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Temptations and Revelations
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
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What It Means to be His The Start of Regrettable Decisions
I groaned as I stood in line outside a brick building with loud music pouring out of its entrance. I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was so late. Oh, what I would give to be at home with a book right now… “This is so not a good idea,” I said to my friend standing beside me. “What,” she exclaimed. She spun on me, and I jumped out of the way afraid she would hit me for saying something she deemed stupid. “Are you kidding me? I have been trying to get you out of your house for months! You are stuck with me now. You are not getting out of this.” Sighing, I pushed my hands deeper into my pants pockets. This is a nightmare. My friend, Melissa, has been trying to get me to go clubbing with her for a while now. It is not really my scene, but she swears it would be better with me there. I am only here because I worry. It is better that we are in pairs than alone. There has been a streak of kidnappings lately. I agreed because it is less likely they will take two at once.
What It Means to be His The Gentleman in Black
A man dressed in an all-black suit and tie strolled into a dimly lit room. Slowly he removed his suit jacket and eyed the other occupants. He placed his jacket on the back of the chair and sat down. There were three other men. Two were standing on opposing walls to the left and right of the mysterious gentleman. The third sat in a chair before him, bound by every knot that could keep a man incapacitated. Though he was in a less than imaginable position – one most would find extremely uncomfortable – the bound man seemed to be… unfazed by it. “I’m trying to decide,” began the immaculately dressed fellow, “whether I want to slit your throat with a machete and watch you bleed and die a slow and painful death… or shoot you in the head and get it over with.” He tilted his head to the side. “I’m finding myself completely repulsed by the look of your face.” No one spoke. The bound man sat silently, waiting for any idea of what would come next. Surely, this man would not just talk abo
What It Means to be His The Art of Eye Contact
I... am drunk. Mel and I were on the dance floor with drinks in our hands, her chest to my back, grinding forward, coordinated. I was having the time of my life with my best friend. I was so glad I decided to let my hair down. “I’m going to get another drink, do you want one,” she asked. I quickly drank the remainder of my drink, now accustomed to the flares that the alcohol produced. I nodded and handed the empty glass to her. I continued dancing as she walked to the bar. Looking around to take in my surroundings - now that my second was not around - I tried to keep an eye on everything around me. That is something hard to do when your brain is fuzzy from copious amounts of liquor. I threw my head back, sighing. My eyes closed as my hands caressed the sides of my face. I swayed my hips as my fingers trailed down my neck and went behind and pushed up my hair. My eyes opened and met amber ones. From up above on the upper level – for those super important people – leaning aga
What It Means to be His A Drunken Fuss
Dante offered his hand to me, and I looked down at it with new eyes. I took the offered hand and climbed over the rope. He led me to the dance floor and spun me, pulling me to his chest. “Wow,” I said. “I see you have some skill.” He raised his brows and chuckled. “Okay, so maybe you are not as shy as I thought. You speak!” I rolled my eyes and slapped his chest with a smile. He looked down at the assaulting hand and peered over to my breast. His eyes seemed to glaze over, and I frowned. I was beginning to wonder if he was a bit more hammered than I. “Like the view?” He blinked and looked me in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just really like your outfit.” “No,” I gasped out sarcastically. “Really? I never got that.” “Am I that obvious?” “A tad bit,” I said with a smile. “I mean, I could be wrong, but I knew something was up when you stared at my tits like a nursing infant in need of feeding.” He laughed out, head falling back. “I am so sorry. I did not mea
What It Means to be His An Offer He Can't Refuse
Ambers. It was the man from the banister on the top floor! “Are you alright?” “I-I...” I could not speak. From a distance I could not see all his features but up close... the man was devastatingly gorgeous. I spun around to face him fully since I only craned my neck. He was tall with a strong and broad structure. He had long dark hair that passed his shoulders. He had two scars on his face, one on his left brow and the other on the right curve of his chin cutting through his perfectly groomed beard to the bottom of his jaw. He wore a black button down with the top two buttons undone and his sleeves expertly rolled up to his elbows. The skin of his exposed arms and chest were blessed with beautifully intricate tattoos. The way he stared down at me, in all his glory, sent shivers down my spine. It reminded me of the striking gaze of a wild wolf on the prowl. There are only two words I would use to sum up and describe this man. Sexy and dangerous. And the two words I would u
What It Means to be His Getting to Know All About You
“Your hands, what happened to them?” “I busted them while working.” “What were you working on?” A project for a hobby of mine.” “What kind of hobby?” His eyes landed on me, hard and a bit annoyed. Though there were music blaring and people living loudly amongst us, there was silence between us. I could tell that he was not used to the interrogation I was performing on him. He tilted his head to the side and sat back in his seat. “Murder.” My heart skipped a few beats. He said it without any hesitation. His face was as straight as a bee’s line. Gazing into his amber eyes, I narrowed my own. There was no indication that he was lying but I knew the truth. Flirting with a girl, there was no chance a man would admit to murderous hobbies, right? I intwined my fingers together and placed my elbows on the table, resting my chin on the bridge my hands created. I smiled at him, giggling and he smirked at me once more. My fits of giggles turned into full-blown laughter thanks t
What It Means to be His First for Everything: Part 1
Slowly sucking in air, I released a muffled sigh. I was warm but slightly uncomfortable. My eyes groggily opened to reveal the sight of a headboard. It was a cushioned upholstered headboard with a diamond tufting and traditional camelback shape made with a black denim like material. It was a nice headboard, but it was not my headboard. How peculiar... My heavy eyes blinked as I moved my arms from under the pillow that cushioned my head rather gently. Despite me sleeping atop it, the pillow was cool. It must have been one of those expensive cooling pillows. A line of drool had trickled down my jaw line during my slumber, so I slowly wiped it off. Odd. I only drool in my sleep if I have been knocked out cold by those drowsy cold medicines while being sick. I stretched my hands towards the board and released a small whine. Everything hurt. My mouth was dry and tasted horrible. My limbs felt heavy and extremely sluggish. My muscles ached as if I trained for the Olympics without pr
What It Means to be His Walking in Shame
I could only imagine what I looked like. I had no idea how to attempt a walk of shame. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had a few notifications. Some were just random things like social media, emails, and app reminders. I took notice of the texts and calls from Mel as I entered the elevator. She called me twice and texted me a few more times than that. She assured me that she made it to shelter fine. She told me that she and Chris went to his place and drank even more. There were some illegible texts that I could not translate proving just
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What It Means to be His Temptations and Revelations
The night was alive with the electric energy of the city, a backdrop of bustling streets and vibrant lights that set the stage for the unexpected convergence of four intriguing personalities. Jezebel, Melissa, Dexter, and Axel found themselves drawn together, united by the gravitational pull of curiosity and intrigue, their paths converging as they observed the unfolding scene before them. Jezebel leaned against the wall, her eyes veiled in amusement as she watched her brother, Abaddon, whisk Aurelia away in his arms. The playful glint in her eyes revealed a knowing smile—she was well aware of the dynamics at play between the two. Her gaze shifted to Melissa, the newest addition to the group, a woman of mystery whose aura was a blend of enigma and allure. Melissa's expression was a mix of fascination and assessment, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the scene before her. She had been brought into this world unexpectedly, and now, her gaze locked onto Axel—his playful demeanor
What It Means to be His Uncharted Devotion
The night unfolded like a dream, full of laughter and whispers of adventure. With Jezebel, Mel, and me, it was like stepping into a world of secrets and possibilities. Up on that rooftop bar, the music wrapped around us, and I danced like there was no tomorrow. We were a trio of unstoppable energy, united against anything that dared to intrude on our fun. But beneath the laughter and the music, something was different. I felt as if someone was there, lingering like shadows, keeping watch from a distance. It felt like they were guarding us, watching over us in their own mysterious way. The night held a sense of intrigue, like we were characters in a story just waiting to be discovered. As the hours passed, the mix of drinks and excitement blurred my senses. The night had an air of adventure, a whisper that urged me to step out of my comfort zone. And then she appeared. The carefree me, a new friend who felt strangely familiar, like a missing puzzle piece falling into place. And then
What It Means to be His Define the Relationship
“Explain,” he hissed. “Now!” “It’s all their fault,” Axel snitched. “Jez and Dex cornered me after our meeting threatening me if I didn’t tell them about Aurelia. Then they forced me on this goose chase to find and follow to see if she were a threat!” Dexter's frustration grew, his features contorting with a mix of irritation and anger. “Ya have got to be kidding me! Ever heard the saying snitches get stitches? How many do ya want?” “Oh, go back to Britian”, Axel snapped. “Ye lickarse! One little look and you fall over ya self?” “I’ll deal with you both later.” Abaddon then turned and began to walk towards the three women before Dexter grabbed his arm. “You’re really going to confront them?” The trio of women, blissfully unaware of the looming confrontation, continued to enjoy their night out. As the hours passed, Aurelia's intoxication became evident, her laughter ringing through the air. Her new friend, a mysterious addition to the group, seemed equally jovial. Axel's gaze r
What It Means to be His Secrets in the Shadows
Under the veil of night, Axel and Dexter moved with a seamless blend of skill and stealth. Shadows clung to their forms as they trailed behind the trio of women, keeping a watchful eye from a safe distance. Their mission, born from the clandestine plans of intercepting Aurelia in efforts to learn more about her, demanded their utmost attention and precision.Dexter's piercing emerald eyes remained locked on the scene ahead, his sharp senses absorbing every detail. Axel, his usual playful demeanor subdued by the gravity of the situation, navigated the surroundings with a quiet intensity. The loud music and murmurs of the city surrounded them, a backdrop to the unfolding intrigue.The two stood in a dark corner of the rooftop bar, watching the women have their fun. Axel held his phone to his chest, waiting for any further communication from Jezebel. So far, there weren’t any tips along the lines of Aurelia being a danger, but they couldn’t be too sure. She could always just be a great a
What It Means to be His New Connections and Revelations
The night had taken an unexpected turn, one that Aurelia and Melissa could not have foreseen as they embarked on their girls' night out. With Jezebel's presence added to the mix, the evening became an intriguing blend of newfound camaraderie and unspoken secrets. As they left the upscale clothing store, the trio walked side by side, the bustling city around them now carrying an air of mystery and anticipation. Jezebel's aura exuded both power and grace, a combination that was difficult to ignore. Aurelia couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity as she stole glances at the enigmatic woman beside her. "So, Jezebel," Melissa began, her tone casual as she attempted to initiate conversation. "What brings you to our city? Are you here for business?" Jezebel's lips curved into a knowing smile, her gaze flickering between Aurelia and Melissa. "You could say that. I'm here to explore new opportunities and perhaps make some new connections." Aurelia exchanged a glance with M
What It Means to be His A Distinctive Introduction
The bustling streets of the city seemed to come alive as Melissa and I strolled along, our laughter blending with the urban symphony of honking horns and distant chatter. The sun cast a warm, golden glow over the buildings, painting a picturesque scene of life in motion. I felt a sense of exhilaration, a break from my routine that promised a night of fun and camaraderie. "So, what's the plan for tonight, Lia?" Melissa asked, her hazel eyes twinkling with anticipation. I grinned, glancing at my friend. "Well, I thought we'd start with dinner at that new Italian restaurant downtown. Then, if you're up for it, instead of Don’s club, we could hit that new rooftop bar and dance the night away." Melissa's excitement was palpable as she clapped her hands together. "Yes, that sounds perfect! A little wine, good food, and dancing – what more could we ask for?" As we turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a storefront window. My long black hair caught the sunlight in its
What It Means to be His The "Bases"
Under the twilight's golden embrace, the city streets bustled with life, each step bringing Aurelia and Melissa closer to their anticipated night of freedom. With an air of excitement, they embraced the rare opportunity to revel in each other's company, dressed in tasteful yet effortlessly stylish ensembles that radiated their personalities.Unbeknownst to them, Axel stood in the shadows, his usual jester demeanor replaced by a focused intensity. His gaze was fixed on the two women across the road, their laughter and shared moment captivating his attention. He twirled a six-inch silver Teishin needle in his left hand, its glint a reflection of his equally sharp mind.Dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and cargo pants, Axel's usual quirkiness seemed temporarily subdued. A more serious expression graced his features, one that rarely became exposed. He leaned against a building; his body language relaxed yet attentive. In his right hand, he held a cell phone, through which his voice carri
What It Means to be His Unveiling Shadows: Secrets of Desire
In the dimly lit chamber of Abaddon's opulent mansion, a clandestine meeting was underway. The trio had gathered to discuss the enigmatic woman who had captured Abaddon's attention. Jezebel leaned against a polished table, her alluring aura mixing with a hint of danger, while Dexter's imposing presence stood nearby, his emerald eyes gleaming with intrigue. Axel lounged with an air of nonchalance, his cynical grin playing across his lips. "Alright, Axel," Jezebel purred, her voice dripping with mischief. "It's time you spilled the beans. We know you have had a little tête-à-tête with our dear Abaddon. So, tell us, what is the deal with this woman who is captured his interest?" Axel chuckled, raising an eyebrow at their eager expressions. "Well, my dear friends, gather 'round, for I have a story to share." Jezebel's gaze held a challenge as she leaned in closer. "Axel, don't play games with us. We know you have talked to Abaddon about this woman. Now, spill the details." Axel's grin
What It Means to be His Shadows and Secrets: Unveiling Hearts
In a room where shadows danced like ghosts, a table dominated the center, and five chairs surrounded the table, but only three figures gathered around it. At the head, Abaddon exuded an aura of cold authority, his dark gaze locked onto the files spread before him. To his left sat the towering figure of Dexter, a man of imposing strength and silent intensity. To his right lounged Axel, his cynical smirk contrasting the gravity of the situation. But this meeting was about to change. The air shifted with the entrance of a new presence. The door creaked open, and Jezebel Marcus glided in, her entrance commanding the room's attention. Her long black hair cascaded like midnight silk down her back, framing a face that held both beauty and danger. Her brown eyes bore into the room with an unwavering intensity, holding a depth that betrayed the secrets she concealed. Her figure was alluringly curvaceous yet emanated strength, a testament to her lethal grace. "Good of you to join us, Jezebel,
