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Ghosts are supposed to stay where they belong. Dead. So why the fuck is that ghost looking at me as if she’s ready to drag me with her to the grave? In my world, it’s the other way around. I’m the one who drags things — and people — to wherever I please.
Because he was a god, and gods have wrath so brutal, it eradicates everyone in their path.
Black or white. There’s no grey in his dictionary.
The rivalry between Jonathan and Ethan must run deep if they keep getting at each other’s throats. No idea how they allowed their children, who are their only heirs, to get married. Surely they know they’ll inherit their dads’ companies someday and both will probably have a full merger.
“It’s as simple as it sounds. In exchange for transferring full ownership of the stocks, I want you to pay for them by becoming mine.”
“I know, but this is Jonathan. He’s kind of sick. You can tell that underneath all the silver fox appearance, there’s a Satan’s spawn. You can’t eliminate any possibility.”
Since I was a kid, I’ve learnt to build stone around my heart because that thing will only lead me to doom. It will only push me into a path filled with wires and vacant eyes and…duct tape. So much fucking duct tape.
My cock twitches and it’s not just because of her half-naked state. It’s that look in her eyes. The spirit, the fight. The damn stubbornness.
“Pain.” His strong voice echoes around my dizzy head like a sinister, dark promise. “That’s what you need, Aurora. Lucky for you, I have plenty to give.”
People’s misconceptions about themselves or the world surrounding them is a form of weakness I latch onto without mercy. But this one? This one will be more interesting to explore. I’m going to dig my fingers into Aurora and unravel her thread by each tangled thread.
“As much as you say you hate me, your body unravels around me, Aurora. This body is my fucking property.”
I probably need to call in sick or something. Jonathan broke me with his cock. I knew that thing wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near me.
It’s the first time in my life that I want to keep something instead of destroying it to pieces.
Aurora or Clarissa or whatever name she goes with is now fucking mine. Literally. Figuratively. In every sense of the word.
“Fuck. Your mouth was made for me, wild one. Only me. You’re not allowed to open these lips for anyone else, is that understood?”
Truth is, I love kissing Aurora. She comes undone when my lips ravage hers. She melts against me and lets me do whatever I please.
