Safe In His Arms Book Novels & Stories

I sucked in a shaky breath, but my body was trembling against him. His scent and strong arms wrapped around me. Giving me the comfort I needed. I gasped but was still half in my nightmare, still caught in the ghosts of the past. “Breathe,” he murmured. “You’re safe.” Safe? I thought as I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know if I believed that. But right now, with his arms holding me together. I believed that even if just for a moment.

she asked. “Yes,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest, tight and feral. “This is home now. Safe. Warm. And you’ll never have to be alone again.” I crouched further and held out my arms. The boy hesitated, then slowly stepped forward, small, careful steps, and pressed himself against my side. The little girl clung to my chest again, and I held them both. I let them stay there as long as they needed, rocking them gently, whispering softly about safety, family, and love.

I felt safe. The thought startled me with its certainty. Safety didn’t come easily to me. It wasn’t something I assumed or expected. But there it was—solid, undeniable. Wrapped around me in the shape of a man who had spent his life learning how to survive violence and still chose, every day, to be careful with me. I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened instinctively, pulling me closer. His eyes opened a moment later, dark and focused even through sleep, until they found my face.

His broad chest, which any lady would crave, and his muscular arms, which would definitely be comfortable to sleep in, His only flaw was the look on his face, which was so scary. I gazed into his eyes as he offered me his hand. I wasn't going to take it; all men are the same: perverted, derailed, and lustful. He moved closer, lifting me off the ground and carrying me in his arms. "It's not safe here; you're coming with me." His cold and thick voice gave a resounding presence in my heart as I unknowingly held him tight. What am I doing?

“I just want you to try.” He left the doorway and came to me. I didn’t resist his touch, letting him pull me into his arms. He buried his face in my neck and hair, holding me slow and steady, like nothing could pull him away. His embrace was final, undeniable. There would be no pushing him away, no arguing. I slid my hands over his broad shoulders, wrapping them around his neck. He felt so strong, so solid. Being in his arms made me feel safe, like nothing could touch me. My fingertips traced lightly along the back of his neck in slow, comforting strokes.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what but there was something about being in this place that was downright different. And lastly, confused because amidst feeling this, he felt a different sense of safety entirely. Like in one side of his body, he felt the animosity of the place, and on the other, he felt secure...brought up in heaven’s gate. Marcus couldn’t explain it, but it made him feel calm — quite a welcoming feeling in this kind of environment. ***

The last thing I remembered was a pair of strong arms scooping me and Emma up, carrying us out into the cold night air as the house burned behind us… and knowing, deep down, that my parents would never follow. . . . “NO! No, please!” I shot up from the bed, a scream ripping from my throat before I even knew it. I was drenched in sweat, my breaths coming out in sharp, broken gasps. Tears blurred my vision, panic clawing at my chest so hard I thought I might shatter completely. Suddenly, arms. Strong arms. Strong arms around me, pulling me against a warm, steady chest. “It’s okay,” a deep voice whispered urgently against my hair. “You’re safe. It’s over. You’re safe.”