"Do you like it?”
The man asked-now with such a flat face. Moreau nodded vaguely. She still wanted to look at the artwork of Abihirt's sleight of hand. However, the fact she was still holding something in common at the beginning. "You haven't answered me yet. Why do you rarely smile?" She looked up. Moreau had to wait a while for Abihirt to show a demeanor full of boundaries. "Is your smile too expensive? How much is it worth?" She didn't care. She continued, even though it might be the worst prospect when suddenly Abihirt's body bent down and their lips were so close. "You keep asking. Want me to tattoo your mouth too?" Was that a warning? Moreau didn't fucking know. She was not trying to be influenced. Just wanted to find an answer as long as the silence rumbled around. Perhaps it was because she started too late. There was no preparation to welcome the lips that seemed to want to snatch. Wild. Completely free. In fact, her body wAbihirt's cock felt solid and hard. The man was still moving. Giving such a powerful impact. Moreau bit her lower lip in the face of such full force. She could also feel her breasts being thrown in various directions following the movement of their bodies. Abihirt's palm suddenly squeezed them. Adjusting their bodies to slightly touch Moreau's shoulders were resting directly on the man's firm chest. She let out a stifled moan. Abihirt's mouth immediately fell on her shoulder. Giving a bite that felt searing. Moreau could not help herself. She moaned for a moment. Writhing with various delicious sensations. Against common sense, she would completely lose. As if burned out by burning desire and feeling her body about to tremble when one of Abihirt's arms slid down, then the man's fingertips began to play with the line of moist flesh—constantly rubbing against the massive dick. "Abi." Moreau wanted to hiss. Wanted to explode all over. A crazy love-making sensat
"Why do you have to think about your mother?" The deep, hoarse voice asked. Moreau did not understand why she had to be trapped in such an undesirable situation. It was really painful trying to take back something—it had already been said, and she was helpless to simply end the situation between them. "Because she's my mother." That was it. Hoping there was a prospect of avoiding everything that happened, then ending well. Instead, Abihirt's hand suddenly moved. Deliberately brushing the tip of his forefinger across Moreau's cheekbone-slowly brushing away the scattered hairs. "She went to see Sam. Are you happy to hear that?" Again. Abihirt asked for confirmation. To let her know that Barbara was committing the same dirty betrayal. All of them realized it immediately. "Does this mean you're venting your jealousy on me?" Moreau asked almost wistfully. She stared wide-eyed, but it took a while for Abihirt to say anything. "Not really." In
"One more shot." Moreau had been dealing with bad press all day. Her ex-boyfriend had unilaterally made the choice to end their relationship. She had been asking for a definitive reason since that sad moment, but Froy and the man's angry gaze were clearly refusing to talk. What an irony. Tomorrow was her mother's wedding day, and Moreau had no idea what the groom looked like. They were not introduced. Her mother was planning a silent necessity. There was even so much other pressure to leave serious blotches that it felt like they were punching holes in Moreau's heart. She was almost desperate to figure things out. Moments ago, she decided to go to a bar with the intention of calming down. The striking red dress was perfect on Moreau's slim body. Apparently, in front of the bar counter, Moreau was sitting alone. Staring at a few empty glasses—the wine was gone. Thus, her throat was like ashes with the remains of a fire. It was completely barren. Moreau never thought that she would ge
Abihirt Lincoln woke up to find a young girl wrapped in thick blankets in his bed. He blinked a few times, trying hard to remember the remnants of last night's bet. The bastard Roki had brazenly added stimulant powder to the last cocktail glass—which had to be gulped down—to celebrate the upcoming wedding day. "Asshole!" Abihirt cursed while rubbing his rough face. This morning was the blessing. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 30 minutes to go, but as the groom-Abihirt had yet to make any preparations. For a moment, the gray eyes scanned the innocent face, which slowly began to frown to avoid the light streaming through the white curtains. Abihirt picked up the cloth scattered around the edge of the bed. Putting his white shirt back on, he raised one eyebrow high when he noticed that the bright blue iris had completely opened and were staring in complete surprise. "Who are you?" Moreau's breath caught. No one would have expected that in front of her a full-grow
A futile attempt at escape. Moreau's breath caught at the reflection in the mirror. A person with a pale-even completely disheveled-face was trying to compose herself. Moreau didn't know what else she could do after this. When Barbara noticed such a slow arrival at the wedding, her steps immediately left the people around. There was no better place to hide than the hotel bathroom. Moreau was still at a loss as to what to do after accepting the fact that last night's forbidden act had crossed the line. Literally-the incident with the strange man would not have fallen into the most complicated rut. They were not related by blood. He would just be Moreau's stepfather, though there was one important thing... she would feel awkward when they were under the same roof. Moreau was sure she could have become independent, had Barbara given her permission. It was just that she considered Moreau an asset and would not allow her to take one step out of the building left behind by her biolog
"You should get along better with my new husband, Moreau. But you must remember to behave yourself. Don't wear sexy clothes while Abi is home." So early in the morning Barbara had said a series of words, which had not even crossed Moreau's mind. She found it odd to think that since when would Barbara care about how she dressed? Never. Only after she had remarried. All the anticipation was there and the slightest hint of a cornered tone as if Moreau had been prepared, or perhaps Barbara had a hunch? Moreau would make sure that what happened that night. Would never happen again. "Did you hear me, Moreau?" Barbara's question again - the song filled the room, pushing Moreau back to the surface. She blinked, then glanced at her mother's stern face. "I dress openly only when performing on stage or at important tournaments. Even then, it's still within polite and normal levels. The rest of the time, as you've always seen, my clothes are ordinary," Moreau snarled as she pulled the
"I've warned you many times, Abi. Stop consuming alcohol. You know it has unpredictable interactions with medications. Your vitamins will be waiting if you don't show up on time." Roger always had a reason to lecture him with all kinds of sentences that unfolded at times like this. The special check-up schedule, which unfortunately could not be rearranged, despite Abihirt's serious attempts to avoid the doctor and most intimate cousin. He gave Roger a half squint after the man slid a bottle of vitamin capsules and circled the schedule for a blood transfusion. "Come back here next week. Got it, Abi-oh stop playing with my expensive collection!" Roger immediately got up-not that he was going to let Abihirt run his fingertips over his expensive robot series. He quickly slid the glass cabinet shut-carefully-then pocketed the key into his coat pocket. There were various kinds of patients, and they did not dare to just glance, but this one was an exception. "Let me remind you again,
"So, can you explain to me why your family wasn't at the wedding yesterday?" Moreau would not be put off any longer by her curiosity after her accidental encounter with Froy. It was strange to know Abihirt was related by blood to her former lover, but Froy was nowhere to be seen on the wedding day. Now she was beginning to doubt what Abihirt's unrevealed thoughts were. Moreau feared that Abihirt was ultimately a dangerous man, while she and her mother had become involved in a committed relationship with him. Moreau's fingers unconsciously tightened waiting for Abihirt to say something, at least a little, even though the man seemed to be so preoccupied with reading the file she had brought at Barbara's request. How serious... Abihirt's cold face was unbelievably handsome. Moreau swallowed roughly. Trying not to be mesmerized - unwilling to stare at the man's face any longer. She preferred to move her attention around the office. It was a beautiful place. Almost every corner of th