Jessie Shiver: A Short Story

She felt the strength in his arms as he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. His hands gripping her back side as if he wanted to commit every last curve to memory. But it was the kiss that send her mind spinning. She moaned and met his passion with her own, her teeth catching his bottom lip and tugging as her body pressed firmly against his.

She moved to face me, her nose only inches from my own. I could feel her jagged breath brushing against the flesh of my face. I wanted nothing more than to stay forever. Don't get overly attatched. It was too late for that. Her hands push gently against my cheeks, all warm and soft. Butterflies erupt in the pits of my stomach in

She kept up the pace as Gwaine moaned. His hips bucked as he writhed and buried his fists in her hair. Shivering, his breath came in short, choppy pants. “Gwen… Fuck, I—” was all he managed before his whole body tensed and he came in her mouth with a growl.

Any thoughts had disappeared, however, when she felt the peak of pleasure, intensified by his lips teasing her clit. It felt so good that she hadn't even realized her own earlier reactions, body relaxing but mind becoming more alert once he rose to his feet and gave her that look. "Was it? I don't think so. I don't recall saying your name." she was quick to deny it, although she couldn't help but break into a smile a moment later. She could

He felt the warmth of her hand flowing into his own, and although he wished to hold it longer, he reluctantly let go. He felt arms wrapping around his body, and a tingly sensation in his endoskeleton came to the surface.

As soon as he stepped into the alcove, two hands were upon his chest, fingers gripping his shirt and pulling him forwards. Then he felt her breath against the nape of his neck, heard her voice low and husky on his

She didn't stop him, as they both indulge in each other's passion. His sweat crawling down to her body while she held him tight, she gazed at his eyes.

His fingers slide up her stomach and meet hers at her top, aiding her as she pulls the last layer of it up and off her chest. Her breasts fall free, and he grasps them in his large hands, thumbs running across the hardening peaks of her nipples. “Beautiful.” He says, as she leans into his hands, mouth opening on a whine. The hardening length of him presses insistently against her thighs as she straddles him.

A dark wizard has cursed Shelby Winters. Even her skills as a witch can’t save her. Fearing her death will come soon, she leaves her home to find a peaceful place to spend the rest of her shortened life. With stories about shifters, witches, and other supernaturals living on the island, she hopes she’ll be able to hide out in West End.

From the way his body held onto hers, grasped hers, Evelyn felt as if he was taking all of her. Every inch of her body was his, every soft, gentle curve. Every supple inch of her silk like skin was his to roam over, to claim. The female’s back arched forward with every touch to her swelling mounds. She couldn’t get enough of him. As she heard his familiar, deep tone a slow, cheeky smirk crossed over her lips as her hues almost glistened with intent. “I’m yours?” She repeated softly, her lips open and waiting for his. Except, he didn’t continue their kiss. Her gaze drifted down as she saw him force his way into her, parting her to fit him within her. A satisfied groan escaped her as she felt his lips meet hers once more, her own were already crushing ferociously against them within seconds.

Letting her spirit flow around and through him, she wrapped him in her embrace. She lay beside him, kissed his face and stroked his dampened hair.

'till he pushed it into his mouth, taking in as much as possible and sucking it.

Michael took long strides towards her. Before Juli was able to move away, he was already in front of her, placing the palm of his hands on her cold cheeks and stroking them with his thumb. Juli squeezed her eyes shut as Michael pressed his forehead against hers. It was silent for a few seconds, them both savoring the

He hands found their way to her waist, holding her flush against him as his kisses trailed down to her collarbone. A shudder ran through her body as she fought the urge to jerk away.

Immigration remains an isolating endeavor. One must leave behind all that is known – family, friends, loved ones – to travel to an unfamiliar land with unknown people. Moving away from one’s country can feel as though its severing the connections one holds to their homeland. Stories such as Chimamanda Adichie’s “The Thing Around Your Neck” and “The Shivering” attempt to shed a light on the immigrant experience and the struggle to find intimacy that often accompanies it. Adichie’s characters attempt to come to terms with and remedy this loss of connection to their home country of Nigeria during the immigration process by finding new forms of intimacy in America. After losing her boyfriend, Ukamaka in “The Shivering”, and the unnamed narrator in “The Thing Around Your Neck”, who is forced to move away from her uncle after he sexually assaults her, seek new sources of solace and comfort as well as a connection to their homeland by reaching out to new people and forming new intimate relationships with them. The two stories represent two different ends of the spectrum – “The Shivering” depicts how an intimate friendship can add in curing this loneliness while “The Thing Around Your Neck” showcases an unhealthy relationship’s detrimental toll on a person and the inner conflict it causes between keeping ones only source of intimacy and the desire to desert those who hurt us.