Intimacies A Novel Novels & Stories

Then his hand made contact with my sore ass again as he growled, “Cum.” Our orgasms hit us both like a derailed train. My body crumpled against the desk as the high of the sex finally began to settle. His semi-hard cock pulled out of me, cum dripping down my thighs. I moaned at the feel, melting into the sweet satisfaction before the realization slammed into me. Damien just fucked me. My stepfather just fucked me. And he had done it without a condom.

Safe. His chin rested lightly on the crown of her unbound hair, the dark strands a stark contrast against the pale fabric of her nightgown. Their hands were clasped together on his chest, fingers laced, a silent testament to a connection that transcended words. And in that single, still image, I saw it all. Not the frantic desperation of shared trauma, not the fleeting comfort of proximity in the face of shared pain. This was something different. This was intimacy, a quiet understanding that bloomed in the darkness. This was safety, a haven built on unspoken empathy. This was the fragile beginning of something new, something real, taking root between them like tenacious shoots pushing throug

“But I can’t let you go. Not yet.” I didn't want to leave either. He rolled me onto my side, spooning me from behind. His cock, still hard, nudged against my ass. He pushed inside my pussy again in one smooth thrust, filling me from behind while his hand reached around to play with my clit. “This time, I want you to feel every inch while I whisper sins in your ear,” he murmured, starting to fuck me with slow, deep rolls of his hips. I moaned softly, pushing back against him. The new position felt incredibly intimate — his chest pressed to my back, his breath hot on my neck, his silver cross resting against my skin.

I wanted to be a wild alcohol drinker until I'm crawling because of intoxication, party with my friends in a club where hot boys do come, and no one can be blamed if ever I got into an accident and die. His appearance in my life is quite disturbing. The first day of the meeting, and I'm already feeling humiliated when my wolf rushed in wanting to mate. In front of my parents, my coquettishness showed that I try hard to hide! And now, there's an arrow intoxicating my body slowly, spreading all the poisons extracted into the arrow. Now, instead of just thinking about myself healing, I will also think about him endlessly without a warning. I woke up, and the first thing I saw is my mother.

Mìmì shǒuhù zhě or just Mimi, who came from the Heilong family, in which he managed to hide that he still loved a deceased woman, he stayed with her sister, to lean on, in which officially, he never married nor never had a child, apart from the woman in question herself, his son's aunt. Less than twelve years after her husband died, in the middle of that time, a month after her sister's death, they had been married in a grand ceremony, which she invited only a few large numbers of high-society magicians.

I could feel my own release building. I picked up tempo, hips pounding harder. She ensnared legs around me, clutching harder. One final forceful thrust, and I came—scalding semen spilling into her tightness. She shook beneath me, orgasm occurring as my seed flowed into her. The ritual ensnared her—her ecstasy overflowed to me, my immortality flowing into her system. I stayed inside of her as we had breathed. Her eyes locked with mine, shifted with dark craving. She was now mine, to be tied forever to this crimson thirst.”

He looked directly at me with the unflagging single focus he used when he signed a new treaty, and when the firm pressure of his fingers closed on the flesh of my hips, he completely unraveled me, not just my body, but my whole being, in a way that no act of physical intimacy has ever done before. By the time the glass outside the window grew the pale grey-white color of a wet slate stone, we lay tangled beyond disentangling under the thick down of the bed coverings. My face was flat against the center of his chest where I could hear the muffled, soft thump of his heart.

Shawn slides mine across the table, and I stare at the yellow toned envelope for what feels like forever before releasing his hand and slowly gliding my fingers across the edge. I shrug, walking over to the checkered couch, and falling onto the stiff cushions, “I haven’t earned privacy. You two are in this mess because of me,” my nail slides beneath the glue sealing away the information on my new life. “You deserve to know what’s inside.”

I stuttered. He doesn't answer. He just goes still beside me, and after a while his breathing evens out into something like sleep, and I lie there in a bed that isn't mine, in a room I've never once been welcome in, feeling more like a debt collected than a wife. The first physical closeness was born from jealousy and control rather than choice. Obligation fulfilled. Intimacy still absent. The open wound at the center of everything. I slip out before the sun's fully up, gathering my dress off the floor with hands that won't quite stop shaking, and I walk the whole length of the house back to the east wing alone.

Finding the perfect pace, he thrust in and out of me. My muscles tightened and my sex clamped. “Fuck! Xavier! I’m cumin!” He quickened his pace, chasing his release with me. My whole body writhed from intense pleasure as a wave of orgasm hit me. Xavier increased his pace, and he slammed deeper, hitting the perfect spot. I kept writhing until he came in three heavy spurts, his semen filling the condom. He placed his forehead on mine, breathing me in as perfect exhaustion took over. Before I fell into the realm of exhaustion, I felt him pull me into his arms.