His Curvy Obsession Novels & Stories

I doubt Colt ever flirted with me or used any words except when he was talking me through orgasms. I cleared my throat at the memory, and shifted in my seat. “I am quite popular at the moment.” I glanced at him, “You’ll make the news in record time.” He shrugged, “I have never hidden my obsessions.” “Even when they are another man’s wife?” “Especially when they are another man’s wife.” “You don’t give up, do you?” “On you? Not a chance.” I looked away, pressing my lips together, “And if I say no?”

“Okay, look, I’m thrilled for you, seriously. You deserve to be happy. But I have to ask the hard question, Reinna, and you need to think about this.” I nodded, bracing myself. “Go ahead.” “Did he say he loves you before or after he realized you were the only one who didn’t want him just because he’s handsome and rich? Did he say it before or after the sex got this wild?” Sarah asked, her voice gentle but firm. “Because you said he ran from Beth and ran straight to you. He was confused, fighting something. He wants you everywhere, but is it you he’s obsessed with, or is it the escape? The forbidden thrill?”

She made her entrance with the practiced grace of a woman who knew how to command attention. Her heel snagged for a heartbeat on a warped "oorboard by the entrance, a stumble she masked with a toss of her hair, a straightening of her spine, and a sway of her hips. Layla was a walking contradiction, a dangerous curve of hips barely contained by tight denim, her upper half showcased in a simple white cotton tank. The e#ect wasboth a threat and an invitation, a promise of trouble wrapped in a deceptively sweet package. She was a storm brewing on the horizon, a

I’m certain his tongue didn’t trip too. While the party may seem elaborate I’m not quite in the mood. I look at Curly with my glass up in the air, he pours me another dram and I stand up slamming it back. I begin to walk towards the front of the entrance in hopes of getting some fresh air and cool off away from all the noise. Curly stands up quickly “Miss—- “Curly a lady has to use the powder room…in private.” I add. He nods once gesturing where it is and as I walk in that direction I decide to slip his security detail for that fresh air and solitude.

“These curves drive me crazy. This tight pussy clenching around me. You are perfect. Come for me love. Come on my cock.” I shattered around him. My orgasm crashed through me hard. I screamed his name as my walls pulsed around him. Nico took his turn next. He slid into me slow and deep. His mouth stayed at my ear whispering praise while he rocked into me. “These curves were made for us. This tight wet pussy. These heavy tits. This soft belly. You were made to be worshipped like this. Feel how deep I am inside you.”

~ CASSIAN ~ "Fucking hell, you'll be the death of me…" I curse, watching how beautifully wrecked she looks, a smirk curling on my lips, knowing this is my handiwork. Her face looks flushed, her skin glistening with sweat, and her hair is damp from it. She looks like a fucking goddess. I want to capture this moment, maybe take a fucking picture of her, and remind myself what she looks like — how beautiful she looks after I finish eating her out. Except I'm not that unhinged.

“Bend over the desk for me. Raise your skirt up. I want to see what I did to you.” I obeyed without thinking twice. My body moved on its own, like it had been waiting for the command. I stepped forward and bent over the edge of his desk, my hands flat on the cool wooden surface. The position made the short plaid skirt ride up even higher on my thighs. I reached back with one hand and slowly lifted the hem, bunching the fabric around my waist until my ass was completely exposed. I was only wearing a pair of simple white panties that barely covered the full, round shape of my ass. The thin fabric was already damp, and I knew he could see it.

Velvet Obsession Amarissa¥ I stepped out of the elevator on the top floor of Dylan Tower with my heart hammering against my ribs. The black pencil skirt hugged my hips and thighs with every step, and the crisp white blouse suddenly felt too tight across my breasts. I had spent extra time this morning making sure I looked professional, competent, and untouchable. Still after the strange, heated morning, I always felt wet and unsettled. My body was still humming with the aftereffects of the intense orgasm I had given myself, and the confusing feeling of being watched refused to leave me.

It’s bad enough that I have the hots for him even without the added element of two hot girls making out and scissoring. “Really? Don’t girls usually like to be the one to pick the movie?” I slid into the bed beside him and took the iPad from him. “Oh, this. I see you were already watching this.” I said, clicking on a movie titled Obsession. “Oh, you don’t want to watch them.” I looked at him, and he laughed nervously. “Why not?” I asked, and got my answer when I looked back at the screen and saw someone being strapped to a bed.

For the 999th time, the system in my head issues a warning: [Warning! Your infatuation level has exceeded the safe limit! If you do not leave Eleanor Hayes within one hour, you will be erased!] I look up to find my CEO wife, Eleanor, standing protectively in front of her secretary, Charles Beaumont, in the hospital. He has falsely accused me of stealing his paintings, and she believes him without question. Right in front of me, she slashes the paintings I have spent three years creating and then orders me to apologize to Charles. "You stole Charles' paintings in the first place," she says coldly. "Everything I've done is to make it up to him. All you have to do is apologize. What's so har