Everytime We Touch Novels & Stories

It was the careful silence of two people standing too close to a fire. I reached for the sugar bowl, which was on his side of the table. As I stretched my arm out, he moved his hand at the exact same moment to reach for the newspaper. Our fingers brushed. It was just a split second, a warm, soft contact between the pads of our fingers. But the simple touch was electric. It was a complete shock that reminded me of the taste of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the terror in his eyes when he pulled away.

I said, taking the croissant from his hand. There was a spark between us, and we stared at each other momentarily. This wasn’t the first time there were sparks between us. Every now and then, when we touch, whether it’s a hug or an accidental tap, I would feel little sparks through my body. I could never tell if he felt the same thing. Though as soon as they arrived, they went away. It was as if it was a mistake.

His other hand reaches my throat and just the way he used to, he strokes the length of my neck with his thumb and my entire body becomes electrified because of his touch. Fuck... Why does it always feel so good being touched by him?

I expected the same electricity that ran through us when we shook hands to come back, but it didn’t. To be honest, I missed it. It was soothing yet intense. I was disappointed, but it also made me curious. Why did we react that way? It wasn’t the first time I touched her—I did when I saved her from Jake—so why wasn’t the spark there? Was it because that was the first time we touched her when she was conscious? That was the only probable reason.

I have never been attracted to guys with big muscles. Now, I’m reminded of the static shock I felt when we shook hands at the meeting. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a sensation quite like it. Is it strange that I want to touch him again to test a theory? I really shouldn’t call it static, because statis hurts, but this definitely didn’t hurt.

Ace seems to enjoy the sparks erupting at our touch as much as his wolf and I wait just until the sparks start stinging to move my hand back away. “Maybe we can try to breed the first offspring without you touching me. I seem to be able to touch you,” I offer, getting him to crack up. “You are insane. Do you want to torture me? How do you expect me to fuck you without touching you? I wouldn’t stand the chance as my fingers are itching to touch you now, imagine if I am inside you.” He leans closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It’s unbearable if I can’t grab you to hold you firmly to be connected with you as much as possible. I want you all over me, every inch of our skins should be touc

But before her hand had barely even touched him, he had warned her in a cold voice, "I don't like anyone touching me. If you have the gall to do it, you'll find that you won't be able to use the hand that you touched me with anymore the next day."

she repeated. When he released his grip, she staggered several steps in her heels, not because he’d pushed her, by any means—he’d actually been quite gentle—but because her mind was reeling. Something had happened to her at Lucien’s touch. His words. It was like a sealed door inside her had been thrown wide open, and what she saw in the depths of her being had excited and bewildered her in equal measures. Discipline. Need. Her heart raced faster yet as she recalled the words uttered in Lucien’s low, silky tones. She headed toward the doors. Out of pure habit, she threw a rebellious glance over her shoulder.