Warm Bodies Novel Novels & Stories

The glowing smoke dissipated in a rush of warmth and glittering ash. Her arms fell. Blood surged down into her numb fingers in a rush that almost made her dizzy. Relief hit like a drug, sharp and bright, loosening something in her chest. She almost didn’t notice. Her wish had been granted. She trailed her hands up his thick, scaled thighs, around his hips, and to his backside. She squeezed the muscles. Obsidian rocks in their own right. Heat bled through the scales, far hotter than human skin, enough to warm her palms and send a pulse of answering heat through her belly. His body felt enormous under her hands—dangerous, powerful, undeniably alive.

****Chloe**** That something is warm and makes my body warm up. It feels so good after today. The warmth moves up and down on my arm. It must be my dream already. I must be so sleepy that I immediately fall asleep and a nice dream welcomes me. The warmth now changes direction and caresses my side with slow circles. It feels like a palm on my body but I don't complain because this feels so good. I push my body closer to this warmth because I want to feel it more intensely. A moan leaves my lips and I feel that I start to turn on.

Wyatt pulls out of me just as he orgasms, his come dripping down my bare thigh. He rests his head against my shoulder, trying to steady his rapid breathing. I stare past him at the wall. Four minutes. For four minutes I was happy again. I felt something. I forgot! But now, it's all rushing back. All the pain and the crushing, lonely misery. I have to get up, clean myself, put on my dress and go back out there. I can't escape the truth of the situation. Wilder is gone and I am here at his funeral to mourn him. I am broken and I am lost. Quick sex on a funeral parlor sink isn't going to fix that. Nothing will fix that. I might as well have died with him.

I couldn't feel sadness or heartbreak. The only thing that gave me any relief was hurting myself. Watching blood flow out of my body was the only way I could catch a breath in the suffocating darkness. I clenched my fists and smiled in a considerate way. "You're overthinking it. I really don't feel well. Everything that happened before is in the past. Let's stop talking about it." Yvonne froze. A flicker of guilt appeared in her eyes. "Really?" After several seconds of silence, she said solemnly, "Then get some rest. If you really feel unwell, you should go to the hospital."

And then: warmth. From the south of the dreamwalking space, which had a south the way that places in dreams have directions , not literal, not compass-accurate, just felt , warmth arrived. It was the specific warmth of being recognized. Of being seen by something vast and knowing you were seen. I felt it in my chest before I could locate it with anything else, and the initial response , the cellular response, the body's response before the mind caught up , was to want to move toward it. I stayed where I was.

Every inch of cold air between them vanished. Warmth engulfed her. Not ordinary warmth. Not the fleeting comfort of a blanket. This felt entirely different. Like standing beside a hearth after wandering through a blizzard. Like thawing frozen fingers over burning coals. Like being bathed in sunlight after a cold bath. Estelle's body betrayed her instantly. Every muscle relaxed. Every ounce of tension and resistance dissolved. A strange sound escaped her lips. Estelle glared, or rather she tried to glare. But she couldn't , she just couldn't.

Not by rogue claws or Alpha rejection, but by simple cold on a mountain I was too weak to survive. Then my blood stirred. The warmth came suddenly, shockingly, spreading from my core outward like liquid fire. It pushed back against the cold, driving the numbness from my extremities, filling me with heat that had no natural source. I gasped as feeling returned to my fingers and toes, as my shivering restarted with violent intensity. The Crimson blood, I realized. It was protecting me.

Warmth is the first thing I notice. Not numbness. Not pain. Not cold damp earth or matted leaves. Warmth. It wraps around me like heavy wool, pressing against my skin, seeping into every one of my bones. My body feels weightless and impossibly heavy at the same time. Then the pain returns.

It frustrated me that he thought me so little of me that he was convinced I was unable to make my way to the dinning hall. I stepped forward, Vycer's hands locked into mine. I hated that feeling. The feeling of interlaced fingers. Every part of my body wanted to rip my hand from his yet, I also found the warmth of his palms soothing, settling. So much different from the icy embrace that he sported just a day earlier. It very much reminded me of Jace. How he, and his people, always felt warm. It didn't matter what group of Wild Ones I encountered on my travels because they all emitted the same warmth. As if they could channel the heat of the sun into their hands. I had never met anyone who co

was happening, I was on the bed and Mark was climbing on top of me. The vodka was starting to make the room spin and the numbness that it provided was a welcoming feeling. I was brought back to reality by a sharp pain that I felt in my chest. I looked down and realized that what I was feeling was Marks teeth on my breasts. Mark was like a rabid animal. His eyes were hard and the expression on his face was darker than it had been a few moments age. I heard the ripping sound before I felt the pressure of my underwear being yanked from my body. Marks hands were around my neck again and I felt the pain of his dick penetrating me deeply. He did not make it romantic or even try to be gentle with