An Illicit Obsession Novels & Stories

Desire had become treason, and every step I took, every sip I swallowed, reminded me that I was falling further. My phone buzzed. Marcus again. Another minor issue—a financial discrepancy that should have been minor, but in the delicate balance of Edward’s empire, even the smallest fracture could widen into a canyon. I clenched my fists around the device, feeling the tension coil in my chest. My mind screamed at me to fix it, to act, to maintain control. But the image of Selene haunted me, and I realized something terrifying: obsession had begun to dictate my decisions. Mistakes, distractions, and desire were intertwining in ways I could not yet control.

I thought fucking her once was going to rid me of my irrational obsession with her but I was so wrong, so so wrong, I wanted her more than ever. I wanted her every night and I wanted to fuck her in all holes. God! I was so fucking obsessed with her. I've always prided myself on being a very rational person but when it comes to Lisa, all my rationale would fly out of the window and I'd be left with only one insatiable need. To bury myself deep inside her. To make her scream and beg. To have her shatter beneath me. Fuck! I was so fucking hard again for the fucking 10th time today and it was barely evening.

I close my for half a second — just enough to block out the sudden flood of imagery: her parted lips, her skin flushed beneath my palms. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, grounding myself, but it does nothing. The images keep downloading, fast and dirty, like a virus I can’t debug. That's the thing with being hypersexual. It's not just hunger — it’s obsession, the mental noise and constant, relentless. I can fuck someone once and be haunted for years. And this one? She’s an itch I can’t even scratch in private anymore. She's here. "Sit," I say, harsher than intended.

His eyes were glowing in the dark. The fragrance was making me go crazy. I suddenly felt soft lips touching mine. That was it. My wolf lost it. So was his. He started to kiss me. His lips trailed down from my lips to my neck. He was breathing heavily. He slightly licked my neck. Ecstasy was filled with his every movement. Suddenly I felt sharp teeth digging into the skin of my neck. I suddenly came back to my senses. What the hell he was trying to do. Was he going to mark me?

Or the way my body shook with orgasm? Oh Godddd. It wasn’t normal. It was twisted. And wrong. Before, I was only fantasizing about my stalker. But now, I’ve even started romanticizing him? For fuck’s sake Iliana, he broke all rules, violated your privacy over and over again. He was here. In your bedroom. I should’ve found that creepy. But…I found that thrilling.

he said, and his serious expression said he meant every word of it. "I am obsessed with you. I have been for a while now; the sight of you, the sound of your voice, your scent and your touch have been my obsession. You are the light in the darkness I have lived in my entire life, the reason I dare to dream for a future. The reason my life started meaning anything to me," he said and looked into my eyes possessively.

It never ends well. Obsession is lethal. It creeps in quietly, wrapping itself around you like comfort, but it suffocates in the end. It erases who you were and replaces it with hunger. If I stay, the person I am will disappear, replaced by someone who longs for a violent man, a sadistic killer. Obsession has never been a good trait, and this one terrifies me more than he ever could. More than what happened earlier tonight. Being locked in that office was horrifying, but this is worse. This feels like addiction, deep and consuming.

I want you to come to our final union as my bride. 'Three more days, my love. Three more days until we're united forever.' 'Eternally yours, Damien' I felt sick. The casual way he talked about murder, about stealing my life, about this twisted version of love he'd convinced himself was real—it was beyond disturbing. "He's completely insane," I said quietly. "He's obsessed," Maya corrected. "And obsession can be more dangerous than insanity. Insane people are unpredictable. But obsessed people follow patterns, fixate on specific goals."

he said in a sing-song voice. I playfully pushed at his shoulder as the Uber finally pulled up. We climbed into the blue car—or was it black? – who knew. I leaned my head against the window and watched the crowded New York streets and lights swoosh by in a blur. I could feel the affects of the alcohol intensifying and I was glad that I ate some food. I really needed tonight. It’s been so long since Wren and I had a night like that. Where we were just…Wren and Cath. I missed that more than anything. “We’re here,” the driver said.

—He whispers in my ear, "Anyone can come in right now. —My mind clouds as I feel something hard brushing against my intimacy until it releases..... —I can stop myself if that's what you want. —smiles sideways —That's what I thought. It was a bomb of emotions that exploded when I felt it, my soul vibrated wanting more, I cling to him while silencing my voice as he held a kiss so voracious and intense that I was lost in the madness of the aphrodisiac pleasure that my body was feeling I lean my body back and his hand holds me so he can get closer to me, his voice telling me what I am drives me crazy and I smile like a slut asking for more in murmurs but he orders me not to hold back. My body te