Fate's Hands Free Read Novels & Stories

I could always blame the dizziness later Fyre guessed. Finally, the music lifted, quicker and quicker. Here came my fate, doomed to hormonally lust after a brute, my future life as a Luna and a Fate was barrelling towards me and there was nothing I could do now. I spun almost robotically and held out my hands waiting to be enveloped by raging sparks and desire and when his firm, warm hands clamped down on mine, I let out a gasp. Nothing. No match! No match! Fyre screamed in delight and the relief flooded through me, I looked down at our hands and laughed out loud.

Joseph setting up his files, Freya is stood from the bench to go out then both of them eyes met eachother. He passes smile to her but for the first time she doesn't respond him instead she walks out of the class. "What's wrong with her" he feels weird. __________________________________ Ryan stops hope grabbing her hand, she look at him with mischievous smile. "Don't you want to hold this expensive hands" he taunts. "why wouldn't I?" She interlocks her fingers with him while grabbing his hand. "This expensive hands are only mine. Like you have a right to my beats, I have a right to your expensive hands. I am locking your hands from today you and your each and every thing is belongs to me onl

I walked towards him as he is seated majestically on his golden throne with his wizard Harrod standing next to him. Harrod makes all kinds of medicines and black magic for father. "Father, you sent for me." I say with a small bow. "Yes." He replies. "What is it father?." I asked politely. He faced Harrod and gestures at him to speak up. Harrod turned to me and bowed. " My prince, i'm afraid there's no cure for the king's deformed hand in this kingdom." He says. I glanced at father's left deformed arm and sighed. He always uses a golden glove to hide it.

It seemed promising, but now. Fate was playing games.

Slowly walking he stood behind my chair, his hand trailing slowly up my bare arm sending tingles shooting. His hands rested on my shoulders and slowly rubbed deeply. I let out a little groan of enjoyment and moved my head to the side. He probed a little harder, his hands starting to slide underneath the fabric of my grey dress. This mate of mine could read me like a book, I sometimes wondered if he had Fate abilities when he could guess just what I wanted him to do sometimes.

Everything the fragment named sat in the next room of this building or in the shape of a six-year-old who drew silver wolves and noticed jacket pockets and used a private hand-squeeze as a signal. For several seconds I simply stared at the fragment, then I reached toward it. Tristan’s hand moved over mine. He did not stop me. He did not pull the sleeve away or turn the moment into a command. He simply placed his hand over mine, grounding me against the table as we both looked at the prophecy that had just rewritten the stakes of every threat we had been tracking. I looked down at our hands, neither of us spoke. The word that kept catching in my mind was ‘freely.’

his body warmth, and his cologne and his presence. " missing you " she mumbled under her breath, attaching her phone close to her heart she closed her eyes to get lost in his thoughts. she is happy, why wouldn't she ? After all she succeeded in attaching her fate with him, it took her a lot of effort and self assurance to believe that they were gonna be fine in future. but Anbu's string attached to Rishi is like a castle of glass. which can be broken at any moment. Will she be able to gather her broken pieces ?

It was the only thing he left behind after the chaotic night. Amelia sniffed, it did not take long for her eyes to tear up as the event that night replayed in her memory. She could still feel his hands touching her bare skin and causing sparks, or was it his manhood breaking her walls? She could also remember vividly when she screamed and begged him to stop thrusting hard. “That asshole, I fucking hate you!” Amelia wiped her tears. She grabbed the wrist watch, put on a pair of black jeans and sweatshirt before leaving the house.

Lila's pov Hands. So many hands. They're everywhere, sliding up my thighs, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair. I can't see their faces, but I don't need to. I feel them. Three of them, surrounding me, claiming me. One behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath hot against my neck. Another in front, his mouth trailing fire down my throat. The third watching, waiting, his presence a dark promise. "You're ours," one of them growls, and the sound vibrates through my entire body.

Marcus fate was in my hands and whatever happened next, would change everything ‎ ‎ ‎