Burning Low Novels & Stories

I burned with the same desire; my body strained to the breaking point. My lips drifted back up to nip the lobe of her ear before I whispered. softly in her ear, "I want to show you how much I burn for you, leannan. Let me explore every inch of you." My hands began their journey, tracing the contours of her body, up her arms, and down her sides, burning a trail of fire along her skin. I felt her shiver in response, and a low growl rumbled in my throat as my cock hardened even more.

Ready to burn me from tip to toe. **********

“I will never forgive you for this.” But I stood up anyway. Because I’m an idiot. Because it's Kai. And also because he was already turning off the lights, leaving only the warm orange glow of his living room lamps. The karaoke screen lit up the space like a spotlight. He pulled out a candle from the shelf and used his phone flashlight to “ignite” it, holding it up like a true fanboy. “You’re insane,” I said. “You’re the star,” he replied. I scrolled until I found something dumb. Something harmless.

Damien I’m fuming. There’s no other word for it. My hands are clenched so tight, I can feel the pressure behind my knuckles. I storm through the front door, ignoring the gentle sound of Theo humming from the living room floor, where he’s building a lopsided LEGO fortress. He looks up, smiles at me. I try to smile back. I fail. I stride into the hallway mirror like a man possessed. I stare at myself - still in the tshirt I wore to the bakery, jaw tight, eyes too wild. This is what I’ve become. I press my palms against the wall, breathing heavily.

Still burning. But now by choice.

Just a few lines. *I was the flame you all feared. I was the ember no one claimed. But I chose to burn anyway. *And beneath that, scrawled in a child’s messy hand: “We’re still burning. For you.”

The house became its winter self gradually and then completely. The eight-burner range justified itself in ways that could not have been anticipated in October — it was the center of the house in winter, the room that everything else organized itself around, the source of warmth and smell and the specific occupied quality of a kitchen that was doing real work. Dante cooked in the winter with a seriousness he hadn't had in summer, when the warmth made heavy food unnecessary. Winter food was a different system — slower, more committed, things that required hours and rewarded them.

Even though I was standing it was still there. ''What is wrong with me?'', l questioned myself and my reasons for a moment why I was burning badly between my legs. Then it hit me. I have encountered this situation before. The burning ,The need. The craving. The desire to experience the intense pleasure over and over again. The want to release the orgasm until my body became sore and satisfied.

Hell no! My name isn't Blackwood, the doctor must have assumed I took up Damien's name since he's now my stepfather. I was too weak to argue so I let it slide. “Let's check what's going on with you.” He said and moved closer to me. “She clearly has an infection. That is the reason for the fever and why she's burning up so much. Miss, do you have any infected wounds?” The doctor asked me and I nodded in the affirmative. I opened the blanket and showed him the cut I had from the tree at the cemetery yesterday.