More Than A Body Novels & Stories

I wasn’t just the woman who died alone. I was more than pretty. And this time? They were going to see every damn bit of me.

Like maybe I could take it back. Maybe I could reclaim my body. “I used to think my body was the problem,” I admitted quietly. “Like it caused everything. Like it made people hurt me.” He shook his head. “Your body’s not the enemy. It’s a survivor. It’s been protecting you the best way it knows how.” Tears came again, but softer this time. “Sometimes I hate my body.” Lane didn’t flinch. He just nodded. “That’s okay. Many survivors feel that way. But your body deserves love. It deserves peace. And so do you.”

Linked their bodies forever. To be continue

“Because this isn’t the first time it’s happened.” I shift uncomfortably. “I don’t know.” I could really do without this conversation right now. She watches me closely. “You said you couldn’t. That you weren’t in the right headspace or whatever. But it felt like more than that.” I say nothing. She presses on, gently. “It’s not… a physical thing, is it? Like, not a medical problem?” “No,” I say too fast. “No. It’s not that.” Her gaze sharpens. “Then what is it? Because you kiss me like you mean it, and then your body just… it just shuts off.”

"God I am never going to get tired of hearing you say those words and saying them back to you," "Me too," She replied and he was kissing her, she didn't know just how much she missed his kiss, his touch on her, pregnancy made her extra sensitive that when he touched her, her body responded instantly. "I want you, Kat," He whispered between kisses. "I want you too,"

"Earlier at the gallery he explained the 'Fragile' installation in an interesting way. He talked about cause and effect and stuff like that. It was different from how we saw it." Steven raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" I swallowed. "It was a random thought." "Sometimes simple thoughts are honest," Steven said calmly. "In medicine you learn to read peoples bodies " I nodded. "The body is like a canvas,” he continued. "One person uses paint. The other uses the body itself and time." It sounded poetic, maybe too poetic for dinner. Rachel smiled, impressed. "You should write that down." I didn't know why my chest felt tight.

“What, like five mil per year? And that’s the minimum package that Tetragrammaton Tech offers. The base package comes with three clone bodies total. To get more, you’ve gotta upgrade.” Miko nodded resolutely. The cost was ridiculously steep. But that wasn’t why it wasn’t attractive. “This sounds amazing, right? However there is more to it. Human life is rooted in our individual consciousness. Once this body dies, so does its consciousness. It will not suddenly transfer to the clone body. She will have the same memories, but her own consciousness.” The third EyeCast circled around them until they were silhouettes painted against Sol’s light. As they spoke, it recorded what seemed to be like a

"The human is dead." My heart dropped at those words. "But—" "When I took over his body his essence had no place to go. When your First Lieutenant leaves the human, the body will soon expire." I blinked. "There's no way to bring him back?" "No. The human shell is completely empty of his essence. He has gone to whatever heaven or hell humans go after death." I had gotten to know the body that Ran had lived in for the last two months. It made me sad that this human was no longer needed, he would just be disposed of, and the life that once belonged there was long gone.

As if my body has forgotten what to do with its own size. My knees spread wide, forearms braced on my thighs, phone hanging loose in one hand, and there I am in the glass: massive, inked, sweating, breathing too hard for a man sitting still. A body built for impact. A body that makes other men brace before I even reach them. A body women look at like it promises something primitive and uncomplicated. A body that I have spent years turning into proof that I am not easily owned by anything. And all of it means nothing.

SANTOS Rosy's pleasure-filled moans of “more” was what drew me out of the deep daze my want for her threw me in. God, she was like an addiction. Just touching her body a little and I was already craving more. So much more. It had always been like that. I felt angry at myself for not being able to control myself better. I was not supposed to feel that strongly for her. Not anymore. “More....please...!” she cried out again, her eyes closed as she fumbled with my jeans.