Seven Sleepless Nights Novels & Stories

"No… I didn't do anything wrong!" Cold all over, I trembled as I tried to pull away from him, only to realize my feet were trapped by something. Pulling back the blanket, I froze. Heavy iron chains were locked around my ankles, making it nearly impossible to move. Jared's voice turned icy. "I know you won't admit your mistake so easily. So, you'll stay in this room until Melody has the baby. Then, I'll let you out." Three days without food, combined with all the pent-up emotions I had been holding back, a rush of metallic taste surged up my throat as I coughed out a mouthful of blood from my mouth.

"Tell him whatever you think it is best 'cause I won't be showing up. If 'she is asleep' that comes to your mind, say it. Or 'she don't wanna come' it is fine by me, 'she doesn't want to see you' whichever way. I am not just coming." "Okay then." "Thank you as you do so," I plugged my earpiece, then laid back on bed. "Goodnight." **** (No! Whimpering! Darkness! Fire! Tears!) Noo! Not again! I pressed my back against the wall, folded up a leg, then I dug my finger into my hair. This is beyond me mum, dad! I can't handle this all alone. What is the secret behind this nightmare? *** The shadow was moving closer. It was following me all over again. This couldn't be Brad. That was not Brad. So wh

This sensation was not unfamiliar; it had plagued me ever since the untimely demise of Ginni . Since her passing, every night I find myself burdened with the duty of sleep rather than experiencing it as a natural cycle. Despite the passing of six years, this peculiar insomnia occurs only about six to eight times per month, rather than persisting constantly. Strangely, this sensation differs from previous episodes. It seems as though I am not the sole seeker, as even my alpha appears to share the same sentiment. Could it be that he, too, yearns for Ginni's presence?

Seven Years Later... ~Ezinne~ I awoke abruptly, my scream piercing the silence of the night, a familiar terror gripping my heart from the same nightmare that had plagued me for years. There was no one rushing into my room to check on me anymore; my nightly outbursts had become routine, and I had been labelled a witch by those who heard my screams. The worst part was that every detail of the dream would slip from my memory upon waking, leaving me drenched in sweat, and heart racing with an unnameable fear.

She couldn't hurt her mind more about thinking the reasons of this sudden get up. She threw the dress on the couch and laid on the bed with tears of impotence seeping. The remaining night passed in a haze. * The large grey, blank walls stared at him as he sat alone on his arm chair, holding a glass of champagne between hi rigid fingers. He was suffering from insomnia since seven years. Unable to sleep, he simply sat all night, sipping onto alcohol so it might give him peace until the next day he wakes up again and get ready for a new day, putting on his fake mask of toxicity again.

However, Ajax, nestled in the neighboring sleeper bed, was far from finding the same solace. He often struggled with restless nights and bouts of insomnia, but tonight felt particularly challenging. The small, cramped bed was uncomfortable, and the constant rumble of the train seemed to amplify every thought swirling in his mind. Gwyneth's earlier words echoed in his ears, replaying her concerns and reflections like a broken record.

The problem with her grandmother's health made her parents look stressed, especially when they discovered that Anna's health was starting to decline. -- Richard, lay down on his king-size bed. Her topless body looks sexy, with perfectly formed abdominal muscles. Richard stared blankly at the ceiling of his room. Richard glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand that was right next to his bed. It was 11 p.m., but he couldn't fall asleep. Richard knew he wouldn't sleep again tonight, like the previous few nights. Richard does have Insomnia, but the Insomnia he suffers from doesn't always happen. But recently, the Insomnia he suffered has hit him again.

I sat up slowly and reached for the water on the nightstand, but the glass was empty. I turned my head and froze when I saw Adam on the floor, doing push ups like a completely unwell person. His shirt was off, his back flexing with each movement, his hair falling over his forehead as he kept going like sleep was a rumour he refused to believe in. I grabbed my phone and checked the time, “Adam.” He kept moving, “what?” “It’s almost seven in the morning.” “I know.” “You haven’t slept a wink since last night.” He stopped, sat back on his heels, and dragged one hand through his hair, “I know. I have insomnia.”

The roses explode in the square with petals raining like blood, and I come with him to squirt so hard it splashes his chest while piss and cream mix in a filthy flood that soaks us both and drips down the glass for the village to see. He stays buried deep with his cock twitching and tail still in my mouth, and he holds me with arms trembling while his forehead presses to mine. “Night six,” he pants in a thick voice. “One more, and you’re mine—body, soul, every filthy inch. Let them watch their saint become my eternal whore.” Night Seven Dawn creeps through the curtains in a soft and golden light while my brother’s laughter echoes from downstairs strong, alive, and whole. The pact ends. Seven

The apartment felt like it was holding its breath. Severino was gone before the first hint of gray light touched the Parisian rooftops, leaving behind nothing but the scent of salt and the frantic, lingering heat of his skin. I stood in the shower for twenty minutes, the water scalding, trying to scrub the feeling of being "owned" off my body. But Seven’s marks weren’t just on the surface; they were etched into my marrow.