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Madness

مؤلف: Bree
last update آخر تحديث: 2025-08-20 13:29:58

Isabella’s POV

Pain. That was the first thing I felt. A deep, dull ache in her wrists, the lingering tightness of the rope pressing into my skin even though it had loosened slightly overnight. I stirred, wincing as the sting flared again.

Where am I?

A shiver ran down my spine. The air was cold, the room dimly lit by the faint morning light slipping through a window I couldn’t quite see. I shifted, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, but then—

I froze.

A presence. Heavy. Intense. Watching.

My heart pounded against my ribcage as I turned my head, my breath catching in my throat.

He was there.

Sitting across the room, unmoving, his dark eyes pinned to me as if I might vanish if he blinked. His broad shoulders were tense, his chiseled face unreadable. He looked… haunted. Possessive. Like a man staring at something that could slip off his hand any second.

Did he stay here watching me sleep all night?

A shudder of unease crawled dow
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  • Damien's Willing Captive    Cleo’s Return

    Damien’s POV I didn’t speak for a full ten seconds. Not because I didn’t have anything to say. But because everything I wanted to say would’ve sounded like a fucking war drum. “You’re not staying at my house and that's final.” Cleo shrugged one delicate shoulder, completely unfazed. “Take it up with your HR department. Or Davidson. Or fate. I’m just following orders.” “Bullshit.” Her grin widened. “You always hated coincidences. But this one? It’s delicious.” I stalked toward her. “You think this is a game?” “No,” she said softly. “I think this is karma.” We stood inches apart now. The air between us was tight, electric. Dangerous. “You better get out of my sight.” She didn’t blink. “Or what?” I stared at her, barely containing the sheer fury that was building in my chest. My jaw locked. My nostrils flared. She was taunting me. Again. I stormed out of the room, not bothering with a goodbye, not even pretending to be civil. She didn’t follow—not yet—bu

  • Damien's Willing Captive    The Specialist

    Damien’s POV I didn’t breathe. I didn’t blink. Because the woman standing in front of me… was her. Cleo fucking Richmond. My ex-fiancée. The girl who once carved her name into my chest with love—and damn near carved out my heart with betrayal. She should’ve been halfway across the globe, sulking in someone else’s penthouse, licking her wounds with some rich rebound. She shouldn’t be here, in my boardroom, dressed like she’d stepped out of a fantasy I didn’t ask for. Her bubble-blonde curls tumbled around her shoulders, glossy and wild, as if she hadn’t aged a day—but her eyes… They were different. Sharper. Hungrier. What the hell is she doing here? Mr. Davidson cleared his throat. “Mr Voss, this is the specialist I was telling you about. Ms. Richmond. Cybersecurity and legal counterintelligence. She’s—” “Qualified,” Cleo interrupted, sauntering forward like she owned the damn place. “Top of my class at Cambridge. Ran ops with Interpol. Consulted for two F

  • Damien's Willing Captive    Heels and a Smirk

    Damien's POV I sat at the head of the conference table, surrounded by voices that blurred into background noise. The room buzzed with tension…executives shifting papers, scrolling through slides, pitching ideas—but none of it held my attention. Not when the only thing on my mind was her. She was locked up in my house right now. Isabella. The girl who had once given me a night that changed everything…and now looked at me like a monster. If only she remembered. If only she knew what that night in Colorado had meant to me. The way her body responded to mine without hesitation. The way she let me take her…claim her…over and over until we collapsed into each other, breathless and raw. The things I did to her that night. Fuck. I had never known that kind of satisfaction before. Never. Not even with my history with women. Every woman before her had felt… lacking. I always held back—restrained the darkest parts of myself. Until Isabella. She let me unravel her completely. Let

  • Damien's Willing Captive    Betrayed By the Body

    Isabella’s POV "Let go of me!" I snarled, twisting in his grip. My voice cracked with rage and panic, but he didn’t move. His hands gripped my arms firmly—not violently, but with a maddening certainty that made my skin crawl. I screamed as I tried to pull away from him but he held me tightly in place as he parted my legs open even more. “Shh," he blew against my folds and a shiver went down my spine. "You're already wet for me yet you're trying to fight me,” he said as he chuckled darkly. That sound did more things to my body than I cared to admit and that made me sick. “You really are a sick bastard," I spat, my voice shaking with rage. "Kidnapping me—then shoving your face between my legs like I’m just another whore? What the hell is wrong with you? Is this your routine? Snatch up women and pretend you know them?! You're a freak!" But instead of answering, his mouth moved lower, and the sudden flick of his tongue against my core made my breath hitch. I bit down hard

  • Damien's Willing Captive    Madness

    Isabella’s POV Pain. That was the first thing I felt. A deep, dull ache in her wrists, the lingering tightness of the rope pressing into my skin even though it had loosened slightly overnight. I stirred, wincing as the sting flared again. Where am I? A shiver ran down my spine. The air was cold, the room dimly lit by the faint morning light slipping through a window I couldn’t quite see. I shifted, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, but then— I froze. A presence. Heavy. Intense. Watching. My heart pounded against my ribcage as I turned my head, my breath catching in my throat. He was there. Sitting across the room, unmoving, his dark eyes pinned to me as if I might vanish if he blinked. His broad shoulders were tense, his chiseled face unreadable. He looked… haunted. Possessive. Like a man staring at something that could slip off his hand any second. Did he stay here watching me sleep all night? A shudder of unease crawled dow

  • Damien's Willing Captive    Trapped

    Isabella’s POV This evening was supposed to be simple. I remember the chill in the air as I stood on the sidewalk, hailing a taxi, the city lights blurring around me. I’d spent the morning with a few friends before boarding the flight, laughing, forgetting for a moment how heavy the past had felt. For once, I thought I could breathe again. Then everything changed. As my hand reached for the taxi door, I felt it—a presence behind me. Before I could turn, something sharp pricked my neck. My vision blurred, my legs gave way, and strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into the shadows. I tried to scream, but a gloved hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off the sound. “Don’t fight, and this will be easier for you,” a harsh voice whispered, chilling me to the bone. I fought anyway. I kicked, twisted, tried to break free, but it was like struggling against a brick wall. Every move felt futile, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t let them win. Everything after that was fragment

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