Tremble Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

He didn’t. My hand settled gently over his trembling one where it lay on his knee. His skin was cold. His fingers flinched beneath mine, then slowly, hesitantly, turned, lacing through mine with a desperate, clinging pressure. His grip was crushing, anchoring himself to me as if I were the only solid thing in a world dissolving into chaos. A choked sob escaped him, muffled against the darkness. He bowed his head again, his forehead almost touching our joined hands, his shoulders shaking with silent, wracking tremors.

And for the first time, I felt him tremble. Not from anger. From something worse. Something that looked a lot like pain.

He growled and I flinched. Trembling, my fingers reached for the hem of the dress.

The tremors continued, a constant, ominous reminder of the ticking clock. The rhythm mic tremor, once a subtle unease, had escalated into a relentless pulse that vibrated through the very bones of the subterranean world. Dust rained from the ceiling, coating everything in a fine layer of grey, a constant reminder of their precarious existence. The Lumina, normally resilient and resourceful, were beginning to show the strain. Their faces, usually alight with a soft inner glow, were etched with exhaustion and fear.

Drawing every tremble from her bones. She was still shaking when Cade finally slowed his strokes. But Beckett gave her one last, unrelenting plunge of his fingers, curling them just right and she cried out again, over-sensitized, sobbing into the mat. It was too much. It was perfect. Only then did his hand lift away. She was gasping, trembling, her whole body slick with sweat and slickness. Her cheeks were wet. Her thighs shook. A breath passed. Then, a soft chime.

It's deliberate, threaded with intent. I clear my throat, snapping the folder shut. "Then you'll have to find someone else to play them with." My words are strong. My hands betray me, trembling slightly against the table. ⸻ CAINE The tremor is beautiful. She's fighting herself harder than she's fighting me. Fear and attraction, colliding in real time. I don't press harder—not yet. I recline, stretching one arm across the back of the booth, as if this were casual, as if I hadn't already memorized the exact shade her cheeks turn when she's flustered.

Tremors wracked his entire body, and he fought to remain upright as waves of anguish crashed over him. Ederic's surroundings seemed to fade away, his senses dulled by the overwhelming grief. The world became a blur for a moment, his vision clouded by tears. He moved closer to his mother's bedside, standing there as if in a trance. His trembling hands reached out to touch hers, the effort to steady his own shaking fingers a monumental task.

My body trembles with the effort to hold back. I hover there. Shaking. Leaking onto his chin. Craving that explosive release more than anything.

My whole body trembles, a low, uncontrollable shudder that seems to resonate down to my very bones. Lance sits on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, the muscles in his back coiled tight, each ridge standing out starkly in the dim light. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, fingers flexing as if he's trying to grasp the weight of his mistake.

And then it comes. “Oh my God, fuck!” I cry out loud, the words torn from my throat, my lips trembling violently. I hold on to him tight, my fingers digging into his back, my nails probably leaving marks. I press myself down against him, his dick buried deep inside me to the hilt, to the absolute maximum, as I release my juices, squeezing against him, pulsating, groaning, clinging tightly to him as my body trembles uncontrollably, a violent, delicious tremor. God, it’s overwhelming, a force of nature. My eyelids roll up, my eyes roll up into the back of my head, my eyelids fluttering rapidly, my lips trembling uncontrollably as the orgasm pours out of me, a never-ending flood, raking through