Captive Romance Novels & Stories

He seemed to signal the warriors and I could see them close in one me. “Fine.” If he couldn’t gather the balls to do it, I’ll do it myself. I sucked in a deep breath to calm myself. “I, Emma Woods, reject you, Alpha Anthony, as my mate,” “Emma,” His gaze softened as he began to walk towards me. “Let’s talk about this.” “Okay.” I agreed with a ewsigbe sigh. "Maybe we can come to some kind of compromise." I said smoothly moving fast toward the exit I had discovered.

He was a caged beast, forced to endure the indignity of his confinement, his formidable power rendered useless by the whims of his new master. Despite their past animosity, despite the fact that he had been her captor, her unwilling companion on a perilous journey, Violet felt a pang of something akin to sympathy, a recognition of shared oppression. They were both pawns in Aurora’s ruthless game, both trapped within the opulent prison of the Romano estate.

So I told her father I wanted to marry her and promised to compensate him dearly with money and properties , at first I thought he will refused because of my bad reputation and the rumors about me nor that he has any power to tell me not to marry his daughter, I just don’t want to forcefully marry his daughter without his consent, but to my greatest surprise, he agreed, I guess because of the money and property I promised to give him after the marriage, I compensated him after the marriage, I gave me a contract worth of 200 million dollars, and also gave him a share of my company. I looked at the woman in my hands and smiled, she was sleeping so soundly, when I looked at her lips, I couldn’

The way his hands wandered every inch of my body. Fuck. I was getting wet. He was only a stranger. They had called him Alpha Kai but he was crippled, and I didn't understand why he would need someone like me. Maybe, I would be his whore and never his mate, I presumed. He slipped the rest of my sleeves away from my hands, cupping my breasts in his hands. My breaths hitched. I could scarcely breathe, and he was the reason to my lack of breath. "I've waited so much for you," he leaned in to plant kisses on my breasts.

Gentle. “Hate me all you want, if it means you get to hold him in your arms.” That made my chest tighten. Because this was Dante Romano. The man feared by entire cities. The man who killed with a flick of his fingers and slept with a gun under his pillow. And now? He was kissing my forehead like I was the most fragile thing he’d ever touched. “I don’t hate you,” I whispered, breathless. “I just want him out.” He chuckled then. A low, rough sound that shook his shoulders. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

And I despised how he kept staring at me as if I were a bird out of its cage for the first time. Looking at it, Maybe I was. I was practically imprisoned here for a week! I stole a glance at the man in front of me again. To be called Master, he is vividly the owner of this place. What would a man like him want with a girl like me? What do I need to do for this man? Why does he want me? And to have me kidnapped? I watched as the 'Master' raised his hand, and immediately two people came rushing into the room, dressed in nice tuxedos, a man and a woman.

#Romance #Thrilling #Suspense #Action #Dramas This is going to be the best of best so don't miss any part. @Authoress Ricky Be expecting this next week readers. I love you all💓💓 Here is a blurb about the book

"Focus on the mainframe. Leave the dead where they belong." Before I could counter his deflection, he pulled me flush against his body, his mouth crashing into mine with a fierce desperation that completely drowned out the legal threats and the bloody warnings of the ballroom. The encounter was a chaotic storm of mutual addiction and burning defiance, a high-stakes romance where the power dynamic was entirely tangled between legal marriage and forced captivity. We burned each other alive in the dark, using the physical intensity of our bodies to escape the ghosts that were actively scratching at our windows.

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Everything else was decoration. I had already read through all of the new books Nala had bought me. Every single one. Earlier that afternoon I had finished a romance novel with a Stockholm syndrome trope that had left a strange, sour taste in my mouth. The heroine had fallen for her captor in a slow, inevitable spiral that the author framed as destiny. It had felt like a fairytale version of the nightmare I was currently living. Clean. Romantic. Resolved by the final chapter with declarations and soft lighting. Reality did not work like that.