Favorite Possession Novels & Stories

“Not that one. That’s a limited edition. There are only 20 of them in the entire world.” “Really? Then I can get more money from selling this. Good for the kids. Thank you, Vivaan.” Vivaan frowned. He went and sat on the bed, looking disheartened. In the past few weeks, he has lost a few of his suits, his platinum cufflinks, his collection of action figures and his FIFA set. Now the watches too. If only he did not love Sanvika so much… He would never let someone else take these away from him. Because whatever the case is, he liked his rich privileged life. He felt bad for the poor. But he still loved his limited edition watch.

I won't be happy about this pass yet. “Thank you, I...we appreciate your kindness. It won’t happen again, I can assure you," Marek says in one breath, purposefully trying to sound like a blustering fool. Any semblance of guilt is not shared openly through his mannerisms. “If it’s not going to happen again, and I’m not going to see you two again, why not join me for dinner, and perhaps a night in my home?” he offers, motioning around himself, knowing the decadence of his home would be enough to lure in the surest of souls. This is less of a home, and more of a showcase for the wealthy competition that must pass through here each day.

My heart wants him to hold me tighter cause am all his, his possession, all of me. I remember his confession and our wild last night together, I remember how he devoured my lips with his, and how his every kisses were more passionate than the last, more eloquent than any word could be, how his kisses were intense and rough... I love when he becomes rough with me, I loved how he brought me back to his room and to his bed, how he tore my damn clothes off, and how I let him have his way, how his juicy big dick penetrated inside and drowned me in that possessive love of his.

Hi everyone, this is the first chapter of His Sweet Possession . It would be really interesting in the upcoming chapters. Hope you all enjoy it and make sure to give me feedback, and please do vote.😄 Have a great time reading 📚!!! ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Everything I own is just for me to look at and enjoy, and that little girl, she would be my most prized possession. Initially I hated the fact that she was auctioned like this, but now, I was glad because atleast it made sure that she ends up being only mine.

Silent tears fall for several minutes. It is not the money that moves me,it is the thought behind each gift. Each present reflects my tastes, my desires. He could have given me a cheap bracelet and I would still have screamed with joy. Speaking of jewelry, I finally decide to wear the necklace that was around the teddy bear’s neck. That stuffed animal has become one of my most precious possessions,not just because it was the first gift, but because of the single word printed on its T‑shirt: “Sorry.” It is so difficult to admit one’s mistakes, even more to ask for forgiveness. Day after day, I find myself waiting eagerly for the next gift, barely noticing how quickly the week passes.

And a carefree, warmth-filled woman who didn’t even realize she was changing everything around her just by existing. He wanted to own the space she walked into. She wanted to breathe inside it. He saw love as possession. She saw love as freedom. And neither of them knew yet — They were about to become each other’s greatest weakness. Author’s Note Hi readers 🤍 His Possession, Her Freedom is my second novel and a deeper step into my writing journey. This story comes entirely from my own imagination, shaped by emotions, contrasts, and the delicate line between possession and freedom in love. It explores power, vulnerability, control, warmth, and what happens when two completely different emoti

I enjoy bringing possessions back to my equally hard done by friend, who turns scraps into incredible creations. Since I've been cut off from my father for over a year, I haven't had much luck making money."I am eternally grateful, darling Dove," Dev says distractedly, sifting through each item with remarkable precision. "It's all vintage and musty, but there's real gold in that jewellery," I muse, setting my bag down on our tiny dining room table, which is less for eating food at, and more for storing various household items. "Ugh, I love old people." He starts dragging the bag toward the couch. "Well, I love when they die."

I couldn't bear to part with it. Drawn to his essence, I found his wolf pelt in the depths of his closet. It was something to give my child, a reminder of his father. A sob caught in my throat as I clutched the soft fur, shoving it into a pillowcase. It was all I dared to take; all I could carry. No, the most valuable possession I had was safe within me. My unborn child. It was all I needed.

They ment so much to me, even if I had only had it for a year or even less than. I found it, punching the air victoriously as I got a hold of it. It was light pink, one of the colors I adored, and it held a year's worth of photos I cherished with my heart. My heart sank a bit at the thought that I nearly forgot about it. I didn't want to, but it seemed like I did, like I completely abandoned it and left it gone for good. I clutched -my most prized possession, pressing it tightly to my chest, remembering the joy I felt when I finally got it once again.