Gentle And Lowly Audiobook Novels & Stories

He looked like a fallen god who had just crawled out of a furnace. "You’re staring again, Ace," he rasped. His voice was a low, rough growl that vibrated across the open room. His dark eyes were fixed on me, tracking the way my throat moved when I swallowed, his gaze heavy and hungry. "The audit is officially over. You can stop looking for the damage now. We made it out."

ISABELLE His hand came up slowly, rested against my belly, fingers spread wide, palm warm, thumb moving in the smallest circle. He didn’t move it once he started speaking. “Hi, love.” His voice was rough. Quiet. Like he was afraid of being too loud for the moment. “Daddy’s here. Sorry it took so long for me to introduce myself.” He paused, swallowing hard. “Hearing your heartbeat was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It gave me so much strength. I honestly can’t wait to meet you.” Another pause. “And you have nothing to worry about. You’ve got the best mommy in the world.” His hand pressed slightly, just barely. “You both mean everything to me. I promise to always be by your side.” H

His hands were rough, callused, but his touch was feather-light. I am not Barzil, **his voice whispered in my mind. I do not break things. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Everyone else has a rank. A title." I am Guller, **he answered. He began to massage the salve into my bruise. Circles. Rhythmic. Hypnotic. I am the Silence between the storms. "You're the Mute." Words are heavy, **Guller projected. He moved to my other arm, finding a bruise I hadn't even realized was there. I choose not to carry them.

Two seconds. "Fine." 'That's it?' Now I was the one thrown off. He walked over. Calm, steady—but the air tightened anyway. Only a dim night-light. He lay down. Cool damp skin brushed my face. My heartbeat stumbled. I wrapped my arms around his waist. His entire body locked. He lowered his head, voice rough. "Do you want me to... help you?" Before finishing, he opened the drawer like muscle memory. I already knew. Yep. A finger cot.

He doesn't look angry, or even particularly disgusted—which makes it so much worse. His voice comes out low, smooth, and perfectly steady, each word dripping with a calm curiosity that shatters whatever dignity I have left. "This dildo is yours, right?"

Like I was someone worth trusting. God. I swallowed the knot in my throat and gently slid out from under her arm. She murmured something incoherent, then rolled over, clutching the sheet like she felt the shift even in sleep. My thumb hovered over the screen. I didn’t want to answer. But I did. “Hello?” There was a beat of silence. Then— “Mason?” Audrey’s voice came through, barely a whisper. She sounded small. Weak. Fragile in a way that didn’t feel like her.

"Now you can give it to Isabella, and you can be a full-time housewife." "I'll take care of you," he said, reaching out to touch my face. "Isn't this the life you've always wanted?" I nodded slowly, then walked silently to my computer and opened a new document. Ethan thought I was taking his advice, writing my resignation letter. He nodded, satisfied, and went back to the kitchen to finish his soup. "Emma says she loves my soup the most," his cheerful voice drifted from the kitchen. "She calls me Daddy Ethan. Having a daughter isn't so bad, right?"

A low, thunderous growl vibrated through his chest as he spoke. “No one can ever hurt you, little fawn.” That voice, deep, inhumane, and powerful, was undoubtedly terrifying. It was the voice of a creature built to rip through armies. Yet it washed over me like warmth, raising goosebumps along my arms as a relief flooded every corner of me. I melted against him, burying myself in the thick fur of his chest, finally feeling at peace. Cassian lowered his enormous snout, brushing it against the top of my head with tenderness. His breath hitched, unsteady, and I felt a tremor in his hold as he growled, his voice laced with guilt and self-loathing.

ALLISON His voice was soft and gentle, almost caressing in its tenderness. It was nothing like the clipped, business-like tone he'd used when speaking to the Royal earlier. No, this was different, it almost sounded like he was speaking to a cherished lover. My brows arched skeptically at that observation. It wasn't just his voice that had softened; the look on his usually stoic face was a reflection of pure, unguarded longing. It was the kind of passionate, yearning look I imagined romance novels spent entire chapters describing.

“What do you suggest?” “Bring him to me.” “What’s this? What’s going on? Who is that?” Though the voice was disguised, I knew who it was. The man who had relaxed as if he were the one playing us for the last few hours looked spooked. “Uncle Gabe, don’t worry; I’ll make him pay for Aunt Silla.” Is this really the little angel I met not that long ago? Why did her voice sound like a platoon sergeant giving orders to his troops? “Lorde, your answer.” Does anything get a rise out of this guy?