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Chelsea

  • Unlocked Chapters: 859
  • Novel Reviews: 1

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  • Author: Lavline
  • Status: Completed
  • Age Rating: 18+
  • 👁 21.4K
  • 7.9

"I asked you, Not to wear Red. I can't control it Now! Can I take You now?, Abhi" I asked looking at her. Yes, red was something I found s*xy and attractive. It ignites my sexual desires, especially for her. Whenever I see her wearing red It brings sensual thoughts to my mind. Her small waist, chiseled shoulders, slim arms, Long legs, and perfect breasts attract me to touch and kiss all of them. But all my fire, desire and wants, vanished in a moment when she asked. "Where?" I looked at her with a strange face and she had a questioning face too. Her eyes were intense and her breathing was still high along with racing heartbeats. "What?" I asked raising my eyebrows and she looked at me with the same look. "You want me to take you somewhere now, Where?" She said and My mouth fell open. I sat beside her looking at her face. "What?" I asked again not digesting her words. She managed to bring my animal down within a few moments. I couldn't understand her words. She must be joking. I couldn't believe she doesn't understand my words. How could it be possible? "Huh?" She said raising her eyebrows and sitting on the bed. "I want to take you means, I want to complete our Marriage," I said looking at her innocent face. I couldn't believe it was real or just her perfect acting skills. How could she be so naive? "You want to retake our marriage vows? ," She said with a little smile on her face. And I almost died in shock. *** One tragedy brought a dominating King and naive princess into ties of marriage. What happens when he gets to know that the girl he started loving and dreaming of making out of knows nothing about marriage and s*x.

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  • 👁 39.9K
  • 9.0

When I was a child, my grandma used to tell me stories. At the time, I never gave them much thought. Thinking they were just that… stories. Growing up, I soon realized that they weren’t lofty fantasies and fairy tales but memories of her past, memories of our ancestors before our world turned to sh*t. You see, what comes from legend, no matter how exaggerated the story becomes, there is always a sliver of truth. You just need to weed out the fiction from fact. My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Chosen One—the one who would save us all. When I was younger, I used to believe that what she said was true. Eventually, someone would be born, just as the Oracle predicted—someone who could save our souls and bind us back to our magic. Once I grew up and saw the world unfolding around me, I no longer believed in salvation. The chosen one seemed to be more of a prayer than reality. Some dream we wanted desperately to come true. Something in which we needed to find hope when there wasn’t any left. When our ancestors turned their backs on us, how were we expected to believe in this so-called salvation? Especially when all we witnessed was death and carnage ever since the great war. Nothing except pain and poverty. I used to believe the stories and used to pray for the mysterious chosen one that would rid our world of its evil. Now, though, I see it for what it really is, just a dream of hope. Some out of reach fairy-tale. A story to create hope. Hope is dangerous; it makes you believe things will get better. I stopped hanging on to hope when I witnessed firsthand that it caused nothing but heartache.

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Heroes

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