Death By Jon.
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- Parts 3
Ongoing11m
Last published Thu, May 7, 2020
I killed myself. My suicide wasn't done in the traditional sense though, not by a razor blade and the slow, fluid movement of cold metal sliding through my skin. It wasn't completed by a rope hanging from the ceiling, with a noose around my neck. My murder wasn't from an object or pills I forced down my throat; it was done by a disease. It was slow at first, eating away at my thoughts and my words. Then, it was fast, tearing through my heart and my emotions. A disease that started with a smile.
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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." ✤✤✤ 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? ✤✤✤ !!HIGHLY MATURE CONTENT!! !!POSSESSIVE MMC AND FMC!!
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I was walking to work one morning when a bag gets thrown over my head and I'm jerked back by two arms encircling my waist. My parents always told me this could happen as my father is the judge and put a high profile murderer behind bars. He set the bail at 1.2 million dollars and I honestly don't know why my father is still alive. I was in the courtroom but the little girl who was sitting next to me- maybe thirteen, so not really little- said there's no way he did it. Kids are a pretty good judge of character but I had to agree that some things looked off when the evidence was shown. The next thing I know the bag is pulled up some and a rag is put over my mouth and nose. I cringe inwardly at how cliché it is but hey chloroform does the trick and I'm out before we started moving.
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