Loving A Stranger Novels & Stories

His mouth was warm and sweet. I parted my lips, welcoming his tongue and enjoying the little tingles in my body. I didn’t expect to react this way, but I didn’t pull back as I had this unexpected hunger, an insatiable sexual desire that only this stranger could fill. It was probably because no one had kissed and touched me since Marcus died and not even before Isabella was born.

Anderson asked out of nowhere. Kit wanted to answer but doesn't know what to say. Loving someone who already hurt you is stupid for Kit. Falling in love with someone and not being able to tell them is torture. Nobody deserves to experience things like that. The last place they visited was the Dos Hermanos Islands. The allure of the islets gave a different kind of emotion to Anderson. His eyes were glowing, and Kit could see it. Without realizing it, a smile formed on his lips when he saw Anderson smiled.

On paper, anyway. Slowly, I moved closer until I stood beside his bed. His hand rested on top of the sheet. I hesitated before resting my hand on his. “You don’t know me,” I whispered. “But I know you.” His eyelids moved so slight I almost thought I imagined it, I held my breath. Not now. I wasn’t ready for him to wake up. I straightened quickly, reminding myself of the role I was playing. If he woke now, I needed to be the doting wife, not the vengeful stranger. I smoothed the blanket over his chest, letting my hand linger just long enough for it to look natural.

“That’s nice. But I should really—” “Wait.” His voice was firm, commanding enough to still my steps. “What’s your name?” “I don’t tell my name to strangers,” I muttered, turning away. But before I could move, his hand caught my arm. Startled, my feet tangled beneath me. I stumbled, bracing for the cold floor—but instead I collided with something hard, warm. My heartbeat roared in my ears.

Almost instinctively, I pulled out my phone and checked my browsing history for the video from last night. In it, the side profiles of the two elderly people were identical to the faces of my in-laws standing before me now. If the clip hadn't flashed by so quickly, I would have recognized them right away. And in other videos—those fleeting, fragmented moments—my wife, Cynthia Muller, appeared again and again, holding a child in her arms. The little boy called her "Mom" with intimate affection. Under a sky lit by fireworks, the man held her close and kissed her.

I said. “Where? Should I drive you?” he asked. I snapped my head at him. “Why? You're bored and looking for a plaything to pass the time with?” I asked harshly. His brows creased. “What?” “Listen, Aaron, you don't like me, I get it, stop confusing me. One minute you're nice, the next minute you're shouting at me. Sometimes you make me feel like we are buddies and other times, you remind me that we are nothing but strangers to each other”

The stranger knelt by the water, their movements slow as exhaustion and pain caught up within them. “You’re hurt,” Olivia said softly, sitting beside them. “I’ll manage,” they replied. Olivia dipped her hands into the cold water, using it to clean the dirt and blood from their wound. They flinched but didn’t pull away, their eyes watched her with gratitude and something deeper. “Why do you care?” they asked suddenly. Olivia paused. “Because I don’t want to lose the only person keeping me alive.” The stranger’s eyes softened. “Don’t get too attached. This… it doesn’t end well for people like us.”

He could hear hands working desperately at the lock and that made him brim with anticipation. Finally, he thought, till the door opened for him to see a tall macho man with overgrown beards and tattoos scattered all over his body. The shock from seeing the stranger made him almost unable to speak. He had heavy rock music pounding in his apartment. “Can I help you mate?” his deep voice could make anybody’s knees buckle with frightful intimidation. “Sorry…I came to the wrong door,” Kylian broke out in an uncoordinated stutter, “I was looking for some girl named Maya, she lives on this floor…I don’t know if you might know her, somehow.”

I have to let him make love to me no matter what ,I don't care if I like him or not . I don't care if his a stranger or not . I needed to forget them .

I looked up, my tear-filled eyes meeting the gaze of a stranger—a kind face, weathered by time and etched with compassion. "Are you alright?" the stranger asked, concern, lacing their voice. "You seem lost and in need of help." I mustered the strength to speak, my voice shaky and raw. "I... I've been banished... betrayed... I have nowhere to go." The stranger's eyes softened, their empathy palpable. "Come with me," they said, extending a hand. "I have a small cabin nearby. You can find shelter and warmth for the night." With trembling limbs, I accepted the stranger's offer of kindness. Their touch was gentle as they helped me to my feet, guiding me through the darkness. Each step felt like a