Burning Love Book Novels & Stories

Cammy frowns slightly,as an unknown feeling starts growing inside her. She wants to keep Alice all to herself and not let any other person have her. It’s selfish but she can’t help but feel like that . She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and continues to focus on Alice. The scores were announced officially and Alice is automatically a part of the team. Quote for this chapter: “Falling in love is like holding a candle. Initially it lightens up the world around you. Then it starts melting and hurts you. Finally it goes off and everything is darker than ever and all you are left with is the…BURN!”_Syed Arshad

VEDA My lips still burned from the ghost contact with Zane’s. Even now, I could still feel the electric zing from his touch. I stood in the living room, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the gray Connecticut sky. For the last three hours, I had tried to push the scent of cedar and expensive tobacco out of my mind. But every time I closed my eyes, I remembered the heavy weight of his body pinning me against the kitchen counter. Get a grip, Veda.

He whispered one word to himself. “Firewall.” Then he walked toward the light. ~~~~~~~~~~ BOOK OF BLOOD — NEW ENTRY “There was never room for love in our world. So we carved it into the spaces between bullets and betrayals.” “We didn’t fall in love. We folded it into the war and dared it to survive.” —Aria

The monster inside him roared, craving more, yet yielding to the unyielding heat of Eli's claim. Every touch, every whispered command, every fiery kiss was a strike of passion, a battle neither wanted to lose, but both needed to win. The air around them crackled, flames licking higher as they dove deeper into each other, a Hellfire set ablaze by desire, raw and untamed. Leo's growl mixed with Eli's breathless moans, a symphony of control and surrender that echoed into the night. No rules. No limits. Just the burning, insatiable hunger between two souls who refused to back down.

It was about whether the love we’d carved in stolen moments could survive the fire we were walking into. And I’d already decided: I would burn for him.

“And you’re my anchor. Without you, I burn myself away.” For a moment, the world shrank to just them—his weight above her, the warmth of his lips pressing softly against hers, the tender way his hand slid over her side, careful of her wounds but still hungry to feel her alive beneath him. Their love burned as fiercely as any battle, and Evelynn gave herself to it, to him, letting the fire in her soften into something sweeter, something that held instead of destroyed. Later, tangled in his arms, the forest still thick with mist, Evelynn whispered, “Was that the only one?”

Those words sank into my heart like a thousand steel needles. I had already spent over four years living as someone dependent, unwanted, trapped. They didn't love me. They tormented me. And yet, they refused to let me go. It was true—I could leave soon. Just not with Jonathan. I would leave on my own. My phone was still at the Sterling house. I would get it back, one way or another. And before I left, I wanted to say goodbye—to him, and to the past we had shared. "I can't walk anymore. Will you carry me?"

His fingers, rough with calluses, traced paths across my skin repeatedly, sending delightful shivers through me. I couldn't help but let out a few soft moans. His heavy breathing intensified, and, appearing emboldened, his hand continued its exploration lower down my body. His low, husky voice resonated in my ear, laden with a seductive quality, as he asked, "Is it alright if I continue, Cynthia?" I lowered my gaze in a flush of shyness, a gesture that served as my implicit consent. William could no longer suppress the overwhelming passion he felt. He immediately pulled me into his embrace.

"It's so greasy. Mom, this isn't healthy. You shouldn't be eating this." I did not look at him. I just served myself and took a bite of the meatloaf. It tasted amazing. "If you don't want to eat, then don't. "There's that nutrition shake Larisse recommended in the fridge. Go drink that." Harry pointed at me, speechless for a long moment. "You, you've got some nerve." He grabbed Adrian and started to leave. "Wait." I set down my fork and stopped him. Then I took out the divorce papers I prepared earlier and slapped them onto the table.

A loneliness so familiar it felt like my own. “I’m back,” he said quietly, as if confessing a sin. And something in me seventeen year old me, twenty six year old me, all the versions in between, ached with the same impossible thought: I’m glad. But I didn’t say it. Not yet. Because slow burn love is not a match struck in daylight. It is a candle protected from wind, lit again and again, until it finally becomes a hearth.