Brutal Obsession Novels & Stories

His knees buckle and drop to the ground. The media and police call me silenzio, while the others just call Silenzio. I'm a serial killer and I work for the country's most notorious and dangerous dark Italian organization known as The obsidian Syndicate. I work in the organization merely to quench my blood thirst after the unfortunate incident that occurred in my life which has scarred me and turned me brutal, I was given several therapy sessions but none ever worked to bring me back to the man I used to be before the incident.

I did. Long, deep strokes at first, learning the angle that made him gasp. The bed creaked softly. Outside the city kept moving, indifferent. Inside there was only the sound of skin and breath and the low, helpless noises Noah made every time I thrust deeper. I shifted my weight and hit that spot again. His hands scrambled at my back. “There—don’t stop—”

Lucian’s fists slammed into the heavy bag again and again, the leather groaning under each brutal hit. His knuckles stung, his wrists ached, but he didn’t stop. Sweat dripped down his temple as he gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath. “She’s supposed to be the enemy… supposed to be the fucking enemy.” He hit harder, his breath coming rough. The image of Serena’s flushed face, her moans, the way she’d shattered under his touch—it all came flooding back no matter how hard he tried to beat it out of himself.

He sim- ply existed—a solid, silent presence that commanded attention whether you wanted it to or not. There was a gravity to him, a quiet intensity that set him apart from the rest, like a storm brewing on the horizon. "Rough night?" he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air between them, pitched just low enough that only she could hear. It was a sound that resonated deep within her, stirring something primal CHAOTIC OBSESSION | 3 and untamed. Alli's mouth quirked in a wry smirk. "Not really. Just slow." She hoped her voice

I reached around and rubbed her swollen clit in tight circles while I fucked her, feeling her walls flutter and clench around my thick shaft. “You feel that?” I rasped, leaning over her back, lips brushing her ear. “Feel how deep I am inside you? This is what obsession feels like, little wife. I would kill for this cunt. I would burn cities for it. You’ve turned the Don into a man who can’t think straight because all he wants is to be buried inside his wife’s tight holes.” I pulled out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness, and pressed the fat, creamy head against her asshole.

I came hard, my cum shooting out and splattering across the screen of my phone, I kept pumping my fist, milking every last drop out of my cock, my hips still humping up into my hand, I was panting and sweating and shaking, and I could not stop watching her on the screen I stared at her for a long moment, watching her sleep, she was so beautiful and so broken and so completely mine and I felt a surge of satisfaction so deep it made me shudder I was obsessed, I knew I was obsessed, I was too obsessed with her and I did not give a single fuck, she had ruined me and now I was going to ruin her, I was going to make her suffer for the rest of her life, I was going to make her regret ever crossing

Any annoyance I had once felt for Callum had been totally replaced with lust. Attraction. He had acknowledged his act, kept it up for others, but only I knew his secret. His true self. He had given everything up for me. He had bent his whole life backwards for me. I dare say he was obsessed with his little slut. And that obsession was mutual. I could not get enough of him. He was the best, dirtiest, most sexy boyfriend I could ever ask for. My lust for him had been well founded and it was paying off in spades.

I had stumbled into a den of monsters, and I was the next victim to be sacrificed on their blood-stained altar. As we made our way through the throngs of people, I saw the faces of those who were about to be slaughtered. They were slaves, no longer useful to the Lycans, and they were going to be put down like animals. It was a chilling sight, one that made my blood run cold. But the Lycan was not content with just killing these poor souls. He had his sights set on me.

And he did not make us wait long. Thirty minutes later, Max and I massaged our wrists as we admired our work. Flynn was slumped in his chair with his wrists cuffed tightly on the seat hands. He had bruises all over his face and his white shirt was bloodied. His left eye was swollen till it almost closed up. “Have you decided to talk?” I asked. He exhaled and spat blood at me. “Go to hell!” “Okay,” I said and raised the hammer on the table. Max stopped me before it got to Flynn's wrists. “That's too much. Don't let the psychopath take over.”

She tapped Dae Hyun’s back a little hard, sending a code for him to let her go. “I’m sorry,” Dae Hyun whispered. “I don’t know why I’ve bad feelings lately.” “I’m alright, Oppa,” replied Qeiza. “I think you’ve pushed yourself too hard to work very late at night.” Qeiza knew well Dae Hyun’s habits. Her adopted brother was just like Ansel. He was a workaholic who didn’t know time when he was struggling with the stack of documents or macbook. “I guessed so,” Dae Hyun agreed. “But, you’ve always bothered my mind. Have you been in trouble?”