Get A Grip Novels & Stories

I fake a struggle to get him off, allowing him to think he has me. When he loosens his grip, I reach up and grab his jaw with my opposite hand and squeeze until his jaw bones groan and creak, his teeth puncturing my fingers as I glare into his wolf’s eyes. He whimpers, releasing my flesh, but I cling to him, jolting forward as he tries to yank free from my grip.

He took hold of my hand as he brought me to face him. "Took you so long to join me," oh so he knew I was going to come. He took my lips in a brutal kiss as we were both fighting for dominance, I took a hold of his crotch again as I used my hand to massage it and rubbed my thumb on the head, I could feel his vein, he was so thick. I jumped and he caught me, as I wrapped my legs around him as he used his member to hit my sweet spot. The feeling was so good, I could die happily.

The words hung in the air, a challenge, a declaration of war. With that, I spun on my heel, turning my back to him. But before I could take a step forward, he was there, his presence like a wall behind me. His hand shot out, grabbing my forearm, stopping me in my tracks. His grip was firm, unyielding. a hand that grips my arm and squeezes too tight. . He caught me and I felt an inmes pressure on my arm and had a vise-like grip on my arm. He could rip my arm out of my torso.My heart was pounding out of my chest. He could hear it.

My steps paused due to his tight grip on my hand and his shouting, "How dare you have to walk away from me without replying anything to me ??." Realizing that prolonging his rage further would lead me to face unwanted problem. Therefore, I told him in low tone, "Sorry sir. Please leave my hand. I have to go urgently." Contrary to my thought that he would leave my hand after my apology, I felt his tight grip on my chin. He made me to look him using his grip on my chin. My chin pained due to his grip. Eventhough I want to remove his grip from my face, I was feared that he would get angry if I touch him. I know that he don't like to be touched by someone like me. Therefore, I stood quietly and

“Keep holding it, baby. Finger on the trigger. Feel how smooth the pull is?” My grip tightens on the Glock, knuckles white. My hips rock shamelessly into his hand. “You’re insane.” “And you love it.” He nips my bottom lip, then sucks it between his teeth. “Pull the trigger slow, Sugar. Just like I’m pulling you apart right now. Come for me while you’re holding cold steel and I’ve got my fingers buried in this greedy pussy.”

Not for five. Not for ten. Her breath hitched. His jaw tightened. The air between them thickened, trembling on the edge of something dangerous. Mark was the first to break the moment. He stepped back quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s try a grab defense.” He reached out faster than she expected, his hand closing around her wrist. Instinctively, she yanked away—but he tightened his grip. “Don’t pull back,” he instructed. “That gives him leverage.”

When I see Reese Chapman again, it is exactly three years after I sever our mate bond. It is also the third year since I completely seal my wolf and hide at the edge of the Shadow pack territory, living as an insignificant healer. Tonight, the air in the clinic feels heavy and icy under his overwhelming aura. He carries a lightly injured female companion in his arms and forcibly takes over the best VIP ward in the clinic. During my shift, he summons me three times through his guards. The first time, he coldly orders, "There are wolfsbane fragments on the bedsheets. Change them." I send an apprentice herbalist to handle it. Two hours later, he has a nurse relay another order. "The smell

The particular kind of grip that was not an accident or a reaction but a decision made in advance of the moment. I scratched at his face with everything I had, nails first, aiming for the eyes the way the trainer had been explicit about, and he pulled back enough that the grip loosened and I got one hand free and screamed. Not for help. Not a frightened sound. The kind of scream that was tactical, that was designed to be heard at distance, that the trainer had told me was a weapon in itself. I kicked him in the knee. He went sideways.

Liam reaches out and grabs my wrist, his grip firm and possessive, his voice low and cutting through the noise. “I got you.”

Things were still tense between us and I haven't gotten over the fact that he called me a slut. “Alright then, I'll teach you.” Came his response as he walked towards me. He stood behind me, taking hold of the club that was previously in my hand. “First, let’s start with the grip, okay?” I nodded my head to his words. The club is the first step in it. You first of all have to hold it as if you are shaking your hand with it. Your left hand should be on top and the right hand should slightly overlap. Is that clear?” He demonstrated and I nodded my head, doing as he had said with his assistance.