Breathing Styles Ideas Novels & Stories

“Your wife, Ivara, is finally back in your life, Mr. Elzaek, so why are you still running after me?” Eizlina shouted at that man, whom she had loved more than her own self. His infuriated gaze glowered at her shimmering eyes. “Wait a minute….” She bitterly chuckled, while stepping closer to him. “Is it because you want to keep me in your life as your mistress now?” his fists curled at her words. “So that you can force me to continue to open my legs for you, isn't it, Theron Elzaek?” She screamed at him. His jaw clenched, hearing her. “Fine, I will continue to open my legs for you, but now the only difference would be….” She got so close to him that their bodies grazed. “I will open them not just only for you but any man, who would……” he shut her up by aggressively grabbing a fist of her hair. Eizlina hissed in pain. Her body slammed against his. “The only man, who is allowed to touch, embrace and love you…..” he pushed his face closer to hers. “Is me, Eizlina Theron Elzaek….” husking those words, he smashed his mouth against hers. “Only me…Eizlin,” that name from his mouth shattered her heart. **************** Eizlina found her love in Theron, a widower, who forcefully married her just to satiate his vicious vengeance against her closed ones, but her love became a sin when his love and his deceased wife, Ivara, came back in their lives and claimed back everything, which had always been rightfully hers, including Theron and his love. So what would Eizlina do when she found out, the man, whom she had loved unconditionally and whose child was breathing inside her, had never considered her more than just the VEIL OF HIS FIRST LOVE? *DARK-ROMANCE*

Werewolf/Human Romance, 18+ Thessara, the former great Luna of the Bloodclaw Pack, is killed by those she cared for most. But when she wakes again, it is weakly in the form of Claire, a timid human nurse, wife of a genius and a cold billionaire neurosurgeon, Dr. Kieran Hale. Stolen of all her magic and lupine powers by the moon goddess Thessara must live as Claire, between the responsibilities of a human wife, drangonwolf reborn and the abiding hunger she can no longer suppress. Kieran, a cold and merciless hunter for monsters like her kind, awakens hunger to the human body she now possesses. Trapped between two fates, Thessara must discover why the Moon Goddess sentenced her to this new life. But can she endure this passion that demands total exploration of Claire’s boisterous emotions, forbidden desires and the hunger her husband evokes. "Hmmm!" she moans, but it was more from pleasure than pain. "Oh, I might have forgotten to mention, lupine." I spank her again, just as hard. "We humans like to give our females the right incentive to obey." I give her a few sharp spanks on her upper thighs. "Just. Like. This." I can smell her arousal getting stronger again by the second. And her heartbeat faster. She clearly likes what I’m doing. "I’ll stop if you don't like it." I tease her before I smack her ass again for good measure. "Don't stop Dr Kieran… please." She says breathing hard. I rewarded her with a few strokes between the legs again. “I want to hear you beg Thessara.” I spank her again. "Please—oh please kieran—" I pushed a finger between her thighs, into her core, and stroke. "Like this?" I asked. She wriggles and pushes her hips backwards to meet my fingers. “Yes…”

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I f***. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my p**** ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your p**** soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my c*** or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

Love, Happy Endings, Soulmates, these are the things we want and need in life, we want to get them, but it's easier said than done. Certain factors need to be considered. Relationships and Love need few unmaterialistic things, but sadly, Caden Ian Manchester and Fiona Guinevere Kings do not know these. Weighed with traumas and scars, they hid their true self from each other, but the past never stays hidden, and it gets revealed in the worst way possible. Fiona Kings looks like a real life Barbie, but she sure as hell doesn't live in a fairytale, if it's a fairytale, it's a twisted one, a very twisted fairytale. Her life has being chaotic, from a family that don't care about her, to an abusive and psychotic boyfriend. She met him, Caden Manchester, it seem like she's drawn to the bad boys, Aren't we all?. Caden Manchester is a walking trauma, a breathing disaster, a living catastrophe, an addictive poison. She knows she should run, everyone tells her to run, but once Love gets into the equation, leaving seems unlikely. Caden Manchester is an orphan, a drug addict, a result of a broken home. An Artist who has definitely lost his muse. He meets her, Fiona Kings. She seems like his saving grace, his last and final shot at redemption, all he has to do is let her get tangled in his web of pain, death and painful secrets. He's no good for her, he's aware of this,  She's too angelic, but like a moth drawn to flame, he's drawn to her, to light. She's his Vanilla, His butterfly whose wings he breaks, rendering her broken. He breaks her, shatters her, destroys her, but she didn't leave. He tries to push her away, but, she stuck with him.

I was born to shine. But the fate had others plans for me. The moment my feet left the edge, the world fell silent. There was only wind. And peace. For one fragile heartbeat, I was free. Like a bird. Then something slammed into me from behind. Arms. Hard. Unforgiving. The impact hurled me sideways instead of down. Wood splintered. Something inside me cracked. Darkness rushed in and I welcomed it. … “Open. Your. Eyes.” The voice was quiet, slow, deliberate. It forced its way through bone and blood. An Alpha command. Pain detonated through me as air tore back into my lungs. My body convulsed against my will. I tried to sink back into the quiet—to finish what I had started. “You were NEVER given permission to die.” Power wrapped around the words like chains. My eyes snapped open. We were beyond the pack’s borders. The air felt colder. Wilder. Untouched by law or duty. For one second, I had belonged to nothing. And he had dragged me back. He loomed above me, fury carved into every sharp angle of his face. His breathing was controlled, his posture dominant - absolute. If anyone were watching from the cliffs, they would see an Alpha asserting ownership. His jaw tightened, irritated at being forced to deal with something that should have already been resolved. I had complicated his plans. “Drink.” His wrist pressed my mouth. The metallic scent hit first. I tried to clamp my lips shut. But Alpha commands do not ask. They take. My mouth opened against my will and his blood burned down my throat, spreading heat through my chest. A cruel gift. He would not even grant me the mercy of dying on my own terms. And I understood - even my death did not belong to me.

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

[WWARNING: MATURE CONTENT] "I... I'm not sure what I'm asking for," Serena admitted. "But I know I want you. Even if it scares me to death." Her voice trembled slightly. His hand covered hers, pressing it more firmly against his hardened length. "Tell me to stop. Tell me now, or I won't be able to hold back." his tone was both a challenge and a plea. Serena swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest at the electric tension between them. "I don't want you to stop," she breathed, barely recognizing her own voice. His eyes darkened even more. So much so that the ambers in them completely disappeared. He gnashed his teeth so hard as he fought for control. Serena could feel the tension radiating off him in waves like a spring ready to snap. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he growled roughly. She bit her lip, both thrilled and intimidated by the raw need in his voice. Her fingers trailed along the hard line of his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there. "Show me," she challenged. His breathing grew even more ragged. Serena could see the struggle on his face - the battle between his overwhelming desire and his need to protect her from his own intensity. "I could hurt you," he warned again. "I'm not sure I can ever be gentle with you. I’m rough. My kind of sex is brutal." --------- Serena's life hit rock bottom when she caught her husband cheating on her with her best friend. She decided to lose herself in a bar, hoping to wash away her pain. However, life has this funny way of messing up plans – she ended up in a one-night stand that only added more trouble to her already chaotic reality.

I was the most spoiled little princess in the shifter world, because I had four powerful daddies. Darius is the head of the Dragon clan, and the King who rules over the entire shifter world. The other three are the heads of the Lion clan, the Serpent clan, and the Eagle clan. Everyone fears their power. My mother was their childhood sweetheart. When she was killed by rogue wolves, they found me still barely breathing inside her, and saved my life. The four of them spoiled me rotten. Whatever I looked at twice, it would be sitting in front of me by the next morning. Every girl in the shifter world envied me. Until the year I turned sixteen, when Vivian came back. She was the daughter of their first love. From that day on, my four daddies were completely different. Vivian cried to Daddy Darius and said I'd pushed her down the stairs. Without a single question, he threw me in a cell, bound my wrists in silver chains, and made me kneel on broken silver shards for seven straight days. Then she went to Daddy Orion and said I'd stolen the necklace her mother left her. So Daddy Orion melted down the only ring my mother ever left me and had it remade into a necklace for her. The last time, Vivian stabbed herself and cried that I'd tried to kill her. Daddy Rex didn't even ask. He just sentenced me to four years in the silver prison. The silver prison holds the worst criminals in the shifter world. The guards whipped me with silver every day, forced me to wash everyone's clothes, and some weeks I went days without a bite of food. Today, when my door got kicked open again, I was huddled in the corner shaking. I hadn't eaten in two days. Then I heard the Moon Goddess's gentle voice. “Child, do you want to leave here and go back to your mother?”