Jealous/possessive Controlling Boyfriend Books Novels & Stories

One hand slid around my throat from behind, firm enough to tilt my head back into him, while his body pressed flush to mine. His tongue slid slowly up my neck, leaving sparks racing through me as his breath burned hot and reckless against my ear. My breath caught in my throat. Ah, damn him. He always knew how to rip control from me, piece by trembling piece. “To hell with everything else. When you’re with me, you only think of me. I told you, I’m a jealous beast," he said. The edge in his tone should have scared me, but instead it sent heat curling low in my stomach. “Don’t be so possessive. What if I did run away?”

The rain was washing over the glass, making the world outside look blurry. "I want to see you against the city," he muttered. He turned me around so I was facing the window. He pressed my palms against the cold glass. I gasped. The glass was freezing, but Kael’s body was a wall of heat behind me. He pressed his chest against my back. I could feel his hard muscles and his fast heartbeat. He reached around and grabbed my breasts, his large hands squeezing me. He was being so possessive, like he wanted to make sure I knew I belonged to him in this office.

She didn't want to admit she was angry and jealous. - Good, you're not jealous... he said with a smile. As he finished his words, he approached her and wanted to kiss her. He said in an authoritative tone when Mia moved a little: - If you want them to see me kiss you, then move. Mia worried about the two children and stopped moving. Her eyes turned red as she was upset. Joseph kissed her tenderly and said in a vague voice: - I've never slept with any woman but you. In his life, he's only loved this one woman.

Just thinking about how he spoke to me and pressed into me with so much … possessiveness, caused my insides to tingle in anticipation. Then there was the other part of me, the more reasonable part, that was screaming with frustration and anger. I only went out for two hours to help out my new friend, Killian, and Noah suddenly acts like a jealous asshole just because this friend happens to be a guy? It was as if I was one of his possessions. A thing of his that wasn’t allowed to be anything other than what he deemed it to be. And even though my chest was boiling with indignant fury at the way he treated me, I couldn’t stop myself from being aroused, either.

Jealousy surged within me, an uncontrollable fire threatening to consume my senses. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I watched them, my mind inundated with irrational thoughts. I wanted to storm into that restaurant, to pull Lyza away from that man and claim her as my own. It pained me to see her with another, even though we had not yet established a formal relationship. The possessiveness within me reared its ugly head, a primal instinct that yearned to mark her as mine. In the depths of my jealousy, I found myself engaging in a heated conversation with myself, my voice tinged with possessiveness and longing.

Isabella asked quietly. "No." Dante's voice cracked. "I'm possessive to the point of obsession. I can't stand other men looking at you. I've had nightmares about you leaving since month two. I track your location constantly even though you don't know it. I'm controlling and damaged and so fucking broken that I don't know how to love someone without suffocating them." "Dante…."

“Is this what it’s going to be? You breaking me down at night and then ignoring me in the morning?” He froze in the doorway. Slowly, he turned back, his expression unreadable. “You think I’m ignoring you?” “What would you call it?” He stepped closer, each stride measured. When he stopped at the edge of the bed, he looked down at her like a storm about to break. “I call it control,” he said. “Because if I let myself touch you again right now, I wouldn’t make it to my meeting. And I have an empire to run.” Her heart stuttered. She hated that his words thrilled her even as they infuriated her.

“Let me kiss the fictional husband. Just once.” His jaw tightened. “Until we’re divorced, you can’t fool around. You are mine, Mrs. Salvatore.” I tilted my head. “You’re starting to sound like the possessive alpha in my book. You’re real. You talk. You’re broody…” “You can’t even control your alcohol,” he snapped. “How dare you let another man touch you?” I grinned. “Are you jealous?” “Was it to spite me? Or do you genuinely want other men?”

“I’m still at the villa. He brought me back. Locked me in again.” “Jesus…” Jordan cursed under his breath. “I knew it. I freaking knew he wouldn’t let you go.” “It’s worse now.” My grip tightened around the phone. “He’s—he’s different. He’s acting like I belong to him. Not just in a ‘you’re mine’ possessive way… it’s deeper. More obsessed. He waits on me. Feeds me. Tells me not to move, like I’m furniture he’s scared someone might steal.” “Cel… that’s not love. That’s control.”

I stare at her for a long moment, my chest tightening and my throat burning like I swallowed fire. “I wasn’t angry,” I say, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I was jealous that fucker got so lucky. But that's about it, baby.” Her brows pinch together. “He's my boyfriend and he's a nice guy. Also, stop kissing me and calling me baby!” She tries to move but I hold her in place. She's getting distracted. Good. Anything to keep her from relieving that nightmare is welcome to me. “Your boyfriend, huh? Does he make you feel like I do?” I draw a line on her collarbone, slowly.