Intimate Obsessions Novels & Stories

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."

9Maya. I’d never been like this before. Not with anyone. Not with myself. Obsession felt like a sickness, something I couldn’t shake, something that turned my days into endless waiting, my nights into hours spent staring at the ceiling, aching and empty and full of wild, helpless want.

with a hand between your thighs Welcome to Filthy Obsessions. The elevator ride made her wetter. Sariah had worn nothing under the trench coat except a red lace thong and a push-up bra that barely contained her tits. She’d sprayed perfume between her thighs, tied her hair up the way he liked. She touched herself in the backseat of the Uber. Twice. First was a quick rub against her thigh while imagining his cock slamming into her over the desk. Second was full fingers down the front, pressing her clit hard through her panties until she bit her lip and tasted blood.

The thought of that doesn’t sound peaceful, it’s wrong, Disruptive but wrong. My chest tightens sharply and I stop breathing for a second too long. No! I force air into my lungs, each breath controlled, measured. As I Inhale again and hold before exhaling out. I press my thumb harder into my palm again until the sting cuts through the noise in my head. This is irrational. This attachment is spiraling into obsession. I don’t like that word, Obsession implies lack of control and i’m always in control. So why won’t my thoughts slow or obey!

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.

It was completely dark inside. Just when I kept my foot inside, I was grabbed quickly and pushed against the door. I felt a weight on top of my body. A hand clicked the knob beside me to lock it from inside. The intoxicating fragrance of lotus flower and heavy breaths were falling all over me. My wolf was almost losing its mind. I was still pressed against the door. I could feel Zen struggling with his wolf to keep it in his control. Suddenly he asked in a hoarse voice, "What do you think you're doing?"

Damn, I didn't ask to play! I am stashed behind the kitchen curtains, and I watch the show, and I like what I see. A beautiful woman that beauty has not left by the side of the road. She is wearing a yellow dress. Excess of coquetry? Need to be seen and admired over and over again? It seems like it is working just fine. I see her. She reminds me of femininity, and chills run through down my spine without being able to refrain them. They go too fast for me, just like my thoughts. I find it hard to focus on anything other than this woman. I do not know her. She doesn't see me from the top of the third floor, and yet I spy on her like a teenager would observe a classmate from the corner of his

Stay tuned for MADDEST OBSESSIONS. Love. NaYa.