My Slave is my Fiancée?!

My Slave is my Fiancée?!

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WpMetadataReadOngoing2h 7m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 24, 2020
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Fiction
Romance
Paano pag nalaman mong ang slave mo ay iyong fiancée?! At ito pa, nagpanggap kayong mag girlfriend, boyfriend para lang makatakas dyan sa 'kalokohan' (which is sabi ni kenshin) ng mga magulang nyo! Ano naman kaya ang magiging reaksyon ng mga magulang nyo pag nakitang magkasama kayo? Marami pang revelation na magaganap kaya basahin niyo na at subay bayan ang story nila Kenshin Brent at Kasey Smith *^_^* This is my first story so expect some grammatical error, typos etc. Kung perfectionist ka, pinapangunahan na kita. Wag mo nang ituloy na basahin pa *_*
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#84
kasey
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"Aap... yahan?" He stopped just inches away. Too close. Their breaths tangled. Her heart pounded in her ears. " Akhirkar 6 mahine ki aankh micholi ke baad aap samne he mere..." "Pahli mulakat yaadgar honi chahiye na jaan... (leaning in, lips almost touching hers) please don't stop me..." The first brush of his lips against hers was gentle, almost too gentle for the intensity between them. But the moment he felt the warmth of her lips, the floodgates opened. The kiss deepened - demanding, possessive, and yet tender, as though he was trying to memorize every sensation. Once he finds her breathless, he left her lips with a pop sound and move little away just to see her now ruined lipstick and flushed cheeks... "Roshni...Tum meri ho..." "Rudra... I..." "Don't say anything jaan. I will take care of everything from here onwards..Just feel this...feel me..feel us" RUDRA JAIN: 26, Ruthless, reclusive, untouchable, mysterious, CEO,Dominant. Brilliant mind, calculated tone, controlled body language. Only lets his guard down when no one's watching... except Roshni. Roshni is his hell,his heaven and his everything in between ROSHNI GUPTA, 23, Soft. Warm. Hopeful, Aspiring Jewellery designer,Kind-hearted, curious, intuitive Never afraid to speak her mind, but hates conflict 🚦Never imagined that one stolen glance at a red light and one humble order from her could start a fire she couldn't control. And once they met: 👀Glances that burn. He watches her like she's a sin he wants to commit over and over again. Her gaze? A challenge. A dare. Not every argument ends in silence. Some end with her pinned against a wall, his breath on her neck, the storm outside matching the one inside them. Soft apologies tangled in sheets and bare skin. 🫱 Hands that wander. Not by accident. Not hesitant anymore. craving, claiming, consuming. ☕ Coffee cups with lipstick stains and Coffee growing cold while their bodies stay warm

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