A Predator's Obsession Novels & Stories

I’m no longer the captain of a syndicate or the heir to a blood-stained throne; I’m just a man driven by a singular, primal obsession. It’s a battle of wills as I sink into his heat and my cock throbs from how incredible it feels. The mattress shakes around us, the heavy frame of the Hudson Valley estate groaning under the weight of a collision that’s been building since I first saw him through a lens at Club Ombra. Our throaty, desperate noises are the only sounds in the room, cutting through the silence of the woods outside. We are sweating, desperate, and buzzing from the chemical warfare we’ve inflicted on each other’s systems.

“Tonight you learn that control is an illusion. And your obsession will not reach him.” The first move had already been made not with a blade, but with five years of planning, patience, and will. The collision of bloodlines and survival instincts had begun. And in the brief silence before everything erupted, every person in that room two predators, one mother, one child felt the full weight of what was coming.

You are going to me mine and I can fuck you whenever and wherever I want. Listening to that I looked up and I wasn't seeing that old Abhi there. he was behaving like a monster and I was getting afraid of him then. A shiver ran through my boss hearing to that. I never imagined he would say anything like that. '''Why??? What happened??? Why are you so shocked??? Oh come on!!! it will be a pleasure for you too.. Come on. and this cold weather demands this.. Come on. baby its our honeymoon and I am not gonna let you sleep without satisfying me tonight.''''

I'd tried to act tough and pretend I wasn't shitting in my pants, but I was, as I grew older, I realize that being a predator comes with a certain satisfaction. When you're lurking in the darkness, awaiting your prey you feel powerful, you feel satisfied when they flinch or pale when they see you, how they walk faster when they hear your footsteps. I've grown to love being a predator, which explains why I'm comfortable waiting in this darkness for him. I've made sure to disconnect his line, so he can't have access to any light when he gets here. It's been almost two hours since I arrived here and no sign of him, but that's okay. I can wait, I waited fifteen years, what's a few hours?

The torn folder drops to the gravel and is forgotten between us. “No other women. Done.” He moves nearer, not touching yet, but closing the small gap until the world narrows to his chest and my breath. His eyes harden; there is a territorial heat there I recognize now as a language. “You want obsession?” he murmurs. “I’ll give them a performance they’ll never forget.” A slow, predatory smile lifts one side of his mouth.

Damn, I didn't ask to play! I am stashed behind the kitchen curtains, and I watch the show, and I like what I see. A beautiful woman that beauty has not left by the side of the road. She is wearing a yellow dress. Excess of coquetry? Need to be seen and admired over and over again? It seems like it is working just fine. I see her. She reminds me of femininity, and chills run through down my spine without being able to refrain them. They go too fast for me, just like my thoughts. I find it hard to focus on anything other than this woman. I do not know her. She doesn't see me from the top of the third floor, and yet I spy on her like a teenager would observe a classmate from the corner of his

I didn't mean to get this distracted , it just happened unknowingly . " I wasn't ogling . I was observing . " I state . I was definitely ogling . Why are wolves so horny and impulsive ? And why do I have to be part of that category now ? It's not that I don't like it , it's just that it's a strange feeling for me . One that I'd rather avoid .

Not intending to awaken the sleeping dragon that resided in Ansel’s calm emotion, as fast as possible Xander got lost of his boss’ eyes in order to hunt down Qeiza. “Damn! I should have been more observant earlier,” Xander was foul-mouthed himself.

" Why are you so stubborn?" He lowered his head and wanted to look into her downcast gaze, but she didn't raise her head. She was crying and freeing her hair from his grip. "You're not afraid of me." He moved closer to her, his lips touching Tashfa's half-open lips. He didn't move back. "I am afraid ..." She said in a trembling voice. "But I see nothing but rebellion in your big eyes. I want to see the fear in your eyes. I want to see you growl." His eyes were starting to change color. It had now turned dark red. Screams started coming out of Tashfa's lips.

Her last high. But when she returns to his apartment for the third time, the predator finds herself prey. Cassiel knew. He always knew. And he liked it. From the glow of hidden cameras, he’s been watching her, learning her patterns, memorizing her gasps. What begins as a stalking fantasy spirals into a fever dream of sex, power, and mutual destruction—where knives aren’t the most dangerous thing between them. He’s not afraid of her madness. He wants to drag it out, drink from it, fuck it raw.