Everytime We Touch Novels & Stories

Rohan quickly assured me. “So scent is how we can find our mate, and when we touch our mate for the first time, the bond starts to trigger. Every touch from a mate is like little jolts of electricity. But like a good kind. You can feel a range of emotions through the touch of a mate.” He elaborated. I frowned and looked back at the hand I had offered him earlier. I could still feel the tingles from when we touched. I’m still not buying it. There was nothing magical about it, just static electricity.

It’s strange how the air between us has changed. Before, every touch was charged with an electric tension that seemed ready to explode at any moment, as if there were only the urgency to touch each other and no room for anything else; now, instead, I feel that same electricity mixing with something softer, warmer, as if our hands weren’t just searching for immediate pleasure, but also for the certainty that we’re here, the three of us, and that nothing outside this space matters.

“Of all of our senses, touch seems the most explicitly linked to sex and sexual activity. That’s the crux. Sex and touch are indelibly linked when we conceive of them being linked by our own physical connection to another person. Lip to ear. Tongue to nipple. Fingers to clit. Penis to vagina and every other combination of body part to body part people find pleasurable. How our skin reacts to each of these parts, as well as the added tangibles of warmth and cold, hard and soft, rough or smooth, strong or gentle creates a unique sensation felt through our nervous system and ultimately recognized as sexy, not sexy or somewhere-in-between.”

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

Her whole body was now shaking from his touch. - Doris, you're so sensitive. Doris did not know how to continue, she just followed her normal physiological response and made strange sounds: - Um, um, a, a. I I, Riffen, Riffen. When Riffen heard that, he knew she was starting to get dragged into the game, so he worked even harder. The last of his underwear was gone, he quickly used his fingers to touch Doris's private place without hesitation, slowly making contact, then the speed got faster and faster.

"I won't touch you, and you won't be allowed to touch yourself for two weeks" 'You've gat to be kidding!'

Her slender fingers brushed against the bare skin of my wrist. The moment her skin touched mine, a violent, blue-hot jolt of static electricity snapped through the air between us. The familiar, intoxicating tingles of the matebond flared to life under my skin, racing up my arm and slamming straight into my heart. I gasped, my chest expanding as the absolute euphoria of her touch flooded my veins after three days of starvation. Betty pulled her hand back an inch, her eyes wide as she stared down at our fingers. "I felt that identical thing yesterday," she whispered, her voice trembling. "When I accidentally touched Mitchell' hand at the table. What does that shock mean?"

Snap out of this bullshit. Kade’s hands flexed on his sides, clenching and unclenching, his fingers stretching. Then slowly—so damn slow—he raised his hands and placed them gently on my back. He was still as stiff as a rock, but that gentle, awkward, touch was grounding enough. We humans were such pathetic, needy creatures. It was pathetic how we needed the touch of others to ground ourselves. Really pathetic how we would take anything to just feel the tiniest spark of comfort.

His touch is large and warm, and where it lands on my skin, it sends a tingling ripple through my body. “Thanks, Briar. I appreciate you trying to make me feel at home,” I murmur. “I haven’t... had one in a long time.” My voice trails off as a vague memory flickers—of a time I was safe, loved, sheltered. Briar leans in, wrapping me in a hug. It’s firm and comforting, a kind of embrace I haven’t felt since I was a small pup. My body instinctively melts into his. For a moment, I let myself believe I belong here.

What would get a guy to stop touching himself? What if...