Fingers Twitching Uncontrollably Novels & Stories

Can we coexist, William? Or is one of us eventually going to have to leave for the other to stay?" "I don't plan for anyone leaving. Not unless we're all going.," I said. "You don't plan for anything you can't control," Elias countered. He reached out, his hand hovering near the sleeve of my sweater before he actually touched it. His fingers gripped the wool, his knuckles brushing the skin of my forearm. "What happened in 2018, William?” He asked softly. “A small cottage in upstate New York. Bought and sold in six months. No profit. No record of who stayed there." I felt the blood drain from my face. My hand moved instinctively, catching his wrist, my grip tighter than I intended. "Stop digging," I hissed, my voice a low, lethal vibration. "You’re hurting me," Elias whispered, but he didn't pull away. He leaned in, his eyes wide and dark, searching mine. "Tell me what was there, Will. Tell me who you were before you married my mother." "There was nothing in the cottage." I said, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm. I released his wrist, my hand shaking as I pulled it back. "Tell your friend to stop. Now." Elias looked at his wrist, the red marks of my fingers already beginning to bloom against his pale skin. He didn't look angry. He looked... fascinated. "So you can lose control" he breathed, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face. "You're just a man good at maintaining it." His eyes were wide with interest. ************************** After his father's death and the mother remarried three months later, Elias is furious and out for revenge. As he digs into his stepfather's secrets,he finds some he can use against him and some that makes him confused about his feelings towards him.

"What are you doing Sebestian?" "What does it feels like I am doing" Sebestian whispered back while he let his fingers boldly strike over the quickly bulge in Allen pants. "Please stop, we can't do this here, and and you don't me as your omega so stop touching me" Allen whispered back, trying to sound firm but his hips jerking up to seek friction betrayed him and Sebestian just smiled smugly at him. "Even if I don't want you baby, but it doesn't matter you have right to flirt with anyone. Remember you are mine, only mine". Or the one where Sebestian can't keep his hands off of Allen, even he don't want him or Sebestian still behave like he own Allen, even he don't want him.

In all the eight years after Mamma died, Father hated me. He hated me for causing Mamma’s death, and he hated me even more because I didn’t resemble her at all. So he adopted a girl who looked eighty percent like Mamma and raised her as the principessa of the Vitale family. He brought her to banquets hosted by the five Mafia families of Corholt and seated her beside him at negotiation tables. In front of the entire family, he publicly declared that his adopted daughter, Bianca Vitale, was his only heir. Meanwhile, I wore a servant’s apron and lived in a cellar beneath the estate. He allowed Bianca to break my fingers, slash my face, and lock me inside the morgue freezer. “This is what you deserve.” I believed it, too. Until my sixteenth birthday, when Mamma came back.

She once humiliated herself by falling for him. She was set up which led her to his bed and she ended up in a situation she couldn’t even explain. Now, she was pinned against the wall in his office, her hands held above her head. Her back arched slightly, even her body betrayed her, she could see the city view beside them like nothing unusual was happening. “Sir...” She gasped the moment she felt his hand slide beneath her skirt. She regretted wearing a skirt. It had already been pushed up, revealing far more than she was comfortable with. Even with his one hand holding hers, he still has his fingers teasing her slick entrance through soaked lace. She couldn't describe how embarrassed she felt in that particular moment. He smirked and leaned toward her ear “I should hate you,” he whispered “but ever since I saw you naked, I’ve been so obsessed. I want to screw you so hard you will forget everything in the world, but how deep I can bury myself inside you until you’re screaming for more.” She took a deep breath. “This is wrong, Mr…” She swallowed hard. "Please… I still want to live...ahh… boss…” Her protest broke into a soft moan as his fingers went deeper and slowed like he was enjoying every second of her losing control. “Damn…” she gritted her teeth, trying to keep her voice down, afraid someone might hear them through the door. “You’re still pretending?” he chuckled in amusement, he intentionally kept his movement slowly. “My king… please…” she finally said what he had been wanting to hear. She had always been too proud to accept it. They used to hate each other. But could hate really turn into something this intense… this uncontrollable?

I couldn’t cum ,not once in two years with him nor with someone. Then Sophie,my best friend….slid a card across the table. Dr. Vincent Kane. Specialist in women’s sexual dysfunction. The man who could fix what felt permanently broken. She didn’t mention he was her ex-husband Or that his “program” meant thirty locked days at his private estate. No sterile exam rooms. Just silk-draped suites, candlelit treatment spaces, and a discreet staff who vanished when he entered. In our first session he asked me to undress behind a screen and u did. When I stepped out in the thin robe, his gaze dragged down my body,slow, deliberate,before snapping back to my face. His throat worked. “Lie back,” he said, voice rougher than the day before. His gloved fingers parted with me for the exam. Clinical and professional until they lingered, circling my clit with the lightest pressure, testing responses I didn’t know I had. My hips jerked. A gasp tore from my throat. He froze, knuckles white on the table edge, breathing hard through his nose. He didn’t stop….Night after night the sessions grew bolder. His mouth replaced fingers, tongue stroking in slow, deliberate circles until my thighs shook and my back bowed off the massage table. When I finally shattered, clenching, crying out, soaking his chin, he pulled back, lips glistening, eyes black with something feral. He pinned my wrists above my head one evening, cock hard against my thigh through his trousers. “This is still therapy,” he growled, grinding once, twice. “Tell me to stop.” I arched into him instead, nails digging into his shoulders. My ex is threatening to leak photos, ruin us... Sophie keeps texting: How’s the retreat? He’s helping, right?

I booked a consultation with a renowned traditional medicine practitioner six months in advance to treat my surgeon wife's arousal disorder over the holidays. However, on the appointment date, Wendy did not show up. Just as I was about to call to question her, I noticed a photo her male friend had posted on social media. In the photo, my usually aloof wife was hugging the guy with a radiant smile. The caption read: [Only I can cure your problem.] But what caught my attention was my wife's flushed face in the photo, clearly displaying signs of arousal. With a cold smirk, I immediately liked and commented: [You must have magic fingers that work wonders!] The comment section exploded, with everyone speculating whether I would tear my wife's lover apart. What awaited my wife was our official divorce after the cooling-off period ended.

"You can't just touch me however you please." I spat angrily as he runs his fingers along the curves of my breast. The words leaving my mouth not corresponding with the wetness in my underwear. "Is that so? Do you want to know why I can do whatever I want with you?" He asks but I don't answer. "Because I own you." Aurelia's life revolved around working long hours at multiple jobs to take care of bills but mostly to pay off her father's gambling debt. She comes home to find that she has been sold off to a mob boss by her father to save himself. Read more to find out what happens on Aurelia's journey as the mob boss' possession. Rated 18+ contains: Violence Sexual Content Vulgar Language.

“You wear my mark,” the Alpha King growled, fingers tightening around Nyra’s wrist as the bond flared painfully between them. “But you are not my mate.” Across the hall, the woman beside his throne smiled, her borrowed bite glowing faintly against her skin, while Nyra’s shadow burned beneath her clothes, answering a call no lie could silence. Nyra Vale was cast out as a wolfless omega, betrayed by her lover, erased by her pack, and condemned for a mark she never meant to wear. But the bite on her shoulder belongs to Rhaegon Ashmoor, the Alpha King who claimed her in darkness… and was deceived into crowning another. As a false Luna ascends the throne, the real mate awakens something ancient and forbidden within Nyra, an inheritance powerful enough to shatter kingdoms and drive an Alpha mad with hunger. A stolen mark. A hollow bond. And a mate who refuses to kneel.

As we kissed, it was like a rush of emotions. Relief, joy, and the happiness of being close again filled me up. Every kiss felt like a fresh start, wiping away the silence and bringing us back together. Then I realized that I was truly his desire. The world around us disappeared as if no one mattered. I could feel the heat of his hands through my shirt, his fingers caressing my skin and sending shivers down my spine. His lips moved down to my neck, leaving a trail of kisses. ************************** Harper was rudely bumped into by an arrogant jerk at the gym, not wanting to own up to his fault, he ordered her out of the gym. Imagine her shock when she finds out that he was no other but Joshua Stevenson, her new boss at the office and they had been arranged to marry. Will she bow to pressure or give Josh a run for his money?

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"