Intimacies A Novel Novels & Stories

“I want to explore every inch of both my girls. No more hiding at work either, Vannia. You belong to us now.” Lena smiled sleepily, stroking her daughter’s back. “We’re a family. A very special one.” Sleep came in fits and starts, filled with wandering hands and soft kisses. Vannia woke once to find Marcus slowly fucking Lena beside her. When he noticed she was awake, he pulled out and guided her mouth to clean him before sliding back into her mother. The casual intimacy of it left Vannia aching with twisted love and lust.

He said softly,"Pia, please stop crying, and this problem has only one solution. Let's get married." Hearing his words, Pia looked at him with shock. They were looking at each other. Viren knew he was making the decision hastily. Marriage is a very important part of life. He was never interested in marrying anyone after Kiara, but now the situation is different, he has no other option. It is true, he lives in the city and belongs to modern society, but still, he believes that intimacy should be between husband and wife only. He never touches any woman because he also believes that only his wife has the right to touch him and now, when he shares the intimacy with Pia, he cannot behave as if n

BENEATH THE FACADE Behind the façade of wealth and power, a web of secrets awaits.. Chapter 99 Emily’s POV Darkness. Soft and endless, wrapping itself around me like a heavy blanket. I drifted in and out of it, sometimes floating, sometimes sinking so deep I thought I’d never reach the surface again. There were moments when faint sounds trickled in — distant murmurs, footsteps shuffling against tiled floors, the soft beep-beep of something close to my ear.

Has he been blind to the pain he caused? Arthur’s thoughts are chaotic, one moment consumed by rage, the next by guilt. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Jeremy’s words make him feel like he’s staring into a mirror—and he doesn’t like what he sees. He gets up, pacing the room. His eyes land on the scattered remnants of Madin’s belongings: a forgotten scarf on the bed, a worn notebook tucked under a pillow. Arthur grabs the notebook, opening it with trembling fingers. Inside are sketches and notes—small, fleeting pieces of Madin’s thoughts. Some pages hold quick drawings of the palace gardens, others are covered in fragments of poetry. But one page catches Arthur’s eye.

Luke said, “I'm so happy you're here, Liam.” “I'm happy to be here.” “I'm sorry for acting weird last night.” “It's fine.” Liam replied, “Can we talk about something else?” “Like a movie? A novel? Anything that's not about this… us?” “Well, let's talk about novels,” Luke said, “What's your favorite novel?” “The Way He Looks At Me by GemJade,” Liam answered.

This man I had been so afraid of for so long that fear had become its own kind of intimacy. I felt, Nothing. Not bravery. Not defiance. Just the absolute blankness of a woman who had run out of the capacity to be affected by one more person tonight. “Goodnight Matteo,” I said. And walked out. My room was dark when I closed the door behind me. I didn’t turn on the light. I just stood in the middle of it. In the dark. In the quiet. A woman in London. I pressed both hands over my face. And stood there. Not crying this time.

A dull, heavy throb started low in my belly—not the pain of the miscarriage this time, but the ache of an empty womb and a body that missed its mate. I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammering. Was that a lie? Could a man fake that kind of hunger? Could he fake the way he shuddered when I touched him? Could he fake the way he whispered my name when he came, like it was a prayer he was terrified to speak? No. You couldn’t fake that friction. You couldn’t fake the electricity that snapped between us every time we were in the same room. The contract might have been a lie. The marriage license might have been signed under false pretenses. But the sex? The intimacy?

# THE HUSBAND I IMAGINED ## Season Two: The Life We Chose *A steamy contemporary romance novel — sequel season* --- ## Chapter One: The Journalist Vivian Cross had been building her career for fifteen years on exactly one skill: finding the seam in a story that everyone else had already decided was finished.

In his arms Esmeray felt warm, she felt safe~ His chest was pressed against her back, his face buried in the crook of her neck as his body shook with silent sobs. When his tears damped her neck Esmeray's own eyes moistened. Esmeray had always thought that being intimate with a man meant to have sex but now laying in the Vampire's bed fully clothed Esmeray realized that this was the most intimate moment she had ever spent with anyone. She didn't know before but this was the type of intimacy her soul had always craved. She wanted to be touched with love, she wanted to be looked at, to be admired, smiled at. She wanted to be close to someone's soul.

A cloth, a reel of condoms, and a card dropped on the desk. I hooked my finger under my nose. Odessa stepped back. I grabbed a pen and lifted what seemed to be an underwear in the air. The soiled boxers swung on the pen. “What in the world!” Odessa examined the garment. “Is that semen?” For fuck sake! I groaned and dropped the pen and boxers in the nearby bin. Odessa snatched up the package, reading. “There is no returning address.” I turned my head to read the card. No handwriting. Some fucker thought it was funny to piece cut out letters from magazines on a white card. ‘A gift to my precious omega’. Wow! What was this world coming to?