johnson090

Wanting more Abby💕 My tits sway back and forth, and I thank God I have small ones, or they’d be damn near slapping me in the face. The guy behind me—I can’t remember his name at the moment—grunts his way through pounding into my pussy. His hands dig into my hips and sweat drips onto my back. My walls clench around his hard cock, but it still isn’t enough. I need more. My stomach starts cramping and sweat—not from the sex itself, but from the insistent need for release—forms on my brow. Fisting the sheets in my hands, I ram my hips back to meet his relentless thrusts. Looking over my shoulder, I growl, “Either fuck me harder or get the hell out so I can find someone to do it for me.” The hands on my hips tighten, and I know it’ll leave a mark later. I don’t care. I just need this guy to get the job done before the pain takes over. “Fuck, babe,” he groans. “I fuck you any harder, I’ll plow you into the mattress.” “Just do it,” I hiss. “Jesus,” he grunts, but does as he’s told and slams his hip bones into my ass as he pumps into me forcefully. I straighten my arms when his thrusts push my body forward. A blissful sigh leaves my lips, followed by a low moan when he finally hits the spot I need him to. My fingers start to tingle from lack of circulation, so I unwrap them from the sheet. My body starts to quiver with the first ripple of my orgasm. I close my eyes, and tiny sparks of light shoot behind my lids as the cramps in my stomach turn to flutters of delight. I lower my arms and lay my head against the cool sheets as immense pleasure takes over my body. The guy behind me still pounds away, jerking my hips back to him. I pay him no mind, content to just lay here and let him have at it. I got what I needed from him, it’s only fair that he reaches his peak as well. Several minutes pass before he grunts and stiffens behind me. He releases my hips, and I immediately drop to the bed. He falls down beside me with his arm thrown over his eyes, breathing heavily. Now that my brain is functioning properly again, his name comes back to me in a flash Matt. Matt was my lifesaver for the night. As appreciative as I am of him, I really need him to go now; I don’t like it when they linger. I may need sex from men on a daily basis to keep my sanity, but I don’t let them stay afterwards. I don’t do relationships. I know I’m a bitch—using men for sex and discarding them—but I have a damn good reason. I roll to my side and get out of bed. I bend with my ass facing Matt to pick up his clothes to toss at him. I lost my modesty a long time ago, and if it wasn’t for my job, or the fact I would get arrested for indecent exposure, I’d never wear clothes. It would make things so much easier when the need took hold. During the day I’m fine, but by the time evening rolls around, the urge grips me tight and leaves me in a near panicked state. I came so close to having an anxiety attack tonight. I thought I would have to call my friend, Nathan, to come rescue me. Luckily, Matt showed up and caught my eye at the perfect time. And here we are now, an hour later, with him still lying on my bed, and me standing with my hands on my hips, glaring at him. He didn’t take the hint when his clothes landed on his stomach, so it looks like I’m going to have to be blunter. I reach out with a foot and nudge his leg. “Hey, it’s time to go.” His arm moves, showing off sleepy, plain brown eyes. “Can’t you give a guy a minute to recover?” he mutters. “No. I need you to leave right now,” I tell him. I spy my panties on the floor and pick them up to slip up my hips. I’m exhausted, and want nothing more than to sleep. A niggle of guilt tries to worm its way in with how I’m treating this guy, but I push it back. I’ve learned the hard way over the years that in order to keep my inner emotions intact, I’d have to build a steel wall around myself. I hate being a bitch, but it’s the only way to protect myself. Only a handful of people know the real me. Matt grumbles as he drags himself from the bed. I ignore him and pull on a cami, sans bra. Using the hair tie from my wrist, I pull my thick blonde hair up into a ponytail as I wait for him to finish. I tap my fingers on the doorframe I’m leaning against, while he sits on my bed and pulls on his shoes. It’s normally the guys that are hell-bent on leaving as soon as they are done, but not this guy. He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s grating on my nerves. He finally stands and makes his way over to me. I’m just about to turn around and lead him to the door when he boxes me in by planting his hands on the doorframe on either side of me. “

The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss. As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family. In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter. I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate. I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath. Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again. She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house.

Once the cherished heiress of the Douglas family, she lost everything when her parents were brutally murdered and she was framed by her own blood. Labeled a criminal, she was cast into prison with no one to trust and nothing to her name. Six years later, she returns-not as a broken woman, but as the Scarlet Valkyrie, the deadliest warrior in all of Juzora. Her aim is flawless, her signature weapon Manjusaka strikes without mercy, and her name alone sends tremors through the underworld. With one hand, she saves her ailing grandmother with the precision of a master healer. With the other, she takes down Draco City's most ruthless criminals. But her true purpose is vengeance. Every debt owed, every wound inflicted, every lie told-she will settle them all, with interest. The war goddess has returned. And the ones who wronged her are about to learn what it means to face the wrath of a legend.

She was small, too small and too slender too. Her hair, blood red, formed a halo around her body, softly grazing her back. He had noticed specks of dirt on her body but they failed to hide the loveliness and tenderness of her skin, which he could bet would shine once it was cleaned. To put it simply, she was lovely, far more beautiful than any of the other brides, despite the injury on her forehead, which had reduced in size significantly, but still angered him. He couldn't get a glimpse of her eyes because her head was turned from his but its image was already stuck to his head, a soft violet, which he assumed would gleam if she smiled. She wasn't smiling though, hadn't smiled since he met her and he had assumed that she hardly ever did. A similarity they probably both shared. He,again, remembered the swelling on her forehead which got his blood heated. What made the people of this town hate her so vehemently? What could the lovely, innocent looking girl have probably done to have deserved being thrust upon him? ........................................ 18 year old Leila has had a difficult life. Having lost her parents at the young age of 10, she has had to battle to survive, weaving her way through predators, rapists and murderers along the way. However, nothing could have possibly prepared her for the beast of a man whom she was suddenly bound to as wife... ....................................... 31 year old Voloukh, leader of men torn from their homes at a young age to act as slave warriors for the Kingdom of Ultar, has been brutally carved to be a killing machine. His features are enough to bestow fear upon the hearts of anyone who dare to gaze upon him. The Beast of the Woods, as he is referred to is hence, shocked when a girl with the most beautiful violet eyes he has ever seen, which however, gaze upon him with trepidation and horror, is given to him to wed...

Emberly, an esteemed scientist of the Imperial Federation, took her own life after completing important research. She was reborn, and just like in her first life, she was born into a wealthy family. She could’ve lived a carefree and prosperous life. However, the babies got mixed up in the hospital and she was taken home by another family from the countryside. Her foster parents later found out the truth and brought her to her real family, but they didn’t like her. Her evil adopted sister even loathed her. She was framed and ultimately, she died in prison. But in her next life, she refused to stay a coward and swore she would take revenge on all who wronged her. She would only care about those who were truly good to her and turn a blind eye to her heartless family. In one life, she had once experienced darkness and been trampled upon like an ant. In another, she had stood on top of the world. This time, she only wished to live for herself. As if a switch had gone on inside of her, she suddenly became the best at everything she put her mind to. He won the math contest, topped the college entrance exams, and solved an age old question... Later, she garnered countless scientific research achievements. People who had once slandered her and looked down on her cried bitterly and begged her for a patent authorization. She just sneered at them. No way! This was a world without faith, but the world put their faith in her. Austin, the heir to a powerful aristocratic family in the imperial capital, was cold-hearted and decisive. He scared anyone who laid eyes on him. Unbeknownst to everyone, he doted on one woman: Emberly. Nobody knew that his desire for her grew stronger with every passing day. She brought light to his originally dull and gloomy life.

A forced marriage. A cursed dragon king. And a love that could destroy them both." To stop a centuries-old war, Princess Evelynn is forced to marry King Darius, the ruthless Dragon Lord. But she is no ordinary bride-she is a sacrifice. A prophecy warns that if Darius loves her, he will burn the world to ashes. Evelynn plans to escape, but when she learns the dark secret behind his curse, she must make an impossible choice: her freedom or his soul. But can she love a man whose very touch could destroy her? 🔥 Perfect for fans of forbidden romance, dangerous secrets, and powerful dragon kings. 📖 Read now and enter a world of magic, fate, and love that defies destiny.

They call Marcus Chen a god-killer. A thief. An abomination. The truth? He's the only mortal who survived when Ares died on top of him, bleeding divinity into his veins. Now every pantheon in Chicago wants him dead before he finishes transforming into something that shouldn't exist, a god born from human flesh. Marcus has three days before execution. Three days to control the power that's burning him alive. Three days to expose the real conspiracy behind Ares's murder. The old gods ruled for millennia. Marcus Chen might be the last god they ever fear.

My eyes snapped open. I was five years old again, held in my father's strong arms, his face etched with worry as he sighed, "Alright, Ava, I'll marry her." The words struck me cold: Chloe Raine, my art tutor, my future stepmother, my murderer. In my last life, that exact sentence sealed my grim fate. I, a naive child, had cried for him to marry her, desperate for a mother. Chloe used my innocent longing to infiltrate the Hamilton name and wealth, only to end my life years later, once she was pregnant with her own child, by exploiting my severe peanut allergy. I remembered the chilling staged kidnapping, the car trunk, and her cold voice arranging to dump my body, every detail of the darkness, fear, and ultimate betrayal. Now, I was inexplicably back, reborn at this precise, fateful moment. My five-year-old body sobbed in my father's embrace, but inside, a cold, adult rage simmered, burning away any trace of childish innocence. This time, things would be profoundly different. Chloe, standing nearby with a barely hidden triumphant smirk, believed she had won. She wanted into the Hamilton family, but I would ensure she regretted that wish for the rest of her miserable life, turning my doting father, my powerful grandmother Eleanor, and our fiercely loyal staff into my unsuspecting instruments of a long, agonizing vengeance.

The bitter wind howled, a physical assault as I clung to the side of the mountain. Every breath burned, a painful reminder of the treacherous climb. Just yards away, my husband, Ethan, knelt beside Sarah, his childhood sweetheart, his voice a low, soothing murmur that reached her but not me. "Ethan!" I screamed, my voice raw and thin, "I' m hurt! My ankle…and my stomach…" He turned, his face a mask of irritation, a cold dismissal in his eyes as he snapped, "Stop being so dramatic, Chloe. Sarah is fragile. You' re strong enough." I fell to my knees in the deep snow, the pain in my abdomen intensifying. "Ethan, the baby! Our baby!" I cried out, the words tearing from my throat. He froze for a second, a flicker of something in his eyes before Sarah whimpered, and his expression hardened. He thought I was lying, trying to manipulate him. He pried my numb fingers from his pant leg, his touch rough, then shoved me. My head hit the jagged rock, the world exploding in white-hot pain. My last clear sight was of Ethan scooping Sarah into his arms, turning his back, and walking away, leaving me bleeding and broken in the storm. I tried to call out again, to scream about the ultrasound in my wallet, the one I was going to show him, but he barely paused as Sarah whispered something to him, pointing back at me with a dismissive gesture. He walked on, his pace quickening, a shrinking dark spot in a world of white. That was the moment I knew. I wasn' t just abandoned; I was erased. My body was found, and the truth of my pregnancy was revealed, shattering his meticulously crafted lies. His career, his reputation, everything crumbled. Then, he learned Sarah's vile secret: she had known I was dying and had deliberately made sure I couldn't be found. The monstrous truth ignited a primal rage in him. He found her, his wife's killer, and exacted a brutal, watery vengeance without a single moment of pity. He left her drowned, just as he had left me to freeze. He survived, living with the ghost of his actions until my father, with a quiet, terrifying resolve, finally delivered his own brand of justice. My father trapped him, just like I was, in a concrete pit. I watched, a detached soul, as he descended into the earned darkness, his screams echoing. He would not follow me. Finally, I was free.

Betrayed by the two people she trusted most - her husband and her foster sister-turned-best friend - Lilith dies with regrets. But fate has other plans. Granted a second chance by a mysterious system, she wakes up in the past. This time... She won't be naive. This time, she'll rewrite her destiny. On the first day of her rebirth, she crosses paths with Dean: a disarmingly gorgeous, silver-haired man who proposes a fake engagement to help her. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to draw the line between real and pretend. With the past betrayal still fresh in her mind, Lilith must decide- Will she risk her heart again... or keep her eyes on the prize?

The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket. "Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived. My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before. My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason. Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible. But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.'