Comfortably Numb Pulse Novels & Stories

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

--- In the shadows of betrayal and loss, Diana McCoy rises from the ashes of a forbidden love that once saved her—and ultimately shattered her. Eric McCoy was her sanctuary, her darkest sin, until a bullet stole him away, leaving her with everything he has. Then, Wade McCoy, her lover's son kidnapped thesame day of his funeral. She makes a burning vow: to reclaim him from the people who took him. But vengeance is a treacherous path, and it leads straight to Rafael Goldman—a ruthless enigma who sees the fractured ruin in her soul and offers a devil's bargain drenched in desire. As their worlds collide in a storm of obsession and power, Diana surrenders to a passion that blurs the line between punishment and salvation. Can she wield her revenge without losing herself to the man who might be her greatest enemy... or her ultimate undoing? “Sometimes the devil doesn’t come to destroy you—he comes to finish what love couldn’t.” [Continue if you dare. From here you're on your own...] --- He fucked me like atonement, like penance, like the only god he believed in lived between my thighs. He groaned against my throat and it sent shivers down my spine. I saw his pupils in mine, holding the gaze steady. He cupped my cheek and gave me an aggressive kiss before I broke it, forcing his head to my neck. He kissed my throat, teeth scraping the pulse that was trying to kill me. I laughed softly, ragged and vicious, bit his lip until I tasted blood. That particular finger staggered back to my cunt again and forced its way into my v*gin* while his d*ck was still inside, grinding me. Suddenly his left hand came over my mouth, cupping it firm, blocking my screams....

“Give me your hands,” he ordered, coldly. I froze, watching him loosen his tie as he walked closer. Something about him felt… off. Mean. Distant. My throat went dry, but I gave him my hands anyway. He gripped my wrists—tight enough for my pulse to throb under his fingers. He wrapped the tie around them and pulled, dragging me up the bed like an animal on a leash. My back hit the headboard. Before I could react, he tied the other end of the tie to the frame. Then he reached for the veil on the nightstand. “What are you doing?” I asked, heart racing. He didn’t answer….just placed the veil over my head like I was a doll. “Making sure I don’t see your face and wish it was hers,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. I blinked. “Hers?” He leaned in. His jaw clenched. “Your twin sister,” he said. “I wanted her. Not you.” His words felt like someone yanked the floor right under me. “I should be with her,” he added cruelly. “Loving her. Worshiping her. Not stuck with a knockoff pretending to be my wife.” I couldn’t breathe. My hands fought the tie, but it was useless. I was trapped, veiled and bound. Lucian didn’t want me. He wanted ‘her’ instead. —------------- Losing her clinic was devastating. Facing eviction was worse. But accepting a mysterious nursing job? That was desperation at its finest. What Scarlett Ashford didn’t expect was that her patient would be her terminally ill twin, the same sister she’d cut ties with. And Lucian Montgomery, her sister’s cold billionaire husband, offered her a proposition far beyond medical care. He wanted her to be his surrogate. Scarlett wonders—what twisted melodrama has she gotten herself into?

“And what you tried today,” I winced in pain as he held my nape from behind before turning me around. I peered up at him in fear while he stared down at me with his intimidating eyes. His eyes were thundering. Leaning down further, he made my pulse rise. Being so close to him— a man, no less, I could see the clear spec of blackness inside his dark eyes. They were so raw and so dark and so piercing. “I would suggest you not try it again,” he added, his bottomless brooding eyes burned into mine, “because no matter how hard you are going to try, you are never going to get out of here without my permission. Away from my sight,” he vowed in a menacing tone that had no expression at all. “Don't get your hopes high.” Tears split down my eyes while he studied my face. “You like escaping. Don't you?” He explained to me in a condescending tone. “Let's see how you are going to try now with my eyes on you— all the time." “You can try all you want, but you can never break my spirits!” I looked at him, directly in his eyes without blinking. His eyes were still focussed on my face as he slowly stepped around me. “Do you mean it?” His voice was strangely soft, “Maybe I cannot. But.. ” Adding to his intimidating aura. Shaur. “No.. ” I whispered. “I can break him.” His gaze met mine in an instant. “You seem to have forgotten your own mental capacity of understanding certain situations. Let me refresh it for you.” His eyes seemed to burn holes at me. “I'd rather not get blood on your dress.” WARNING: This book contains strong language, dubious situations, deception issues, manipulations, abduction and dark romance.

[MATURE CONTENT: DARK REVERSE HAREM ROMANCE] A rough hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise when I'm pushed against the fence. A muscular thigh pushes between my legs, and I stare at a red eyed Haeden. "Haeden?" It comes out on a heavy exhale. His pupils dilate, and I squirm against him as he presses even closer. "Fuck," He tangles his fingers into my hair and I cry out in pain. He tilts my head back not once loosening his hold on me. He leans in and forces his tongue down my throat.  He produces a deep groan that vibrates through me. I whimper when he bites my bottom lip. He tilts my head and licks a trail up the length of my neck. "Haeden," I whisper, my voice thick. He finds my pulse and sucks, teeth grazing along my tendons.  "Do you know how much I hate you?" he hisses into my ear, "Yet here I am, going crazy after seeing you dance with Ivy like that." His voice is husky. I gasp when he bites me, the points of his teeth digging into my skin. "We were just dancing," I whisper. He scoffs and presses his knee tighter against me. "You're fucking adorable, but you must be a niave little bitch if you think that didn't affect me, Stone, or Kingston," he growls into my ear. *** Ariella went from prized virgin to psycho pariah in less than a day. Her father, the Pastor of a church, mass murders a group of it’s members. She's the one to catch him red handed, literally.  She becomes an outcast, with a target pinned to her. Making unlikely friends with delinquents, Ariella gives a sacrifice. Psychopathy is hereditary. Stone, Haeden, and Kingston just want to see if it's true.

“And the night we met again,” I whisper, “my wolf recognized you.” Silence. “Recognized me how?” she asks carefully. My chest burns even as my pulse thunders in my ears. “As my mate.” The word falls between us like shattered glass. Avara laughs. “That’s not funny.” “I know.” “You’re my brother.” “I know.” I find myself inching closer… closer. “That’s impossible. This is sick.” “I know,” I say again, voice breaking now. “I fought it. Gods, I fought it. I tried to convince myself my instincts were wrong, that my wolf was broken, that I was losing my mind.” Her hands shake. “Stop.” “I can’t,” I say hoarsely. “Because every second I’m near you, it gets worse. Because my wolf wants to kneel at your feet and tear the world apart to protect you.” Avara stands abruptly, backing away until her spine hits the wall. “You’re lying.” “I wish I were.” …………………………… Fifteen years after vanishing from the Silvermoon pack, Kaeden Vane returns, older, lethal, and right on time at thirty-three, the age decreed by the Moon Goddess for succession, having spent years years amassing forbidden knowledge, mastering dangerous magic, and preparing to destroy his father, the man who murdered his mother in a bid for godhood. His return reunites him with Avara Vane, his seemingly fragile, human adopted sister that Silas, their father, adopted as an ‘act of mercy’. She is a Nyxarel, whose parents were slaughtered by the man she calls father and who has been conveniently placed and subdued by his father, until it is the right time to use her blood to attain immortality. And one touch is all it takes for Kaeden’s wolf to recognize her as his mate, an impossible, unforgivable bond…

I stepped inside the office and sat before the doctor. But my thoughts suddenly drifted. "Mr. Blackwood?" The doctor’s voice pulled me back to the present. "How is she?" The doctor sighed, flipping through Natalie’s chart before meeting my gaze. "She suffered a severe head trauma. We managed to stabilize her, but…" He hesitated. My stomach twisted. "But what?" "She has retrograde amnesia. Right now, her memory is… fragmented. From what we’ve assessed, she doesn’t recall the last five years." Ethan froze. "How do you mean, five years?" "She believes it’s still 2018. In her mind, she’s still your wife." The words punched the air from my lungs. Still my wife. "This kind of memory loss can be temporary or permanent—we can’t say for sure. She may recover bits of it over time, or it may come back all at once." The doctor’s gaze softened. "It’s important, Mr. Blackwood, that no one tries to force her to remember anything. Pushing her could make things worse, even more dangerous." I swallowed hard, my pulse roaring in my ears. Five years of pain, five years of regrets—wiped away. "Can I see her?"I pleaded. The doctor hesitated before nodding. "Go easy on her....And Mr. Blackwood?" "Stay strong." ^^ Five years ago, Natalie Elise Blackwood walked away from her husband, Ethan Blackwood. After discovering his betrayal, she left without a trace. But when a tragic accident erases her memories, she wakes up believing she’s still Ethan’s devoted wife, unaware of the past that tore them apart. Seizing the opportunity to fix his mistakes, Ethan is determined to keep her by his side, even if it means hiding the painful truth. But when the memories return, will Natalie stay...or will history repeat itself?

Zesa Russo commands the boardroom with the same precision and confidence she brings to every aspect of her life. At 28, she’s the fierce CEO of Techya, a company she’s built from the ground up. Driven, unrelenting, and unapologetically bold, she’s never been one to wait for a prince charming to come sweep her off her feet—instead, she’s the force that shapes her own destiny. And her destiny has always involved him. The man who had once eluded her grasp, the one she had silently craved for years. But Zesa isn’t the kind to let love slip through her fingers. No. She's determined to make him hers, no matter what. Slowly, inevitably, she knows he’ll surrender his heart to her—just like everything else she’s ever set her sights on. ____ Levi’s mischievous gaze locks onto mine, daring, seductive, his lips curving into a slow smirk as he steps closer. “Should I stop?” His voice is velvet, deep and teasing, laced with danger. But I don’t flinch. “No,” I breathe, my pulse quickening, every nerve in my body on edge. His smirk deepens, a dark promise in his eyes as his fingers slowly trace the hem of my dress, lifting it with agonizing precision. The whisper of fabric against my skin sends shivers down my spine. His lips—warm, soft, and skilled—graze the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Levi’s hand slips beneath the fabric, fingertips brushing against my desire, teasing, drawing out a soft gasp from me. The heat between us is suffocating, yet intoxicating. “Levi…” My voice trembles as he nips gently at my thigh, his breath hot against my skin. “You’ll be the one begging me to stop,” he murmurs, the promise in his words thick, dripping with need.

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock right here on this table,” he snarled, fangs grazing the frantic pulse in my throat, “and knot you so deep my daughter and every wolf in this pack will smell me dripping out of your ruined little cunt for weeks. Tell me you want that, babygirl. Beg Daddy for it.” I was shaking, slick running down my thighs, clit throbbing so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Yes… please…” His massive hand clamped around my throat, squeezing until stars burst behind my eyes. “Yes what, little human?” “Yes, Daddy,” I choked out, voice breaking. “Ruin me. Breed me. Right fucking now.” --- I never should’ve stepped foot in Ireland for my best friend’s Christmas wedding. Not when I’ve spent months on my knees in the dark, fingers buried in my pussy, moaning her father’s name like a prayer. Alpha Cassian Blackthorne. Ruthless. Feral. Old enough to be my father...twice over. The monster who makes empires kneel and wolves beg, the wolf who could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist… and the only man I want choking me with his belt while he forces every thick inch down my throat. He’s forbidden. He’s depraved. He’s looking at me now under the blood-red Christmas lights like he’s already tasted my surrender. And he has one holiday wish... To hunt me. Break me. Fuck me raw and bloody until I’m addicted to his knot. Until I’m carrying his pup and wearing his bite like a collar. This Christmas, the Alpha isn’t asking permission. He’s taking his naughty little human pet… And I’m already dripping for the day he finally snaps.