If You Come Softly Audiobook Novels & Stories

He was looking at me intently too. How in the world would Alpha Kayden have spoken so softly? This was just totally unbelievable! If someone else had told me about this, I would never have believed it but no! I just heard that incredibly soft voice from him with my very own ears or did my ears malfunction and transform his harsh voice into a soft one before getting to my brain? I heard him clear his throat slightly as I looked back to the floor. "Mantha, speak up" his voice came, this time impatient and quite harsh and I breathed out in relief.

The softness of his voice? Damn! This is not good.

“Soft. Chubby.” I blinked, stunned.

I laid on my side, placing my hand beneath my head for support while I looked at him. His lips are so soft that I felt like touching them. Slowly, I moved my fingers toward his lips. “It’s softer than it looks,” I said in a soft voice. Then my hand moved toward his cheeks—damn, so, so soft. Why is he so soft?? Men are usually not like this, but why is he?? I soon shook my head. Shit, I'm thinking too much. I've never felt like this for a man, then why am I having these different feelings that I can't explain toward Perin? My heart was beating faster.

"Show me. Show me who you are when you're not being perfect. When you're not trying to prove anything. Just you." He's quiet for a long moment. Then he pulls away. Goes back to the chair. Picks up the book again. "Sit," he says. I sit. He opens the book. Finds a page. Starts reading. His voice changes. Softens. Like the words mean something. Like they're important. It's poetry. Old. Beautiful. About wolves and moonlight and bonds that transcend death. I close my eyes. Let his voice wash over me. Let myself just feel.

With a final tap, a soft hum whispered through the room—the sound of bulletproof panels sliding into place behind the bookshelves, barely seen but very much present. “Ah, the sweet serenade of carbon fiber composites,” Tom thought wryly, “Music to my ears and a real party pooper for stupid bullets.” He glanced around, noting the position of each henchman with the same ease as if he were mentally bookmarking their profiles on MafiaMatch.com. “Swipe left, swipe right—nope, not a single dateable quality unless you’re into guys who communicate in grunts.” “Are we done with this circus, Tomas?” Grossman interrupted him, trying to reclaim the stage as his voice cut through the tension.

he ordered, his voice as smooth as silk, yet firm enough to allow no argument. The driver nodded, the engine purred to life, and the vehicle eased forward. I swallowed, staring out the tinted windows at the convoy of cars following closely behind. My head was spinning, my heart racing with questions I didn’t dare voice. What changed? What had softened him in the last few minutes? I barely had time to process it before his deep voice broke the silence once more. “Come here.” His words were soft, but there was no mistaking the command laced within them.

“Stay.” “What?” “I want to fall asleep like this.” “I can't free bleed all night on you.” “Who says you can't?” “You’re insane. Let me go.” “Nope. Stay put.” His voice is so casual, but there’s something underneath it. A softness that I feel more than hear. And when he tugs me gently down to lie flat against him, I go. No resistance. My head finds the crook of his shoulder, and his arms come around me like muscle memory.

Prologue. "Lady Marina?" a soft voice echoed from a distant room. Hmmm... A soft feminine voice echoed in my ears, it was truly lovely and soft like clouds. The voice was like a lullaby because instead of waking me up, it makes my eyelids heavier than ever.