He Can Only Hold Her Novels & Stories

“I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you I promise. Let go.” He held her gaze as he urged her. Her grip was straining with the effort of holding herself human and she cried out as her second shoulder also pushed out of place. “I‘m here baby.” He urged. “Let go of the struggle.” She couldn’t hold it back anymore and she shifted.

“But I’m still here.” She stared at him like she didn’t know what to do with that. So he stepped forward again. “Eden, you don’t ever have to deal with him again. Not alone. Not ever.” She nodded, but didn’t speak. Instead, she leaned into him. Her head against his chest. His arms around her. He held her like she wasn’t breakable—but sacred. He didn’t press. Didn’t push. Just held. And in that moment, Eden realized something terrifying.

She could not believe her luck; a man like him was her mate and he was interested in her too! He was holding her to him and had fallen fast asleep. She liked the feel of his firm, toned body against her soft one, and if it was possible, she would stay there forever. Thirty minutes had passed in his death grip and somehow she still was not out of it. Every time she tried to escape it, he simply held her tighter, and even as he was dreaming of other things, when she had managed to leave, he had held his hand out to her and said, “please stay” so softly that she couldn't help but stay.

When she saw what was between his fingers, she stared in disbelief. “A fucking chess piece?” He cocked his head to the side. “What? Cold feet so suddenly?” “It’s just…unbelievable.” She tried to sit up, but he forced her arms down instantly. Her eyes widened when he held it down with his own arm, caging both above her head. To think he’d been this strong all this time. “We do things my way.” Slowly he ran his tongue from her breasts down to her pussy. A small shiver ran down her spine.

is keep holding his hand. Just a little longer.

She was unraveling, piece by piece, in front of the one man she desperately wanted to see her as strong. In an instant, he was on the floor with her. His arms were around her with a fierce, protective strength that she hadn't felt in years. He pulled her against his chest, holding her together as she flew apart. He didn't speak. He just held her, his body a solid, warm anchor in the storm of her breakdown. He buried his face in her hair, and she could feel the tremor running through him, the sheer force of his own restrained emotion.

Like he was studying for an exam. “She’s—” He stopped. “Seven months,” I said. “Everything goes in the mouth.” He nodded slowly still watching her. I watched him watch her and felt something happen in my chest that I didn’t have a word for yet. “Do you want to hold her?” He looked at me, then at Ciara, then back at me. “Yes.” No hesitation. Just, yes. Like it was the easiest answer he’d ever given. I shifted her toward him and he took her and immediately held her like she was a document he was reviewing, both hands, completely upright, slightly away from his body, expression one of absolute concentration.

her voice shakes, "can you come back here, please, I need your help with something." "Of course," I turn towards her, but the gentleman holding my hand grips tighter.

And he didn’t like that. Not one bit. So he stayed. Right there. Holding her. Waiting for her to wake up. Because this time— He wasn’t going anywhere.

Even now, when he was holding her like this, he felt like he could not completely hold her. "Jack... N-Not so tight. I need to breathe..." Serenity had to remind him.