart. Before I can process what happened, Andre finds me. He clears my family's debts and makes one impossible demand: "Be my girlfriend." I say no. Andre Fernandez clearly isn't used to hearing that word. When paparazzi catch us kissing at a high-profile party, the internet explodes. To save Andre's reputation, his PR team pushes us into a fake relationship complete with staged appearances, rehearsed interviews, and public displays of affection. None of it is supposed to be real. Except the longer we pretend, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends. Russell sees the photographs and is annoyed at his rival's proximity to me.

" How could you kill the man who saved your life and treated you like his own son, you bastard? " He kept looking at her with dark features, while she continued her crazily screaming "You killed my father and everyone, you exterminated the vampire clan, you mangy dog!" She struggled to hide her pain, while Lucien wiped away the blood that covered his hands "The answer is easy. I wanted to be the king of this world. Your father didn't save me Amelia. He treated me like a scoundrel. He killed my mother and took advantage of me." She shook her head in denial, while looking at him in shock " What heart do you have, you are not Lucian I know " "I'm a werewolf Amelia, I don't have a heart, so get over it and forget about it." Amelia got up and rushed to attack him, he grabbed her tightly and put her hands behind her back, her eyes were burning with anger, Lucien smiled, bringing his lips to hers "you love Me" "Yes, madly, but as much as I used to love you, I now hate you. The old Amelia is dead. I will live now only to avenge you." Lucien smiled, kissing her deeply, she tried to get away from him, but to no avail, he only moved away after he bled her lips. "I, Lucien Rodarte, rejecte you, Amelia Stuart, as my mate ." Her eyes widened, and he looked at him in astonishment, as he tore the last thread that held them together "I've always wanted to do this" He whispered, leaving her in the midst of her shock. Amelia had lost everything that day, her kingdom, her father, her brother, herself, and even her mate ...

Jessiah is a make-up artist aspiring to break into the modeling and beauty industry. She moves to LA when she lands a job at one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood. On her first week on the job, she meets Jenson Ross, a big-deal actor with a murky past and a dark secret only a privileged few know about. × Genres: Romance, Werewolf, Crime EXCERPT [BOOK I of CALI ALPHAS ] _ _ _ "Dollface," he murmured with a little smirk. He snickered and caressed the back of her head, pulling her closer to his chest. "You're like an antidepressant, in human form." Her breath caught.  Her heart sped up when his hug tightened. His warm face pressed onto her neck, his strong hands lightly squeezing her hips. Moments like this only worsened her attraction to him.  The flirty jokes, the easy conversations, the small smiles, his furtive glances, and his unusually sweet gestures lately... She was in deep trouble. Was he kissing her neck?  Shit. He was no longer thinking straight.  About this. About her. About the consequences. He drew her closer when she tried to pull away. As if he didn't want her out of his sight. While his beard scraped her skin, his thighs touched hers. Her throat ached as he stared into her eyes. "Dammit," he sighed, his thumb tracing the curve of her neck, his touch both gentle and eager.  "Why are you so f-cking beautiful?"  "Joss, I need to g—" "Why now?" he murmured, stroking her cheek. He wasn't acting drunk or playing with her.  Not like this. He wouldn't. Not with her real feelings barely held together by some unspoken truths. Otherwise he wouldn't dare let it get this far.  But why wouldn't he let go? "Just stay. Please. Stay here with me." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _