An Illicit Obsession Novels & Stories

“She said she isn’t interested, big A. So let the girl be and just find your fun somewhere else.” A firm voice said from behind us, making me flinch because again, even though it was so sweet and soft. It was sickening at the same time, and my stomach clenched. Not even being raped made me feel like this. “OH, the Arabic bitch is here, what? Are you interested in this little chocolate morsel in here now? I thought you don’t swing that way besides you have that trans bitch who you always jump on her dick each night, so why now the sudden interest, Muslim bitch?!”

I walked to the casket of both my mother and Caramel, letting out all the words that I needed to let out. "Don't worry, everything will be fine." Someone said, patting my back from behind. I didn't bother to further know who the person was when I looked at the person but only nodded and moved away, returning to my seat. Justin, how could you?! I shook my head, still finding it difficult to believe that Justin could murder my loved ones just so he could have me. What sort of stupid obsession was this? Why couldn't he just let me be and let's go our separate ways?

"I also began experiencing all these dark urges. I didn't want to get involved with anyone but I began to have sexual cravings. I was able to resist them for a while but then they overwhelmed me. They still do but now I don't have the strength to act on them." I noticed as she spoke her left eyelid was blinking slightly slower than her right. There was also a slurring of her words but I didn't know if that was from the tumor or possibly from medication. "Maybe I was feeling lonely. Maybe it was the fact that you treated me decently in spite of my appearance. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it was nothing. Whatever it was, when I caught you che

He licked the corner of his lips and moaned. "She tastes incredible," he pushed as he slid a finger into her. “ Fuck, and very tight.” My fists clenched. "I said enough." He stood slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You okay, man?" No. I wasn't okay. Because this hadn't worked. This hadn't made me want her less. It had made everything worse. I wanted to throw him out instantly and have Aria pinned against the wall. Have her reminded of who exactly she belonged to. But I couldn't. Because that would mean admitting the truth. That I was obsessed with her. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

He was such a complex man. "What do you think obsession is?" he asked, locking his stormy eyes onto mine. I was caught off guard by his question. "Obsession?" "Yes," he replied immediately. No hesitation. No smile. "Well, I think it's uh..." I chewed my bottom lip. "An unhealthy fixation. Like the... the strong influence. A compulsion. The desire to have full possession of something or someone," I explained, carefully selecting my words. "It can also be linked to mental illness."

His mouth crashes into mine again And then he’s lifting me pressing me to the tile, entering me again with no warning. “Tell me what you are,” he growls. “Yours,” I cry. “Yours…..fuck only yours—”I groan out and He fucks me through it. In the water under the steam and In the haze of something darker than lust, sharper than love. Obsession.

He weighed the book in his hand, not looking at the title but at me. ​"A good choice," he agreed, his voice dropping to a low purr. "Obsession is a fascinating thing, isn't it? It can drive a man mad, or it can make him feel utterly alive." He closed the distance between us just enough that I could smell the faint scent of his masculine body scent with his usual intense cologne. "And once a man is obsessed, he rarely lets go of the object of his desire, no matter the consequences." ​My breath caught in my throat because I knew he wasn't talking about Heathcliff.

All of this stirs within me, not like a fading echo, but like a fire being stoked. — It's insane. I murmur the words at the dark ceiling. My voice is a hoarse scrape in the silence. I want her. Again. Already. More. The realization strikes me full force, with an almost violent power. It is not the simple, physical desire I know. It is a distortion of it, an obsession. It's as if a part of me remained inside her, and it desperately demands to return to its place of origin. It is an appetite that is not fed by being sated, but feeds on it to grow.

An addiction. She was nothing but an addiction. Yet an intense addiction that has made its way in his blood, coursing through his veins and now there was no turning around. He had reached to the dead end of that addiction that despite wanting, he can't give up on that addiction. Reaching a point that he had accepted he was obsessed with her. That he has fallen into the depth of that obsession. Fallen completely. Insanely. Passionately. Desperately. And lastly, hopelessly.

“You really are addicted to chaos.” “Maybe,” I said, turning back toward the window. “But at least I make it look good.” She left after that, the echo of her heels fading down the hall. The city stretched out beneath me, it was restless, alive, merciless. Just like her. River. She had no idea what she’d started. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was the point. She wanted to see how far I’d go. Fine. I wouldshow her. I grabbed my phone and opened a secure line. The contact was unlisted, the kind you didn’t find in public directories.