Forbidden Touch Novels & Stories

He groaned low in his throat, his hand shifting on his thigh like he was fighting restraint. “That’s it,” he whispered, eyes locked on my wetness. “You’re already dripping, aren’t you? And you haven’t even been touched yet.” Shame burned, but so did the pulse between my legs. And then his next words came, darker than the steam itself. “Rule three,” he said, leaning closer, his hand finally moving toward me. “When I touch you, you don’t come until I say.” The First Touch His hand hovered, the heat of it almost worse than the steam. My thighs quivered, spread open like an offering, shame dripping down with my sweat.

My knees buckled as I steadied myself on the pillar. I dragged my habit down, smothering the creases and pushing my glasses up my nose. This was a sin. I knew that but my body was telling another story. I forced myself to walk to the chapel, putting it at the back of my mind to pray for forgiveness. But what if Mr Vito touched me there? Was that a sin? His hugs felt so good. Would his hands on my “pussy” feel good too?

“More—match the motion—” Silas drove deeper. Every stroke dragged over the front wall as the tower leaned and returned. Wren’s free hand slid down and rubbed Corinne’s clit in tight, exact circles. Corinne’s second climax hit with sudden force—body locking against the instruments, a raw cry rising into the green and amber light. Silas held still through it, buried deep, then began moving again while Wren’s mouth and fingers stayed relentless. A third orgasm tore through Corinne so hard her hands slipped on the metal.

I move to drop the tray on the mini table when his hands close around my wrist, sending mini sparks flying across my body in response to the mate bond. "Wait," he says. "Actually — wait." The whole rooftop seems to lean in a fraction, the way crowds do when they smell a scene about to happen. "Elias—" "You know what," his voice climbs, eyes glinting with the particular cruelty that alcohol always dragged out of him, "I don't actually want that." He knocks the bowl clean out of my hands. It hit the floor with a crack loud enough to cut through the music — broth splashing across the marble, across my shoes, up the hem of the gray dress his mother had approved that very afternoon. A few people

I should run back into the bedroom, lock the door, and pretend none of this happened. I should pretend like it was a mistake that I don’t want him to do all that to me. But if I perish, I perish, I don't care now. So my fingers curl into the waistband of his pants again, almost without permission. He watches me do it. A low, approving sound rumbles in his chest. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Don’t stop this time.” I swallow hard. “This is wrong,” I whisper, even as my hand keeps moving. “You’re my husband’s father. I… I shouldn’t be touching you like this.”

“Do you want to test it? Honestly, we never shook hands after our first meeting last week and I was wondering what is your tolerance.” I looked at her hand for a long minute before reaching my hand to hold it, but I let go right away and I feel my heart beating a little fast. “I guess it’s still not that easy.” “What made you afraid to touch my hand?” She asked me. “I wasn’t afraid of you or your hands,” I said as I couldn't help brushing my hands over my jeans feeling a little shy. “I was diagnosed after my suicide because I didn’t want people to touch me... In my mind, I was scared of what people could do to me every time I saw their hands reaching out to me. It didn’t matter if they had t

Jane gasped. "It's Lucifer, your worst nightmare. It's coming for you. Why did you go into the sacred room when I told you not to go? Why did you even touch the stone? You took it and wanted to take it back to Texas, why? Now look at what you caused for yourself, The sacred stone is only touched by members of the Wellspring family, how dare you touch it when you are not from the Wellspring family? Why don't you ever listen when I warn you?" "Baby am sorry. Please forgive me. I don't want to die, please get me out of here."

He was big and it made her afraid. " Touch it " Grayson commanded, his dark eyes pinned on her. Anya gulped hard and without taking her eyes off his, she leaned closer and touched it. She loved how hard and erect it felt on her hand and slowly, she began stroking it, still looking into his face. It kicked at her and she noticed how Grayson weakened by her touch. She kept stroking him, not knowing what she was doing.here she. Was submitting her self freely , she wonder if this was actually a rape with so much pleasure she was never ready to let go of this moment, she wanted this moment to last for ever.

"Those were the rules, right?" I sat up. "Correct. No touching themselves sexually." Turo snarled. "Are they allowed to touch each other?" The snarl rose through my throat before I could stop it. "I swear to her goddess, if she's let any of them touch her, I'll strap her to my cross for a week." I shot from my chair. Stopped when I felt my phone buzz in my hand. Oopsie! –Willow The short video showed her rubbing her fingertips together. They were coated in a clear, almost tacky substance.

For a few precious moments, they forgot about the world outside, and they were lost in their own world of love and passion. He pressed his hardening erection against her and began grinding on her, making sure his bulge rubbed against her clit. Penelope gasped at the sudden contact, feeling her body start to respond to Liam's touch. Liam took hold of her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand while his other hand trailed down her body.