Can I Touch Your Heart Novels & Stories

A sudden rush of heat coursed through me at his touch, igniting an unexpected spark of passion within me. His touch, however clinical in intent, set off a flutter of desire in my core. The week had been a whirlwind of work, leaving us with little time for private, intimate moments. Yet, every accidental brush of our hands, every fleeting touch, had stirred the same potent reaction within me.

My heartbeat increase in shock when I finally get my voice back. " showing you who you belong to" He smirks and barges his lips to mine kissing it vigorously with all energy, I try to push him away, I try my best, his left-hand fumbles my thigh and rubs it slightly taking it upper, I can feel butterflies in my stomach, this guy needs to stop, he needs to stop touching me now, my body was dancing to his tune, it was letting him have his way, I could feel my lips giving him access and my thighs separating themselves for him.

“It felt like a betrayal, even though I knew it wasn’t. A betrayal of everything I felt, everything I hoped for.” I reached for him then, my movements slow and deliberate, giving him every opportunity to pull away, to recoil from my touch. I didn't want to startle him, didn't want to push him further into himself. He didn’t. He stood his ground, a silent statue of vulnerability. I placed my hand against his chest, right over his heart. It thundered beneath my palm, a powerful, erratic beat that vibrated through my fingertips, mirroring the wild rhythm of my own. The warmth of his skin, the tremor beneath my touch, were intoxicating.

He wants me. I can see it in his dark eyes. Fuck fuck fuck! The air between us feels charged, electric. Like I can reach out and touch it, feel a shock for the first time. I don’t know what made me, but I reached out and touched his arm. Shivers coursed through my body. “Warm,” I whispered. The first time I’m feeling someone’s warmth. It’s so nice. I wrapped my hand around his wrist, pressing my fingertips into his pulse point. “You’re so warm,”

My mind screams to just stop, but all my body aches for right now is to be touched, to be fucked so hard that I scream over my voice. But it's Hunter, and our friendship hasn't even gotten to that level. But his grey eyes are on me, fixed like he can see through me, like he can feel this heat with me. He raises his hand and brushes my cheek with a soft touch, and my breath stutters. That simple touch makes my heart skip and tumble. I set the smoothie cup on the dash, my palm still cold from it. Then my legs move before my mind can decide on what's wrong or right.

“I’ll change my question then. Do you wanna go on a date with me?” As he speaks, he gives his hand to me. My heart starts racing like crazy and the rush draws my mind into a blank. But, my body reacts by itself and put my hand on his. He lets out such a charming smile as he slips his fingers through mine. The touch sends a slight jolt to my heart making it beats even faster than before. I feel like my heart is going to burst out in any seconds. He pulls my hand down to his lap.

“I won’t let him touch you.” I inhaled sharply at Tom’s touch. In all the months we’d been together, he hadn’t touched my scars directly since that first time. I didn’t know whether he avoided them out of concern for me, physically or mentally, or his own distaste. But his hands on that lonely patch of skin was electric. “I also need to work on cardio,” I said breathlessly. Tom’s green gaze darkened as he watched my face change. “Is that so? Do you have any ideas about how you might do that? Stairmaster, perhaps?”

The heat of his touch sent shivers through my body. He pulled me in, his chest against mine, and I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, syncing with my own, the rhythm of our hearts matching the soft melody still playing in the background. His breath was hot against my neck, and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment as his hands moved over me, exploring every inch of my body with a kind of reverence.

Tightly. Despite the anger that literally drips from his pores, I lift my hand to his chest and let the tip hover just above his raging heart. “Can I touch you?” I ask softly. Bhyron’s eyes widen slightly with surprise. “What did you say?” He growls. “Can I touch you… please?” He imprisons me with that unnerving stare and I secretly pray he cannot feel my nervousness. What will I do if he says no? I cringe in embarrassment at the thought.

Richard said. I paused for a moment, allowing myself to fully absorb the question. The intensity of his touch has awakened a multitude of emotions within me. I take a deep breath, searching for the right words to convey my feelings. "When you touch me like this," I begin, "I feel an overwhelming sense of comfort and security. It's as if all my worries and fears melt away, leaving only a profound sense of connection and affection."