Trembled Definition Novels & Stories

“But you know the funniest thing, my friend? I just decided that I no longer need your services.” Another bang that deafens me, another shot. And the shock haunts me in such a way that I start to tremble compulsively, desperate and distressed. Even when I try to control myself so as not to draw attention, my feet that rest on the tracks tremble at an absurd speed. I swallow the cry and force air into my lungs, still covering my mouth with trembling hands. The tremor in my body becomes more intense, uncontrollable. The shock gives way to understanding in a matter of moments, and I suddenly turn my head to the left, where the light of the subway headlights run at full speed to meet me.

Every flick, every curl, every press made me tremble more, shiver harder, cry out louder. “Kael… oh god… I can’t… I’m coming…” My voice broke, shivering, trembling violently, hair tangled in his hands, nails gripping his shoulders. My body shuddered, trembling, moaning, writhing under his relentless tongue and fingers. He hummed, groaning, curling fingers, thumb circling, lips pressing, relentless. I cried out, trembling, shivering, moaning, gasping, body trembling, writhing, desperate, dripping, completely undone.

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.

The tremor rolled beneath their feet like a living thing—slow at first, then sharp, cracking through the broken stone pillars with a low, groaning sound that echoed through the hollow chamber. Dust drifted down in pale sheets, whispering over Adrian’s shoulders as he held Emily tighter, his body tensing like a creature sensing a predator before it appeared.

I squeezed my hands in an effort to quiet the trembling, but as it registered, I realized it was no longer contained to my hands but racking my entire body, making my knees increasingly weak. Like a jittery statue I stood waiting, fearful that he would return and yet more terrified that he'd look elsewhere to wreak his fury. As time stood still, air returned to my lungs and slowed my tremors. My breaths were the only sound as I searched for noise of him down the hall with Chelsea.

‌ That made it wo‌‌r‍se. Her hands‍ tremb⁠led as she reac‌‍hed for th⁠e folder.‍ The paper⁠ f‌elt heavie⁠r tha‍n it sh⁠ould‍ have. She open‍ed it sl⁠ow‍ly like s⁠⁠he w‌as afrai⁠‍d i‍t might⁠ disa‍ppear i‍f s‍h⁠e⁠⁠ mo‌ve‍d t⁠oo fast‍.⁠‌

The storm inside me shuddered, faltered, and dimmed. The flames sputtered, shrinking back into my skin until only faint sparks remained. I collapsed to my knees, sweat stinging my eyes. My whole body trembled from the effort of holding it back.

My whole body trembled at his words, my pussy clenching and leaking nonstop as I kept fucking myself deeper, adding a third finger to stretch myself even wider for him and the camera. The pressure inside me kept building higher and higher, my thighs shaking, my breath coming in short desperate gasps. Then I heard the heavy roll of his office chair pushing back downstairs, followed by the slow sound of his footsteps starting up the basement stairs toward my room.

In moments of sharp stress, or in the cold grip of the nightmare, a fine, uncontrollable tremor started in his fingers. It was trembling now. He gazed at it, hypnotized by the betrayal of his own body. This was the truth the slick corporate executives like Anton Rogers never saw. This was the cost of failure. It was not a mark in a file or a promotion denied. It was a tremor in the dark. It was the resonance of a little girl's scream that would never fully fade. He tightened his fist, tendons standing out, trying to throttle the weakness, to steady himself by will alone. The trembling persisted, a fine, frantic shaking.

My heart pounded softly, and I could feel it tremble slightly. “Lenora,” he called again as I moved closer to them. And suddenly his father's hand twitched. I blinked, and I wasn't sure if I had imagined it, and then it happened again. His fingers moved slowly, and his hand shook. I moved closer to him without thinking, and my breath caught my throat. “Trent,” I whispered in a low tone. Trent didn't move; he was stuck staring at his father and couldn't believe his father's hand could tremble.