Your cold eyes confuse me, and make me shudder with want I do not recognize. The sound of your whispers and your breath when it runs down my neck is enough to make me obsessed with sinful fantasies. I didn't want you, at first, but you became a part of me and your very details grew to become my bliss. I love your cold cruelty and your majesty when you are fighting yourself, when you're hot and cold. I love having your head on my lap, and your charcoal hair strands between my fingers to stroke and play with. I love motherting you, but I love loving you even more. You entered my life like a roaring hell and you forced me into your realm of evil, if only you knew how much I love your confessions that confuse me-- the confessions that you whisper to me when there is only us, when you're all bare to me, body and soul."As the heir to a family dynasty, Joe knows the rumors swirling around him. However, the truth is even darker. Years ago he chose to run away from everything, from the fact th
him come morning.She was crazy in love. Then again, when was love sensible? Love was the most important thing on earth that didn't make any sense.. It burned you, and inflamed you, and then made you whine saying it's cold.Who can escape from the threads of fate? Who can escape from the destruction of blind love?She knew that engaging in one sided relationship was like walking on mined land. Playing with death. But she would walk barefoot on that same mined land to get to him every time, hoping that at the end of the way, she would reach him without being completely destroyed.Therefore, she did not hesitate to tame her traitorous heart and to look at her father in the eyes with a calm look, hiding behind her deep love and a trembling soul, as She said:"But, father, he does not know me.... I live in one half of the world and he lives in the other... How is this marriage going to work out?"Jack understood her question and her doubt about it, so he with the same tone, explaining his
Your innocent face that you represent to John, I'm the one who will expose him so that he can see you for who you really are."Akira kept her cool, replying sarcastically:"I'm everything with Jungkook except innocent."Roselle spread her hands over her chest.And has he ever seen the video?Akira's features froze and her saliva dried up upon hearing her words.Which video are you talking about? Her brain traveled directly to her pornographic position, until she returned her eyes, which drifted away towards Roselle's face, who added:"Seeing you torturing that boy must change his way of looking at you."Akira finally got rid of her freeze and sighed, without Roselle noticing."The video is in my possession, my dear."Roselle furrowed her eyebrows, and Akira added, surprised."Doesn't you feel overly childish? Doesn't that bother you yourself?"Roselle did not answer her, only muttered inaudible words and turned to leave the palace completely, very upset.Akira watched her back leaving,
The distance between their bodies was very close as he held her in his big arms in the small walk-in shoe closet, rocking her back and forth like a mere little child.She could feel the beads of sweat running down her face, smudging the makeup Laura had spent all afternoon perfecting for tonight's Gala. It seemed to her, at that moment, not only her makeup, and the Gala that were ruined tonight, but them, too.She knew he wouldn't like it, but she was scared, very scared.Scared for him. Scared of what would become of him. She could feel his stare on the back of her head, urging her to look around; to meet his gaze.But she couldn't. She couldn't risk looking at him-- into his striking blue eyes-- and not burst into tears.He loved her as strong as a lioness, he'd always said. She couldn't risk showing him her weakness now. Even if it were weakness and fear for his sake. She knew he wouldn't understand.His mint-scented breath was brushing against her nape as the temperature around t
I just love how you love to portray us. I am Algerian, and I find this video, just like Hollywood, rather very biased. Disappointing.I'll speak from the Algerian prospectiveIt all started because of Spain and its brutal expulsion to the myriad Spanish Jews and Muslims, and its ever-growing hunger for invasion. The Algerian Navy has a large and rich maritime history, dating back to 1518, when it began after the increase in the Spanish conquest of the Algerian shores and ports, where it occupied the ports of Marsa El Kebir of Oran, and Bejaia. That's when Algeria seeked out the help of the Ottoman Empire.Unlike what you said at the beginning of your video, the first and most important goal and "objective" of the Algerian Navy was protecting its shores from the Spanish invaders, and saving the million of Spanish people that Spain didn't want anymore because they Either, secretly, remained Muslims, or were Jews. And that's why, unlike the middle east, North Africa had a vast population
In another place, within the walls of the palace, the king was sitting on his huge bed, and around him were many concubines, for his bed was large enough to fit nine people, together. His hand was around a glass of red wine, which he began to mix with honey with his index finger. His long blond hair was gathered in the form of a ponytail at the lower part of his head, and he was trying to look as though he were thinking excessively on what Lord James had just said about his younger brother, PRince Alexander, instead of what he was truly thinking of, which were ladies, of course. He would have been having so much fun, right now, with the those ladies he spent the night with, if it were not for the duke and his friends who chose to cut his fun, earlier this morning than ever before. He was trying not to appear upset, because it was not in his nature to leave girls without fun."King Oliver, Prince Alexander is rather mature now..don't you think his marriage is inevitable?" Asked the duke
Crazed PassionOutline/ Synopsis'"He grabbed a glass of red wine and poured it all over her naked body. She wiped her face and before she regained her vision from the burning liquor, he poured another glass inside her mouth this time, and forced her to swallow it whole and all at once, until she almost choked, and no matter how hard she tried to push his large hands away, he didn't budge an inch.He removed his hand at last, and she began to cough hard. Then she sat on the floor, gasping for air. He kneeled down in front of her on his knees and asked, staring at her coldly: "Do you know the kind of people of whom wine is poured on them?" To his question, she shook her head."They are the same ones I like to sample-- to lick their neck, and whole body with the tip of my tongue, where the smell of wine is strongest, and where it is most red and vibrant.""Damn you, and damn the day I met you," she whispered with malice, as he pushed her silky long black hair away from her face, and cam
PROLOGUEThe distance between their bodies was very close as he held her in his big arms in the small shoe closet, rocking her back and forth like a little child.She could feel the beads of sweat running down her face, smudging the makeup Laura had spent all afternoon perfecting for tonight's Gala. It seemed, at that moment, not only her makeup, and the Gala were ruined, but them, too. Everything was ruined.There was a knot in Amelia's stomach that she couldn't shake loose, and her heart was beating against her rib cage furiously. Something very bad was going to happen and she didn't think she'd be able to stomach, nor bear, the consequences.The time has finally come: they were doomed.She knew he wouldn't like it, but she was scared, very scared.Scared for him. Scared of what would become of him. She could feel his stare on the back of her bead, urging her to look around; to meet his gaze.But she couldn't. She couldn't risk looking at him-- into his striking eyes-- and not bur
CHAPTER NINE“Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.”― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of FireTouching the piece of glass in front of her, Valentina couldn't remember the last time she looked at herself in the mirror. She could not tell if she still recognized the person looking back at her from the looking-glass. After dressing up and applying make up, she tried to look back again in the mirror. However, whenever she tried to smile at her reflection: the smile would not reach her cloudy hazel eyes, for she could not even recognize the woman in front of her. The Semi-naked clothes, which had costed thousand of dollars (because you buy the name of the brand and not the clothes), the heavy makeup that did not accentuate her features but rather gave her a new fake face, and finally the artificial height increase which an expensive heels gave to her and also which made no sense since it would only take two steps before her feet would be lit
Then Jerrie looked upon him as madder than Arthur himself, and talked so rapidly and argued so well that he consented at last to keep his own counsel, for the present at least, unless the shadow still haunted him, in which case he must tell as an act of contrition or penance."He will think the photograph came with the other papers in the bag," Jerrie said, as she again kissed the sweet face, which looked so much like life that it was hard[Pg 399] to think there was not real love and tenderness in the eyes which looked into hers so steadfastly.It was the hardest to forgive the letter hidden so long, and Jerrie did feel a pang of resentment, or something like it, as she took it in her hand and thought of the day when Arthur had confided it to her, saying he could trust her when he could not another. And she had trusted Frank, who had not been true to her trust, and here, after the lapse of years, was the letter, with its singular superscription covering the whole side, and its seal un
"Mr. Moreland bought it. Wasn't he kind?" said Jenny, who all the evening had been trying for a chance to thank George, but now when she attempted to do so he prevented her by saying, "Oh don't—don't—I can imagine all you wish to say, and I hate to be thanked. Rose and I are particular friends, and it afforded me a great deal of pleasure to purchase it for her—but," he added, glancing at his watch, "I must be excused now, as I promised to call upon my ward.""Who's that?" asked Jenny, and George replied that it was a Miss Herndon, who had accompanied him from New Orleans to visit her aunt, Mrs. Russell."He says she's an heiress, and very beautiful," rejoined Ida, seating herself at the piano.Instantly catching at the words "heiress" and "beautiful," Henry started up, asking "if it would be against all the rules of propriety for him to call upon her thus early.""I think it would," was George's brief answer, while Mary's eyes flashed scornfully upon the young man, who, rather crestfa
But alas for the delusion! The morrow brought no improvement, neither the next day, nor the next, and as the world grew dim there crept into her heart a sense of utter desolation which neither the tender love of Maude Glendower nor yet the untiring devotion of Louis could in any degree dispel. All day would she sit opposite the window, her eyes fixed on the light with a longing, eager gaze, as if she feared that the next moment it might leave her forever. Whatever he could do for her Louis did, going to her room each morning and arranging her dress and hair just as he knew she used to wear it. She would not suffer anyone else to do this for her, and in performing these little offices Louis felt that he was only repaying her in part for all she had done for him.Christmas Eve came at last, and if she thought of what was once to have been on the morrow, she gave no outward token, and with her accustomed smile bade the family good-night. The next morning Louis went often to her door, and
The sunlight of a bright Christmas morning had hardly dawned upon the earth, when from many a planter’s home in the sunny south was heard the joyful cry of “Christmas Gift,” “Christmas Gift,” as the negroes ran over and against each other, hiding ofttimes, until some one came within hailing distance, when their loud “Christmas Gift” would make all echo again. On this occasion, every servant at Maple Grove was remembered, for Anna and ’Lena had worked both early and late in preparing some little present, and feeling amply compensated for their trouble, when they saw how much happiness it gave. Mabel, too, while she stayed, had lent a helping hand, and many a blessing was that morning invoked upon her head from the hearts made glad by her generous gifts. Carrie, when asked to join them, had turned scornfully away, saying “she’d plenty to do, without working for niggers; who could not appreciate it.”So all her leisure hours were spent in embroidering a fine cambric handkerchief, intende
Yes, Rice Corner! Do you think it a queer name? Well, Rice Corner was a queer place, and deserved a queer name. Now whether it is celebrated for anything in particular, I really can't at this moment think, unless, indeed, it is famed for having been my birthplace! Whether this of itself is sufficient to immortalize a place future generations may, perhaps, tell, but I have some misgivings whether the present will. This idea may be the result of my having recently received sundry knocks over the knuckles in the shape of criticisms.But I know one thing—on the bark of that old chestnut tree which stands near Rice Corner schoolhouse, my name is cut higher than some of my more bulky contemporary quill—or rather steel—pen-wielders ever dared to climb. To be sure, I tore my dress, scratched my face, and committed numerous other little rompish miss-demeanors, which procured for me a motherly scolding. That, however, was of minor consideration when compared with having my name up—in the chestn
THE cottage in the lane was not very pretentious, and all its rooms were small and low and upon the ground floor, except the one which Jerrie had occupied since she had grown too large for the crib by Mrs. Crawford's bed. In this room, in which there was but one window, Jerrie kept all her possessions—her playthings and her books, and the trunk and carpet-bag which had been found with her. Here she had cut off her hair and slept on the floor, to see how it would seem, and here she had enacted many a play, in which the scenes and characters were all of the past. For the cold in winter she did not care at all, and when in summer the nights were close and hot, she drew her little bed to the open window and fell asleep while thinking how warm she was. That she ought to have a better room never occurred to her, and never had she found a word of fault or repined at her humble surroundings, so different from those of her girl friends. Only, as she grew taller, she had sometimes laughingly sa
Julia's first exclamation, on waking the next morning, was, "I am glad I am not expected to go home with uncle today, and see father make a precious fool of himself, as he surely will.""How can you say so, Julia?" answered Fanny. "I wish I was going, for I think I could smooth father down a little if he got to using too strong language.""Nonsense, Fan," said Julia. "Why don't you confess that you wish to go because that handsome Cameron is going? Didn't I see how much he looked at you, and how you blushed, too? But no matter. I would get him, if I were you!"Julia was getting very generous, now that she thought herself sure of Dr. Lacey. Further remark from her, however, was prevented by the ringing of the breakfast bell."What shall I tell your parents?" said Mr. Middleton to his nieces, as he stood in the hall, waiting for the driver to open the carriage door and let down the steps.Julia made no reply, but Fanny said, "Give them my love, and tell them I am getting better every da
The blacks were outside the house, and the whites inside, when Jake drove his shay to the door, and the Rev. Mr. Mason alighted, wiping the sweat from his face and looking around with a good deal of curiosity. A mulatto boy came forward to take charge of the mule, and Jake ushered the minister into the room where the coffin stood, and where were the four men he had asked to be bearers."I s'pose I'd or'ter of had six," he said in a whisper; "but she's so light, four can tote her easy, an' they's all very 'spectable. No low-downs. I means everything shall be fust-class."Wrapped in shawls, with her head nodding up and down, old Mrs. Harris sat, more deaf and more like a dried mummy than she had been on the occasion of the stranger's visit. Jake had bought her an ear trumpet, but she seldom used it, unless compelled by Mandy Ann, who now sat near her with the little girl who, at sight of Jake, started to meet him. But, Mandy Ann held her back and whispered, "Can't you done 'have yerself