Wakfu Goultard x Rubilax
- Reads 103
- Votes 3
- Parts 3
MatureOngoing6m
Last published Fri, Mar 29, 2019
Most of the things in this story aren't true but this story has two mpregs so if you don't like that you don't have to read this but I have nothing against Dally. Rubilax is finally getting his freedom but with that comes his memory which he wasn't ready for. But he soon discovers secrets and the only person who is willing to help him is Goultard and soon he discovers that feelings that still have a flame could never be forgotten or erased forever. Will Rubilax and Goultard got together or will something keep them apart again?
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In the aftermath of her twin sister's tragic death, Reagan Sinclair finds herself in a never-ending battle against paralyzing panic attacks and drowning in grief. Desperate to just survive each day, Reagan's world is turned upside down when Paris unexpectedly enters her life, offering her a chance to explore a world of dominance she never knew she needed. As Reagan delves into a journey of self-discovery and passion, she must confront her suppressed emotions surrounding her sister's passing and her growing dependence on Paris. Join Reagan on a gripping adventure of love, loss, and finding the strength to heal in the face of unimaginable pain. "Why not?" I whisper against his lips, I want him closer to my body, I want it so badly it's almost painful. The sensation spreads through me like a relentless throbbing, engulfing my entire body. Paris pulls away to look at me, and his eyes are darker, deeper. I swallow at the primal desire pouring from his stare, eyes widening when he wraps his hand around my neck, his thumb stroking as it bobs. Almost instinctively, I raise my hand and put it over his, making him squeeze tighter. Paris growls low in his throat, and I close my eyes, marveling at the way every single nerve ending lights up. "Why not?" I ask again, just wishing he'd close the space between us. Just wishing he'd touch me. "No. This is wrong and I'm sorry I let it get this far. I'm older than you, love. You're so fucking young. This is......no," "I'm twenty, not seventeen, and I don't care. It doesn't matter," it's the wrong thing to say because when I open my eyes, he's shaking his head, his eyes locked on the wall near my head with an unreadable expression on his face. He removes his hand from around my throat, and the other slides slowly up my side and grips my waist, putting me more firmly against the wall. "No, Reagan," he says through clenched teeth, turning around and going to his room. I flinch at the sound of his bedroom door closing.
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