Story cover for The Perfect Relationship| 21 + |  by luciferwriting
The Perfect Relationship| 21 + |
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    Parts 2
  • WpHistory
    Time 12m
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𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ♡  by TaleweaverEmber
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𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ~𝑨 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 •⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆𐙚 𝐕𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐍 ♡ 𝐑𝐔𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐀 Ruhanika, a quiet introvert with a passion for books and study. She thrives in the world of words, finding solace in the pages of her favorite novels. Shy and reserved, but don't be fooled-when it comes to her loved ones, she's feisty and stands her ground. Vihaan, a fun-loving extrovert who dominates both the social scene and academics. His infectious energy brightens up even the dullest of classrooms. Despite being a backbencher, he always manages to be the top student. Now, what will happen when Ruhanika's quiet world clashes with Vihaan's lively personality, creating an unexpected whirlwind of emotions? Will their rivalry turn into an unexpected romance, filled with surprising twists? Let's delve into their story...!! 𝐀 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦-𝐂𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞..!(⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠) --------------------------------- ✿𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: 。⁠.゚𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐗 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭 。⁠.゚𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 。⁠.゚𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐗 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 。⁠.゚𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 。⁠.゚𝐑𝐨𝐦-𝐜𝐨𝐦 。⁠.゚𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 。⁠.゚𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 -------------------------------- Give this story a chance I am sure you won't regret it...!! Don't come to a conclusion before at least reading 15 chapters..!! DON'T COPY OR REPOST MY STORY🚫
Sanctified Sins by eroticquills
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Hottest Smut 18+❗⚠️ I never believed in God. Not the way I was supposed to. Not when men like Father Matthias stood at the pulpit with blood in their eyes and control in their hands, preaching about purity with clenched fists and clipped tongues. But I believed in him. The way his gaze stripped me bare when he thought I wasn't looking. The way he bit back growled when my skirt rode too high on the pew. The way his voice broke whenever I said, "Forgive me, Father," and knelt in front of him behind the dark screen. And I knew he believed in me, too. Not in my soul. Not in my salvation. In my ruin. He wanted to ruin me. I could taste it in the way he whispered my name like a curse, like a psalm. Feel it in the way his fingers twitched every time I brushed past in the narrow hallway behind the altar. And the first time it happened? It was thunderstorm-dark. Rain hammering against stained glass. Candles flickering, shadows licking the walls like firelight in hell. I told him I needed a confession. I told him I'd sinned. He opened the door. Let me inside. Locked it. And said, "Show me." So I lifted my skirt. Slipped my soaked panties down my thighs. Got on my knees right there in the booth where sinners begged for mercy. He didn't offer absolution. He offered his cock. And I took it, mouth open, eyes closed, moaning around him as he gripped my hair and thrusted his guilt into my throat. No prayers. Just panting. Just sin. When he came, he did it with a growl of my name and a muttered, "God help me." But God wasn't listening. Only I was. And I wanted more.
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As their interaction becomes more intense, so is the twist among them and their lack of option in the situations ther are in.