Burning Bed Book Novels & Stories

Then the poetry. Handwritten. Sometimes sonnets. Sometimes messy, jagged pieces that felt like they’d been ripped straight from his chest. One read: If I could be the rain that slips down your shoulder, If I could be the sky you look up at in rage I’d let you strike me down, again and again, If only to stay close to your fire. I threw that one in the trash. Three hours later, it was tucked inside the cash register. And then came the books. First editions. Stories I’d loved. Stories I’d once read aloud to Damien in the Blackwood library when we were young and tangled in something that felt like forever.

no, I arranged his bed again that I had scattered, cause no matter how mad I was for burning my project up, I still didn't wanted any fucking trouble when he was back, so that he wouldn't kill me out of anger for messing with his stuff, but as soon as am about to quietly return back to my own lane to wait innocently, and yell at that dickhead when he was back about why on earth he burnt my project up, my curious eyes, yes, the same eyes that would make him kill me, drifted to the side, and I see a black book placed perfectly on the side of his bed "I didn't even know he had something like this, but it must have fell from under his pillow" I told myself as I picked it up to return it back to

Halfway through our reunion with some friends, my fiancée went missing. I was about to look for her when comments started popping right in front of me. "What's the second lead doing, coming to his car? The male and female lead are still going at it!" "I love seeing how his new car has become the stage for the lead characters' first time!" "That's what he gets for taking the male lead's spot for too long!" Our mutuals stopped us. "Helga's gone to get you a present. You should go back and wait." "Friends for life. They're covering up for the male and female leads," read one comment. "The beautiful female lead belongs to no one but the male lead! If I were there, I’d lie to that jerk too!

It was raw, overwhelming, the kind that left his limbs numb and back arched. But as the pleasure crested... The air changed. Electricity hummed at the edges of the room. The low jazz flickered and glitched, then died into static. A faint humming, no, chanting, echoed somewhere under the floorboards. Victor blinked. The walls… were shimmering. And beneath him.. Something burned. A sigil flared to life under the bed, carved in light, spinning in slow, ancient geometry. It pierced through the sheets, glowing like white fire, wrapping itself around Victor’s limbs and hips, then pulsing directly into his spine.

My body went even limper, my bones feeling as though they’d been pulled from my frame as I watched the nightmare resume. Zeena was riding him, her rhythm accelerating. Her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, savoring every touch. While Alex, the man who constantly nagged me to wear "decent" dresses, was busy suckling on my stepsister’s breasts with a ravenous, carnal hunger. In room 404, a phone lying on the nightstand lit up. The act paused for a fleeting second. Alex gripped Zeena’s hips to steady her, and she gasped in frustration before reaching for the device.

They hit the ground with a loud thump. "I think I knocked something over," he said leaning over the edge of the bed. "It's fine." said Elly. Darren got mad at her and tried to throw it in the fire pit one time. she was able to dig it out and there wasn't a single scorch mark on it. If it could survive that it could survive a small fall from the bed. But Darren was already reaching down. He came back up and pulled the book up with him. "I thought you said you weren't a witch."

Bored and restless, I wandered from room to room, searching for something to occupy my mind. In Bella’s room, I spotted a book on her nightstand—Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas. I had heard good things about it, so I decided to give it a shot. I curled up on her bed, diving into the pages. For a while, it worked—I was able to lose myself in the story and momentarily forget the unease tugging at me. But, of course, that didn’t last long.

I huddle over the floor for some time, thinking about our sinful act back in the woods. I saw the strange look on the man’s face. What does that make him? “Ughhh!” I really need a drink of water. My mind is mushed with stupid thoughts. The blowing breeze makes a book I didn’t see before flip pages, catching my attention. The book is resting on the floor, a few distance away from the fireplace. The flaring amber hue of the fire reflects ominously over the book. It pricks my interest and I wonder why I didn’t see it before.

THE END🥳❤️ THE END OF BURNING PASSION 🥳❤️ Thank you for reading and supporting this novel, if you enjoyed this erotic collection then it’s a must to read my second book “SINFUL DESIRES”, it can be found on any book platform and unlike this book, Sinful Desires are short short stories , so just sit back and enjoy a short blissful erotic stories THANK YOU AGAIN❤️!!

I cut her off before she could say a word after she took my words as offense. “Touche,” she replied, her voice steady but laced with a hint of defensiveness. “What kind of help will you offer?” she questioned. “A help that you won’t be able to resist,” I muttered smugly as I brought out an old and worn-out book from my coat pocket and showed it to her. It is the book that I acquired from Beta Alek, the one that he entrusted me to burn. However, after reading its contents, how could I bring myself to burn a valuable book such as this?