Husky Voice Adalah

...." Should I stop?" his deep husky voice asked sending shivers down my spine. His hands , leaving trails if goosebumps all around me. My breath hatching...I couldn't say anything...I couldn't do anything, only to be overwhelmed by this pleasure. He chuckled and whispered," I told you, you're all mine, and mine only..."

"How about meeting again so we can continue from were we left." Raphael asked in his husky voice, his hand still squeezing my breast. He was really good at it. "You were good but not good enough for another night baby boy." I winked, leaving him with a shocked expression on his face.

"Why are you apologizing?" "..." He didn't push me further when I didn't answer him. Instead, he suddenly leaned in closer to my ear and sniffed. I saw his throat swallow a little, and my heart skipped a beat along with him. "You..." His voice was low and husky, like music to my ears. "You smell wonderful," Enzo said.

I had just bought a coin worth 3,000 dollars from a trading website. However, when someone came to deliver it, it was not a courier—it was my stepsister, Eleanor Holt. She dropped to her knees, begging me not to tell her mom about what she was doing. "Shawn, please. If you promise not to say anything, I'll do whatever you want tonight. Anything."

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

Ginny White, tall and curvy, was a graduate from a famous university. She wore a long white dress. I'd fallen for her since I saw her for the first time, but she didn't pay any attention to me. I never expected that just half a day later, Ginny would be on her knees begging me to do such a thing to her, just to get a bite to eat.

On our first wedding anniversary, I took the day off from work and left early, only to find that my wife had probably cheated on me. One day I arrived at home, I found a shocking display where my wife was engaging in some intense activities…

My husband, Colton Skye, is away on a business trip for two months. When he returns, he and his true love appear at the arrival hall together. I notice the slight swell of her stomach and am about to ask about it when Colton scornfully pushes me away. "Don't touch Darlene with your dirty hands—she's pregnant. I'll kill you if she falls sick!" Then, he gently holds Darlene Williams' hand. "You must be tired. Let's head home." He doesn't even spare me a glance as he leaves with Darlene in tow. I silently rub the spot where he shoved me as I watch them leave. Then, I contact a divorce lawyer. It looks like this ten-year marriage has ultimately come to an end.

I receive a mysterious parcel on my fifth wedding anniversary. Inside the box are photos of my husband, Luke Madden, being intimate with his assistant. The photos go back a long time—they seem to start from over five years ago. The latest one was taken half a month ago. He, his assistant, and their daughter are playing by the seaside. They smile brightly in the photo and look like a happy family of three. I suppress my devastation and take medication to terminate my pregnancy. Then, I pull out my phone to text my mother. "I'll do as you say and get a divorce, Mom. I'll be back next month to take over the company."

To save my husband, I drank until my stomach bled. Despite making it to the hospital, no one would treat me—all because he, a prominent surgeon, forbade anyone from attending to his own wife. In a previous life, he had saved me, a deed that fate cruelly repaid: the same day he saved me, his beloved, Lily Evans, tragically died during surgery. Consumed by regret, he lamented, "If I hadn't saved you, she might still be alive." On my birthday, in a twisted celebration, he intoxicated both me and our daughter. In a horrifying turn, he used his surgical skills to ruthlessly stab us both. As I lay bleeding, I begged for our daughter's life, pleading with him to spare her, his biological child. He coldly justified his brutality by claiming that being tied to me caused him to miss his chance with his true love. Fueled by a desperate need to protect my daughter, I fought him ferociously. He inflicted thirty-eight merciless wounds on me before turning his murderous intent towards our child. As I faced death, my last sight was of him, his decision clear as he once again chose his lost love over his living family.