He's Come Undone||C.B.
- Reads 55
- Votes 9
- Parts 4
MatureOngoing9m
Last published Tue, Dec 19, 2017
I looked into his eyes stunned,at the words he just uttered.
"You're a psychopath." I muttered .
He smirked with an ominous hint of joy and laughed .
"I prefer creative."
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"W-What do you want?" I stammered, my eyes not leaving his gaze on me. "I want to prove you wrong." he smirks dangerously and speaks with his husky, deep voice. He took another step towards me and I took another step back making me collide with the wall. He hovers over me, his chest mere inches away from mine. He kept his hand on either side of me, caging me in his arms. He smirks dangerously and says, "That your body doesn't crave for my touch." He always does this, he intimidates me and then thinks I die for his touch. I would never allow his hand near me. Again. I grit my teeth and said "My body doesn't." He leaned closer to me, his hard chest pressing against my hardened nipples and whispered near my ear "Then why are you so nervous, rose?" He kept his mouth near my ear and his hand came on my bare legs. He slowly trailed his big, rough hands, making his way under my skirt. My breath hitched and he stopped mere inches from my core. No matter how hard I try to deny his touch, my body responds exactly the way he wants. My spine arched and my eyes snapped close. He breathed near my ear and whispered in his husky voice filled with sins, "No matter how much you deny, your body always craves for my touch, wife." β€β€β€ Devansh Raichand, CEO of the top fashion label who only thrived for finding his father's murderer. But get his life tangled with Aisha Arora, an aspiring fashion designer, when he pays off her father's debt in exchange of marrying her. But what made him help her father? And why marry her? Just for the debt? or There's something more in this? But the most important, what will happen when fate decides to play its own cards? Will it wreck or strengthen them? β€β€β€ !!HIGHLY MATURE CONTENT!! !!POSSESSIVE MMC AND FMC!!
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He smiled. The devil himself couldn't have crafted a more wicked grin. "What do you say we play a game, little Reaper?" I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his intentions. "What kind of game?" His grin widened, showing the tips of his fangs. I watched the prince curiously as he strode over to his bag. With a swift motion, he withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, flinging them at my feet without so much as a second glance. I furrowed my eyebrows, casting him a look of uncertainty. That sinister grin stayed plastered upon his lips as he said, "Run." *** I, Skyla Ashforth, am what some might call a "sociopath." It was a title that fit. Why shouldn't I embrace it? I am a vampire slayer, a Reaper of bloodsuckers, and an exceptionally good one, if I do say so myself. Yes, being a sociopath has its perks; I could manipulate and deceive with the best of them. So, when captured by the notorious Red Prince, I embraced the challenge of manipulating my freedom. Pierce Darcee, was a sadistic vampire with a God complex. The fool actually believed he could break me. Little did he know, I was the kind of Reaper who would dance through a battlefield, whistling a merry tune as I twirled my braids. I relished the challenge of manipulating his oversized ego, planning to stab that rotting, blackened heart of his with a venom-laced dagger. I crafted a scheme so delightful, so intricate, that I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of victory. It was foolproof, or so my mind believed. But then... then there was that pull. That unexpected, unwelcome spark that ignited something within me. Feelings, of all things! Now, that was a complication. Disgusting, messy feelings that could very well lead to my destruction. Or his. It was a dangerous game we played, but then again, the most thrilling ones usually are. *Rated M for Murder, Mayhem, and some profanity. Sorry but no smutty interludes. You've stumbled into a blood bath, not a bodice ripper.*Complete
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When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Colby Brock. Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn't be that big of a deal since Colby is one of my good friends. And because he's still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I'm trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer. Boy, was I wrong. Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man. Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Colby to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs. But with great company, comes great consequences. Colby might be my friend and roommate but he's also my best friend's ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that's what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.Complete
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ππ§πππ§π¬π ππ¨π₯π₯π’π¬π’π¨π§ | 18+
βπππ―ππ’π π¬π’π¬π¨ππ’π & ππ’π€π¬π‘π ππ’π§π π‘ππ§π’πβ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {π πππΊππ½πΊπ πππΎ } | | Mature content 18+| |Complete
"W-What do you want?" I stammered, my eyes not leaving his gaze on me. "I want to prove you wrong." he smirks dangerously and speaks with his husky, deep voice. He took another step towards me and I took another step back making me collide with the wall. He hovers over me, his chest mere inches away from mine. He kept his hand on either side of me, caging me in his arms. He smirks dangerously and says, "That your body doesn't crave for my touch." He always does this, he intimidates me and then thinks I die for his touch. I would never allow his hand near me. Again. I grit my teeth and said "My body doesn't." He leaned closer to me, his hard chest pressing against my hardened nipples and whispered near my ear "Then why are you so nervous, rose?" He kept his mouth near my ear and his hand came on my bare legs. He slowly trailed his big, rough hands, making his way under my skirt. My breath hitched and he stopped mere inches from my core. No matter how hard I try to deny his touch, my body responds exactly the way he wants. My spine arched and my eyes snapped close. He breathed near my ear and whispered in his husky voice filled with sins, "No matter how much you deny, your body always craves for my touch, wife." β€β€β€ Devansh Raichand, CEO of the top fashion label who only thrived for finding his father's murderer. But get his life tangled with Aisha Arora, an aspiring fashion designer, when he pays off her father's debt in exchange of marrying her. But what made him help her father? And why marry her? Just for the debt? or There's something more in this? But the most important, what will happen when fate decides to play its own cards? Will it wreck or strengthen them? β€β€β€ !!HIGHLY MATURE CONTENT!! !!POSSESSIVE MMC AND FMC!!
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