Be Gentle Novels & Stories

Baby Robbie walked over and placed a hand over Jenson’s shoulder, saying, “Why are you so mean to them, Jens? Daddy taught us that girls are fragile, so they shouldn’t be hit or scolded or suffer any grievances.” Jenson rolled his eyes at him and said, “You sure are slandering Daddy’s reputation. Don’t you know how hypocritical our father is? His gentleness is only reserved for Mommy, and there’s no limit to his tolerance toward Mommy. Meanwhile, other women aren’t even allowed to get within 100 meters of his proximity…” Baby Robbie said, “At least Daddy can still be very gentle to Mommy. Can you be a little gentler?”

Of course she would, Raphael had known it, but that was one thing he like about her, she always appeared gentle and sweet, yet at times, she could be firm and bold when necessary. "I don't know what you assume, Clara, but I am genuinely trying to help. Your family had shown me great generosity during my short stay in here, and you yourself is a lovely woman, I would not want you to suffer even more than you already do or make any unnecessary mistakes when going on with your new life. I hope you would accept my humble offer."

"His gentleness isn't exclusive to you. He's gentle with other women, too. Such a man, to put it bluntly, is like central air conditioning. He doesn't just warm and soothe you; he warms everyone around him. He can fool naive and sweet girls like you with occasional caring words, making you think he treats you differently." Paige was at a loss for words. It seemed Chris hit the mark. Randall was indeed a gentle man, but he was not exclusively gentle to her. He treated everyone kindly, always wearing a warm smile and speaking with a gentle and slow tone that gave off a refreshing breeze. "What's the matter?” Chris asked. “Cat got your tongue? Did I hit the nail on the head?" Paige glared at hi

“You don’t know how to be gentle.” “We can learn,” Brandon offered, though his fingers were already moving again, exploring. “No, you can’t. And even if you tried, I’m too sore. I need a break.” “Just a little,” Jackson coaxed, his hand sliding up under the shirt to cup my breast. “We’ll be careful.” “You’re not listening to me.” But my body was already responding despite the soreness, my traitorous nipples hardening under his touch. “We’re listening,” Brandon said, fingers still moving in gentle circles that made me squirm. “You’re just too tempting like this.”

“Or letting things slide.” “And now?” he asked. “And now I think gentleness is about precision,” she said. “Knowing exactly where firmness is needed and where it isn’t.” Eli considered that. “That makes sense,” he said. “Gentleness requires awareness. You can’t apply it automatically.” “No,” Lena agreed. “You have to choose it.” They passed a small garden tucked between buildings, its gate open, flowers spilling slightly onto the sidewalk. Without speaking, they stepped inside.

I'm tired of gentle. Tired of is this okay? every thirty seconds. Tired of slow, careful hands that touch me like I'm made of wet paper. Tired of missionary with eye contact and synchronized breathing and orgasms that feel like sighing when I want them to feel like being hit by a truck.

Her eyes closed as she allowed pleasure to take over her body, smiling, I ran my fingers through her hair, gently removing a strand of her hair from her eyes and slowing down to a pace that had her open her eyes. “Someone’s being gentle” “I don’t want to hurt you” I said gently. I knew that the girl and I didn’t even know one another. But hurting a woman wasn’t something that I liked, making sure to keep my eyes on hers as I spoke. The girl’s eyes softened and she pulled me down to kiss her, the kiss gentle, passionate even. Something which I’ve been searching for. The two of us looked one another in the eye and she bucked her hips upwards to meet my thrust making me smirk “eager, are we?”

I respond with a gentle kiss on her neck, letting my lips linger just a second longer, hoping to soften her resistance. “Just let me take care of you,” I murmur against her ear, my voice low and soothing. “Let me show you just how much of a good girl you were.” She hesitates, her body still rigid, but then she gives in, relaxing and taking a small bite. I stroke my fingers along her side, slow and gentle, letting each touch reassure her, holding back anything that might feel too intense or stir up what she’s not ready for.

His gentleness. She hadn't expected that from him, not in a thousand years. From Gerald Stormborn, red-eyed and red-haired and loud as hell, the Alpha who'd laughed at her when she'd first punched Malachai and told her she was easy to track while sitting in a tree above her head like an absolute asshole. She hadn't expected gentleness from someone like that. But he'd given it to her anyway, without her asking for it and without making her feel weak for needing it.