More Than Just Bad
- Reads 125
- Votes 9
- Parts 3
Ongoing9m
Last published Sun, Oct 25, 2015
Jasmine. That's my name, my parents named something I'm not. They named me after a flower that inspires pureness, love, and joy. I'm nothing like that. I am not pure, I have the scars to prove it. I don't love, or am loved by anyone, I have a past that haunts me every second I breath. I don't feel joy, there's no point in it.
My parents have been long gone from the world, but their money remains, I have everything they left behind. My guardian, Lilith was my mother's best friend, had sold our old house, and carried me away to a different state called California. I have a chance to start over, she said. And it was true, I did. An idea formed as we moved in our new house. I wanted to be more than just bad.
I wanted to erase everything that defined the word Jasmine.
I wanted the word to be just as corrupted as me.
But then I met someone who loved the word Jasmine.
Someone who loved me.
I ask myself, Can he change me for the better or the worse?
I didn't know.
.
.
.
But maybe you will.
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Warning: DARK ROMANCE Story contains detailed mature scenes possessing dubious consent not recommended for age group below 18 years old. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Prologue Shadows engulfed his angelic features oozing devilish intentions. It wasn't until he took a step towards her did the gravity of situation descended upon and even then she couldn't do anything but shake in fear. She knew making a run for it won't do a thing, calling was not an option and if she screamed...she opened her mouth to shrill but a meek plea came out. Her body's lack of response terrified her, tears gathered in her orbs with horrible anticipation. With his each step nearer she gripped the frame of her window tighter hoping to keep her balance. It took him three steps to be inches away from her body. He slowly took his suit jacket off, making himself comfortable as he amusingly watched her shaken face. She was so horror-stricken to even look at his face. She gulped as his hand cupped her neck in a gentle grip, guiding her eyes to his. His eyes slipped from the hold of her eyes to her lips in a second. She grew self conscious all over again. His heated gaze on her lips was unwavering. In the moment of bewilderment and growing self awareness her tongue unconsciously wiped her lips wet and it was all it took for him to descent on her lips. Description Had it been upto him he'd have broken her down to pieces and never put her togather, instead, he let her build herself, he watched her collapse and stand, die and live, float and drown all the while playing her body like a putty in his hand. Her husband had never been gentle, his ways was one of his kind. He read her like a book and used her spells against her. She was vividly aware of what she was getting herself into but nothing could prepare her for the don who brought everyone on his feet and she was no exception. How would she survive his ways or even would she?
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