Prisoner Of My Desire Audiobook Novels & Stories

Waking up to the sound of his voice is still, after everything, the most beautiful and most maddening thing in my life. All I have ever wanted all I will ever want is him. By my side. Within my reach. Mine. I know I'm not the husband he might have dreamed of, back before he knew what it meant to belong to someone like me. Hell, I don't even deserve him. But that's the nature of desire, isn't it? We crave the things we have no right to. And he — he is the most dangerous sin I've ever known, one I'll gladly drown in for the rest of my life, one that consumes me and reshapes me into something I'm not sure even I recognize anymore.

A strong hand rested on my shoulder and pulled me back. “Get a grip of yourself, my friend,” the slightly accented voice of Mule rang in my head. It sounded like a tuning fork to my ears at that moment. I found myself standing right in front of the cage with my lips apart, the hands of the stripper were on my cheeks and Mule was standing next to me. I closed my lips and hissed. I ran the back of my hand across my mouth because my lips felt wet. I felt dazed. The stripper went on with her show like I wasn’t there.

"Why Am I asking that? Come to think of it..." "I'm not even a good husband. It seems like I always break the people I love, because of my selfishness. It hurts, Fiona. Every single day, I feel like I am a villain, for causing my son so much pain." His voice cracks. "And now, even I have started to believe that you're right. Maybe one day, I'll realize I deserve to suffer. You are right that you deserve better than a kind of man like me." He took a shaky breath before putting Fiona's picture back where it was before.

All I heard was my own ragged breathing and the terrible, beautiful crescendo building inside me. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to beg for more. And I didn’t know which voice in my head was mine anymore. My other hand gripped the arm of the sofa so tightly, I was afraid I’ll tear the upholstery as I strained against the pleasure. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. Couldn’t stop grinding against the rhythm he set with that damned chess piece. Whimpers. Moans. And soft cried filled the library. The books witnessed my wanton desire and my shame.

A young man at the counter had just collected his coffee. “Thank you,” he said to the barista. Calm voice. Deep. Effortless. He sat down, headphones on, laptop open, completely focused. Nora leaned closer to Mary. “Why would someone be handsome and hot at the same time?” “Hot?” Mary frowned. “Who?” “Him.” Nora tilted her head slightly. Mary followed her gaze, then scoffed. “Nora… didn’t you just say your love life is sinking?” “And?” “And now you’ve already found your next problem.”

He reared over me and laughed, "You regret your desire now, sweetheart? Well, 'it's a pity, it's too late for regret because you now belong to me to do as I want." Even without a gag in my mouth, I wouldn't have begged him. My pride won't allow me to. I closed my eyes as his fingers probed me, delving inside me, exploring. His hand came down flat on my belly, holding me still and silent even as his finger slid inside me, stretching me, working me. I felt my flesh become damp and soft because my body recognized him and wanted him, even though I wanted to weep with the pain of what he was doing to me.

Through the darkness, she was able to see the door of the cell she was in opened suddenly and something or maybe someone was pushed inside and the door was locked back. When she turned to her side, she could feel the presence of a person beside her. Whoever it was, breathed heavily. "Who are you?" Desire asked wearily. She got no answer in response. She gave up hope and sat back on the floor. A few minutes later, she could hear whimpering and she deduced that the person was crying and also was a girl. "I've been here for two days without food or water. My only offense was misplacing the ingredients for the Master's breakfast. I guess we slaves means nothing to them." Desire said, trying to b

Has anyone hurt you in any way? He sighed theatrically as he did. — I suffer princess because I find myself hostage to my desires, and the woman I married, who awakens in me the unbearable desire to want to be inside her all the time. And if such a vision of her is leaving me with such obscene thoughts, I fear that with other men it will be no different. — What a tragedy. — I answered with irony. He smiled, that smile that disarms anyone. And suddenly I found myself hostage to his gaze, which dominated me, I felt his hand rising through the bare skin of my back, and his lips approached mine, but this time I did not let him escape, nor play with my desires as I always did.

am I any prisoner? I felt some pair of hands hugging my waist I turned to see it's that weird guy what's his name Aurthur I wanna name him monkey I tried to free his hands but he said "shh don't forget what I can do" why he is blackmailing me I'm hating myself because I belongs to my prince only not to anyone he asked "do you wanna go out" I nodded my head he opened the lock of those doors and lifted me I tried to get down he said "untill I'm here no need to walk I can carry you my kitten"

I couldn’t escape. Footsteps echoed in the prison I was in. My entire body went still. I stopped breathing. My ears strained for every sound, every shift, trying to prepare myself for something I couldn’t see. “Please,” I begged, voice cracking. Every inch of me praying it was someone coming to save me, “I don’t know what you want with me, but please… just let me go.” The footsteps stop. “I’m not who you think I am. Please—” “She’s pathetic,” a woman said, close enough that I could feel her breath. “I don’t understand how it took you this long.”