❝Read me your favorite pieces of poetry while I please you❞ I feel his hardness grow underneath me and watch as his chest begins to rise and fall. His lips part open with heavy breaths. I begin to unbutton his shirt slowly, kissing down his neck almost in the worse and possible - teasing way. The cross necklace lying there, his holiness slipping away inch by inch as I leave my sins along his untainted skin. "P-Please" The deep vibration I feel against my lips as they stay on his pulse. I smile and lift my head, with one slow grind of my hips. Alessio let's a hot moan fall from lips. His erection grows harder, as well as the pulse of my clit. My pussy directly above him. "Read to me Alessio" - Honey Rose is a eighteen year old nymphomaniac sin, her desire for sexual pleasure and the way words slipped off her tongue easily without regret, get her sent to Hartford Academy. Where studies and religion are the only things allowed to be spoken in the halls. In which a nymph corrupts the innocence of her Dean's Son. Cover by : RoseEmiliaSnape Highest Rankings - #1 in badgirlgoodboy. #1 in nymph. #1 in unholy. #1 in tension. #1 in naughty. #1 in boarding-school. #2 in forbidden. #2 in tutor. #5 in seduction. #6 in unholy. #7 in lust. #10 in innocent. #11 in temptation.

❝Come on beautiful, how long are you going to pretend that I'm not the reason for that❞ His eyes glide down my body and stop at my thighs that had mindlessly pressed themselves together. "When you stop pretending I'm not the reason for that" I gesture towards his legs this time, his thighs parted and the hard erection showing through his pants. I can't help but clear my throat at the print. He stands up, with no shame. Not even trying to cover or adjust himself, he only walks towards me as I sit on the chair in his office. With the nudge of his foot, he parts my legs so he can step between them, lifting my chin with his index finger and I meet those enchanting eyes. He leans closer to my ear and his hand finds its place on my thigh, causing my skin to become warmer. "I'm not pretending beautiful, I will happily admit you're the one that gets me this hard any day." Grace Kennedy is smart, beautiful and kind. She's studying to become a doctor one day but before she can afford all the expenses, she works with her mother in her family's bakery. Mariano is a man of charms and far too handsome for his own good. Emerald green eyes that could be mistaken for the actual jewel itself. His entire life revolved around his four year old daughter and his younger brother. Grace couldn't ignore how shy she felt around him as she grew to see him even more. Doing her best to keep the charming man at arm's length, it was hard to do when he knew exactly how to rile her up. She was his Beautiful Addiction. Extended Description in Introduction!

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN