How Does It Feel Book Review Novels & Stories

He shoved my shorts and panties down in one rough motion, then thrust into me without any warning, filling me completely in one deep stroke. "Fuck," I moaned, gripping the couch cushions tightly. "You’re so deep already." "Missed this tight pussy," he groaned, starting to move, his hips snapping forward in a steady, powerful rhythm. "Tell me how it feels getting fucked by your landlord again so soon after last night." "So good," I panted, pushing back to meet every thrust. "I’ve been sore all day thinking about you. I couldn’t stop remembering how you felt inside me."

We're going to spend the rest of our lives together and I can't fucking wait. That's the end 😭 It's been one hell of a ride and I can't thank you all enough for reading to the end and voting and commenting. Thank you to my early gang badbunnyrabit RoyaleGates hellomy20 who make me so excited to wait for their comments on an chapter! I can't tag everyone again but if you've commented you've made my day 😌. Next up is Damian's book, The Mafia Have Feelings Too. I'll post the character chapter so you can add it to you library if you're interested in reading it. You'll see Marcus, Nathan and Cole there too 😉

I felt the sensation of Nathan’s fingers stretching me, and the ghost of Rowan’s weight on top of me. A wave of heat rolled through my body, making my pussy throb and my nipples harden painfully against the lace of my bra. I felt slick, my body betraying me and acting on its own, remembering the way they had filled every one of my holes until I couldn't scream anymore. It felt like they were right there, their shadows looming over the bookshelves. Realizing I was now sweating from so much tension between my legs, I gathered my things. I had to be crazy to be like this and it was a problem.

Then it suddenly stopped. My breathing was heavy and the pain had fled away. I was on the dirty floor and the book lay a small distance away from me. A musky smell floated in the air and anxiety filled me. I exhaled deeply and stood back to my feet. The book that once looked old and weary now had a green glow. My lips parted a bit as I stared at it in awe. It was like it was calling me. It wanted me to pick it up again. But I was nervous. I was still reeling from the headache that it gave me at first. But I knew that I had to pick it up.

"Everything else feels fake lately. Talking to you on those pages felt like the only time anybody was actually hearing what I meant, even if you didn't know it was me." The emotional weight behind their answers shifted the entire situation from a creepy invasion of privacy to something much heavier. It was almost like the book had become this sacred, private space that all three of us unknowingly shared. We were three broken people talking to each other through a paper wall because we were too scared to do it face to face. But I couldn't do it anymore. It felt messy, and it felt dangerous. I looked at the pages one last time, seeing the three different inks tangled together in the margins. T

Slowly, deliberately, I opened the cover. The air shifted instantly. A gust of cold wind swept through the vault, extinguishing my light orb. The book's pages fluttered as if eager, whispering in voices too faint to understand. A sting shot through my gums, sharp and sudden, making me wince. At first I thought it was nothing-just nerves, exhaustion. But then the itching spread, burrowing deep into the roots of my teeth, crawling like fire ants beneath my flesh. I gritted my teeth, clutching the book tighter even as pain surged. I felt something shifting within him, a current moving where no current should.

The warmth from the fire didn't really ease the uneasy feeling growing inside me. Taking a deep breath, I opened the book. Each page turn felt like stepping back into a past I wanted to forget. The flames continued to dance, casting a flickering light that seemed to play along with the emotions swirling within me. I turned another page, the words becoming guides through a landscape of recovery I wasn't sure I was ready to navigate. Memories, like shadows, crept in as the fire crackled. Each sentence seemed to awaken echoes of my own experiences. It was as if the library held its breath, waiting for me to absorb the weight of those stories and somehow find my own path within them.

I came violently, screaming as my pussy clenched around the energy cock. But it didn’t stop. It kept fucking me through the orgasm, drawing out every spasm until I cried. When it finally pulled back, I felt different. Stronger. Hornier. My clit throbbed constantly now. I stood up on shaky legs and stripped completely. Naked in the middle of the library, I touched my body like it belonged to someone else. My breasts felt fuller, my skin more sensitive. “More,” I demanded. The book opened by itself. This time there was no memory. Only us.

“Why are you keeping it?” He didn’t reply. I glanced at him, waiting for him to answer but his eyes were already on the book. His whole body had stiffened and a warning look etched on his face. And still… I touched it. The moment my fingers brushed it, something happened. A strange warmth shot up my arm. It was not painful, it was intense. It was like the book recognized me. Like it knew me. My breath caught in my throat, and my hand froze in place, unable and unwilling to move. It felt like it was mine, like something I lost but finally found.

A clearing in the quiet waiting for new seeds to be planted and new forests, valleys, canyons to unfold. She was nauseated. Lightheaded. Clenching her fist, the skin felt heavy, her bones aching. Her temples throbbed. She licked her lips. Swallowed, her mouth dry. Her limbs reluctant to move. It was looking at her, this book. Bleached white and pale, their stories stolen. Their words missing. The covers expensive, smelling not of leather— I don’t know how I could miss it, she’d read. It was so obvious.