How Does I Thought It Was A Common Possession End?

[TRIGGER WARNING: Reader's Discretion Is Advised... This book contains mature themes, including explicit sexual content, violence, strong language, and dark romantic elements. It is intended for adult audiences (18+) only. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to any of these topics.] "You’re fucking dripping," he muttered, moving in and out of her. "All wet for me." He moved faster, rubbing her clit and she threw her head back. He took his fingers out and she groaned. He ripped her dress and took her already hard pink nipple in his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it. She moaned even more, pushing her chest to his mouth. His hand played with the other exposed nipple and he twisted it, earning another loud moan from her. She wanted to feel him. It's been too fucking long. "Fuck me..." she said, her voice almost inaudible. Rico chuckled, so sinister yet so hot. "Such a needy little whore for me, aren't you?" He inserted two fingers inside her again, deep inside her, curling just right. "Say it. Say you're my whore." Calla didn't care if that made her feel worthless. She was a whore. His whore. "I... I am your whore," she moaned out, trying to bite it back. Rico smirked darkly. He inserted another finger and she bit into his shoulder to muffle her moan. He gripped her throat with the other hand, just enough to remind her who held control. "You like being used like this, don't you?" He growled against her ear.

"From today onwards, I will take every decision of your life. What you will eat, where will you go, when will you speak, what you will wear it will be all as I wish. And if you dare to defy me then till now it must have been crystal clear to you how far I can go to keep my words," his voice unsympathetic and cold, causing a shiver down her spine. Out of fear she was not even able to raise her head and kept her eyes casted down. He lifted her head up with his forefinger, underneath her chin and stared directly into her mesmerizing hazel eyes. "Understood?" Her throat was parched and her mouth was dry. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. The seam of her lips was cracked and pasted with each other and she couldn't find enough courage in herself to say anything using her tongue, so she just nodded and casted down her eyes again. He raised her chin more now with his forefinger and thumb, indicating her to look in his eyes and she did so. "Understood?" He asked again and raised both his eyebrows, warning her. "Yy....ye..ss" she croaked out. Her eyes were widened with fear and hands were fisting the bedsheet. Her cheeks were imprinted with red finger marks. "Good. Now take of your clothes and fulfill your duty" he ordered. She only pleaded him with her eyes. Clearly, she didn't want her wedding night to turn out like this.

Completely frozen and horrified, her watery eyes were staring at that bleeding dead body in front of her. She couldn't just believe he had just killed someone in front of her so brutally, just because she dared to talk to that person and not any person, but his own wife's brother. "Now, you will forever remember…never to get closer to any other man," she heard him whispering those words in her ear. His blood stained hands gripped her waist more firmly which made her finally look at him. "He was your wife's brother. H..he was your family," she stuttered, disgusted by this brutal monster on whose embrace she was captured now. A feral smirk ghosted on his face. "You needed to think about this before getting closer to him," he brought his face closer to her. Her glossy eyes filled with more disgust, hatred and anger for this barbaric animal before her. "You shouldn't have forgotten that…." Sensually grazing his lips against hers, he peered into her watery eyes. "You are my possession," his words made her fists her palms, especially when she felt his hand opening the zip of her gown. He would again taint her by claiming her body as his. "I am your sole possessor, cara mia," he grinned, sadistically before completely undoing her gown's zipper. She just helplessly stood in his embrace. "Now be a good girl and let me have you again…." hotly murmuring that, he captured her mouth in his and freed her from her clothes and she was not capable of doing anything to stop that sinner from committing that sin with her again because she was…..HIS SINFUL POSSESSION……. Why was she committing that sin of letting a married man have his sinful possession over her? Read to find out…

For five years, the entire vampire world knew that Caelan Vale only drank my blood. Not because I was special. Simply because he chose me, and everyone assumed that made me the Vampire Prince’s only blood source. His only exception. Until tonight. The man who never allowed anyone to touch him lowered his head and drank from another woman’s hand. Isolde Voss. Caelan’s real fiancée. “Claire, you didn’t actually think a human could become a Prince's consort, did you?” I stood there without moving. Humans could only ever remain human. I thought I was the exception. In the end, I never even qualified to be one. I placed the blood bond release papers in front of him and told him they were travel documents. Caelan didn’t even lower his eyes. The black fountain pen slid across the page as he signed his name with careless ease, just like everything he had done to me over the past five years. He had no idea that what he was personally letting go of was not just me. Beneath my cloak, I was already carrying his only half-blood heir. Later, everyone searched for the runaway human. But by then, I had already erased my scent. This time, even the high and mighty Vampire Prince would not find me so easily. Once, I was the one begging for his love. Now, it was his turn.

When Asher Terrell's family crumbled into bankruptcy, I stood steadfast by his side. We lived in a dank basement, where I toiled through three jobs to help clear their crushing debts. He bounced back and proposed, promising me a true home. Three years into our marriage, I discovered the deed to our house bore the name of his first love. "This is what I owe her," he confessed. Swallowing my pain, I nodded and pushed forward a photo from back when we were crammed in that basement, with a whole table piled high with debt notices. "You've paid your debt to her with our house," I said. "But what about the debt you owe me?"

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.