Every Breath She Takes Novels & Stories

He turned looking at the girl and he could hear her taking deep breaths. “Ohhh… oh… No I do not have my phone and I have severe claustrophobia. I think… I’m not able to breathe.” The girl took deep breaths patting her chest and Ethan instantly walked closer to the girl patting her back.

"But...I...can...can't..." My finger presses against her lips "Don't say a word. Just breathe," I say calmly. "Slowly, take one breath at a time." She shakes her head, her eyes wide with fear and brimming with tears. "I can't." I cup the back of her neck. "Fuck, heiress, you need to breathe." "But I can't," her words are forced and desperate. I run my fingers through my hair as my frustration ranks up. Her labored, strangled breaths fill the thick, tight space and I can't do anything to it.

she teases. It happens in the blink of an eye. Whitney drops the bottle and we hear Stella coughing violently, gasping and wheezing, trying to take in a breath. "Oh my God, Stella," the fear in her voice is nothing like I've ever heard before. The rest of us look to be on the edge of a freak out, when calm as she ever is, Blaze gets up from her position on the couch, walks over, picks Stella up and walks back over to the couch we were sitting on. Stella is trying to breathe, we can all hear it, the gasp for breath is the scariest sound I've ever heard in my life. Her little throat muscles are working hard as her chest pumps up and down in small little pants, trying desperately to take in air

"That's it. Breathe with me." She inhaled slowly. "In..." My chest fought against me. "I... can't..." "You can." She reached for my trembling hands and gently wrapped them around hers. "Feel my hands." I barely managed a nod. "Good. Now breathe with me." She took another slow breath. "In... two... three..." I tried to copy her. The air caught in my throat before finally reaching my lungs. "That's it," she encouraged. "Now breathe out. Two... three... four..."

“Don’t listen to him. He’ll smother you with his need. Focus on me. Breathe with me.” She gasped, her body convulsing, her nails scraping bloody lines into the floor. My grip tightened. “I said breathe.” My voice dropped lower, each word carrying weight. “In. Out. Match me.” I exaggerated a breath, slow, deep, filling my chest, then releasing it steadily. Her trembling lips tried to follow, shaky, broken, but each time she faltered I repeated it, relentless, until the ragged edge of her gasps began to sync faintly with mine.

The sound of our cries fills the air, colliding, entwining, her body convulsing around mine in time with my shattering release. We collapse against each other in the aftermath, our cries fading into ragged gasps. She pants like a woman who has just sprinted a marathon, chest heaving, body quaking. God, the sound of it—the fragile, blissful tremor of her breath—makes me want to devour her all over again.

When I release the back of her hand, she leaves it but doesn’t move a muscle. “Breathe,” I say and gently brush stray strands of hair off her face. “You can fight all you want with your words, but your body will betray you every single time. It’s the way you sucked in your breath just now—” I trace my thumb over her chest bone. She’s so delicate. Oh, how easily she would break. “It’s the way your heart is pounding so hard I can see it under your skin right here.”

she breathes shakily, her legs already trembling like crazy. I place my hands steady on her hips as she breathes through it. "Okay?" I whisper. She nods, already panting. "More." So I give her more. Slow, steady, and deep. And she takes it like a good girl, her head falling back as her body constricts around me. "Rhy—that feels so good,” she gasps. "Look at me," I murmur, brushing her hair away from her face. She barely manages to open her glassy blue eyes, her grip tightening on me.

“You know how to use this?” She nodded weakly. “Good girl. One deep breath. Right now.” She pressed the mouthpiece between her lips. I steadied it, my other hand rubbing soft circles on her back. She inhaled sharply, coughed, then tried again. “That’s it,” I murmured. “One more. You’re okay.” Her chest expanded, held, then loosened. The rasp began to ease. Slowly, the color crept back into her cheeks. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my own breath until I let it out, shaky, ragged.

She stops breathing when I add a bit of pressure. "It's okay, please kill me," she moans.