Loving You And Holding Her Novels & Stories

I let out a moan and so did she while her warm breath traveled into my face. She took my hand holding it in her both hands and places it as open palm on her heart to hold it there. "See how my heart beats hard for you." I had no words to describe my craving for her at the moment. Her eyes exude love, lust, innocence and respect for me. My hand went back to hold her neck and kiss her raw. Her other hand slowly wraps around me and I intend to never let it go.

He would never understand what that moonstone meant to me. He would never know how much I had wanted to leave it to our pup, how much I had hoped it would protect our pup. I remembered the time he was ambushed by rogue wolves and was gravely injured. I had risked everything, gone alone into enemy territory to bring him back. I recalled how, on the verge of death, he held my hand and promised he would treat me well for the rest of his life. We had vowed to be each other’s most loyal mates, and I had held him tightly and cried tears of happiness.

"It's okay, sweetheart, you're safe now. You're not—" "No!" I cut her off, my voice trembling but firm. "I am. I can take a DNA test." She hesitated, her gaze locking with mine. When she saw the shattered conviction in my eyes, her expression shifted—from pity to shock.

She jumped to her feet, holding my hand tightly to her chest, overflowing with happiness. I stood up on my toes and pulled her into a tight hug. She hugged me back and whispered, "I love you." A huge smile spread across my face as I replied, "I love you too." We let go of the hug and locked eyes, feeling the intensity between us. I couldn't wait to spend the night with her.

It clattered against the wood and skidded out of sight. “I never stopped loving you,” she whispered. “I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t fix it.” She crawled over to me slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. When she was right in front of me, she looked up, her hands on my chest, trembling. “Please,” she said, voice so soft it almost didn’t exist. “Just… hold me. Just for a minute. I need to feel like I’m still real.” I didn’t move. I didn’t push her away, but I didn’t pull her in either.

Both of them so small against the white sheets that something in my chest split clean open. I walked to Loveth first because she was the one who fainted first, the one who had started all of this, and I sat on the edge of her bed very carefully and picked up her hand and held it the way she always held mine when she was scared both hands wrapped around mine, fingers laced tight, like she was trying to make sure I couldn’t go anywhere. I held it exactly like that. “Hey baby,” I said softly. “Mommy’s here.” She didn’t respond.

My hand is on her back and legs to hold her steady. My heart unfurls with so much warmth. So much love. I could explode of it. It feels like too much happiness, but then there is no such thing. So I hold her and we don't say anything for a moment.

“We’ve got this. Together.” She nodded, sliding her arms around his neck. “Together.” His body sank into hers, both a promise and a question—how to hold two miracles at once, how to love beyond measure. And in the soft focus of their shared heartbeat, she whispered, “I love you.” He held her tighter. “I love you more.” The End

With a reluctant nod, I acquiesced to her plans, knowing that this was only the beginning of a whirlwind journey toward our shared future. The remainder of the evening passed in a blissful blur, each moment etched into my memory as I savoured the surreal realization that I was now engaged to Noah. ---------------- The following morning dawned with reluctant clarity, the lingering euphoria of the previous night fading with the encroaching light. As I attempted to extricate myself from the embrace of slumber, Noah's arms tightened around me, his whispered protest a gentle plea for respite from the demands of the outside world. "Can't we just stay here, together, all day?" Noah murmured, his li

I rested my cheek lightly against the top of her head and held her properly, firmly, carefully, as though I could physically shield her from every ugly thing trying to reach us. Her fingers curled tightly into the back of my shirt. And we stayed there quietly in the middle of the kitchen while morning sunlight spilled across the counters around us, because sometimes love was not found in explanations or promises or long conversations. Sometimes it was simply found in being held by the person who knew exactly how to quiet the storm inside your chest without needing a single word at all.