Fire In His Fingertips Books Novels & Stories

Another high pitch tone escaped from my lips as I felt him dripped his middle finger inside of me, swirling it in circles and attracting the gushes of wetness to succumb to the flames that he successfully laid for my body. “ Fuck, Amara. I cannot take it slow, baby,” he said in a low growl earning just muffle cries from me because me too, can’t take the burning that is slowly turning me into nothing but ashes. Suddenly, three fingers are plunging inside of me, curled into a position where it hits the right spot to make me squirm from his touch. For I decided to be burned to ashes with him, I found myself grinding my hips and encouraging his fingers to go harder and faster whilst I watch him

“That’s wonderful, how do you keep it still?” “Concentration.” She relaxes her control a little and the flames starts moving slowly. He reaches towards it and she grips his wrist, “This is Phoenix fire, water won’t put it out.” He nods, and pulls his hand back and grabs his notebook and pencil to start sketching while she thinks. It takes her a few minutes to find a design she likes. She freezes that flame and starts on the next, the rook this time. This continues for a few minutes and then she has one half of a full set, and Merlin comes over and studies them.

HIS TOUCH, HER FIRE🔥 --- Chapter Six — “What the Fire Left Behind” The door clicked shut, and Evelyn stood frozen on the other side, her hand still gripping the handle like it might turn back time. Her breath left in shallow bursts, eyes stinging as the weight of what she'd just done pressed down on her chest. She hadn’t just shut him out. She had carved a line in fire between them—and for once, it didn’t make her feel powerful.

Then, he stretched out his hand into the void and called forth the first fire of humanity. Oliver grit his teeth together, grunting with exertion, as the primeval fire was slow to bend to his will. He gathered up his reserves and focused all of his strength on the energy dancing in front of him. You will obey me! He shouted from within. Agonizingly slow, the fire began to tilt towards his hand. The moment the first flames reached across the darkness and touched his fingertips, an overwhelming surge of energy raced through his body like a shot of adrenaline straight to his heart.

He whispered against my lips, while rubbing his nose against mine. I felt his fingertips trail down my spine, igniting a trail of fire along my skin. My body responded to his touch, arching against him as his hands explored every curve and dip of my body. The heat between us was palpable, a fiery inferno that threatened to consume us both.

But I know it won’t be that easy for Killian and I’ve been going through ideas in my head of how to help him find his fire. “First, let’s start with you feeling my fire,” I say, holding my hands out, palm up. “Put your hands palm up in mine.” He steps up to me. “I get to touch you? This day just got better,” he says, smiling at me as I light my fire and let it cover his hands. He touches me, as often as I’ll let him, but he’s always very careful to let me go the moment he feels me become uncomfortable. I also know that if I was comfortable with it, he’d probably be touching me every minute of every day.

He set the untouched drink aside and reached for his coat. Fire had rules. Fire did not look back. Fire did not involve itself in accidents or strangers. But tonight, Fire had collided with something cold. And for reasons he couldn’t yet explain, Alexander Steele knew this was not just an incident. It was the beginning of something dangerous.

The marsh beyond the hollow walls stirred as if holding its breath. She felt everything. Rowan’s fury. Lucien’s hunger. Her own rising storm. She lifted her hands—fire and frost blazing in perfect symmetry. The marsh answered. Roots erupted through the floor in long, twisting spears. Fire burst from her palms in a column of gold, but frost intertwined with it—blue-white veins snapping through the flames like ice lightning. Wolves howled as frost sealed their paws to the stone, while the fire seared the air around them.

A pull that makes it hard to fucking breathe sometimes. Every second I picture how she will feel under me. How her breath will sound when my lips touch her neck. How her fingers will claw my back when she cannot take more. How she will scream my name when I finally break whatever walls she hides behind. The thought alone makes my pulse heavier, slower, darker. I have never felt this with any woman. Not even close. Lisa walked into my life carrying chaos dressed as calm. Fire disguised as innocence. She makes me lose control in a way nothing else ever has.

Fear pressed close, real and tangible, but he didn’t flinch. “Stay behind me,” he commanded, body protective, predatory. “Trust me. Trust the fire. Trust me fully.” I obeyed, pulse wild, breath shallow. Desire, obsession, fear—they tangled inside me, consuming me as completely as he already had. The figures hesitated, then retreated into the fog, leaving only us. Danger was still present, but we were unbroken. His hands found mine, fingers tangling, grip fierce, claiming. “See?” he whispered. “The fire… it protects us as much as it consumes.”