Jealousy Vs Possessiveness Novels & Stories

“And since I’m neither of those things, you don’t have any claim over me. Which makes all these irritating actions you keep showing… completely pointless.” And, suddenly, he took a slow step forward, closing just enough distance for his presence to press a little harder into the space between us. “If I told you that I don’t like seeing you with other men especially low-ranked ones, would that change anything?” His stare didn’t waver. “Like I said, I only get mad because I’m seeing how easily you’re able to be comfortable with others. And I thought, I was the only one you were like that with.” “Jealousy,” he said next. “Can show up in different ways, whether it’s toward your mate, your friend

And so did every other man in the restaurant. It was fine by me to have other men admire my possession. I didn’t mind if they looked, if they admired what was mine, if they envied me. I wanted them to envy me, to have blue balls while thinking of my double-barrel-of-perfection-wife. As long as they don't touch her, we're good. Their imaginations were free to run wild. The rage I felt seeing another man touch my woman was insane. It was familiar, because I've always had a temper. But then there was something else, an unfamiliar feeling that was attached to it, possessiveness.

I felt dull compared to her shine. I watched Elise laugh, throwing her head back. She was touching him too much. Her hand was on his neck. She was pressing her body against his. A sharp, hot spike of something ugly twisted in my gut. Jealousy. I had never felt this with Leon. When Leon cheated, I felt betrayed. I felt sad. But I never felt this burning, possessive urge to march over there and shove a woman away. I have no right to be jealous, I told myself sternly. This is a temporary marriage. He is doing me a favor. He is allowed to have friends. He is allowed to have a life.

A simple word can very easily get someone riled up and tense. “Why?” Harvey whispered. Slowly and surely, the creeping realization dawned on him. Matching his father's cold stares, he pressed on. “You are so angry… why? Because I touched it?” His words dripped like a dry, poisoned whisper. “Or because it is yours?” Nicholas’s expression darkened, but Harvey easily caught it. Possession. His father, this firm disciplinary man, was possessive of something that wasn’t even his to begin with. Possessiveness and a hint of jealousy.

"I live in your house; I don't know if that counts. Besides, how can that hurt you? I'm a free girl." "In that you are mine alone! From this moment on, I forbid you to be seen with this man or anyone else. Do you understand?" he asked in a domineering tone, and she opened her eyes wide in the face of this attack of possessiveness. To have been not to possess. You can have what you don't want. Possession is having and enjoying what you have. José Saramago.

Fire with more fire. “That’s the kind of thing that feels unbeatable when you’re in it,” he went on. “Like you found something rare.” He flipped back a couple pages, skimming parts again. “But it burns fast,” he added quietly. The jealousy, the control, the pushing boundaries, it wasn’t random. It was part of the same thing that made it feel so good in the first place. “That possessive stuff?” Adam shrugged a little. “Some guys would actually take that as a win. Like ‘yeah, she’s really into me.’”

Vanessa actually told me about it and asked who she was but I just told her not to worry, the less people knew about us, the better. She was purposely touching me to rile Ava up, Because she said a woman only glares at another woman like that, if they're jealous, but of course Ava can't possibly be jealous, she doesn't even like me like that. After she left the table, it only confirmed that she was indeed jealous, making me wonder if she actually liked me in that way. I followed after her, and she was so fucking cute and sexy when she was jealous, I was able to contain the situation but now I had a bigger one at hand.

Not that she needed to show her teeth to be scary. "Hang on," I said, ignoring her expression. "Isn't avarice the same as jealousy?" "No, avarice is the desire for material objects, or for pleasure (she took great enjoyment out of gazing directly at me as she spoke, emphasising the word pleasure slightly) where as jealousy is the desire for something that is someone elses." "Well?" she said, her hands going to her hips. She took a pose, leaning more on one leg than the other. Her movement made her breasts jiggle, and I could almost feel them in my hand. I wanted to feel them in my hand.

I was thinking, a large body with two arms hugged me from behind, screaming in panic. “J… JayPark!? What are you doing? to let go of me! Are you crazy or how dare you enter the girls' restroom?!" "so jealous, after rose go out to eat with my best friend." I get goosebumps when I have to listen to this tone of his voice, obviously neither of us has anything to do with love affairs, jealous or not is his business, what does he have to say to me?! Not to mention that he has no right to forbid me from going with other people.

"Even if you pissed me off, I'll let it go." But as I watched from the other side of the screen, I felt nothing. My heart was a barren wasteland. See? He knew everything. He just thought he could keep pushing because he believed I'd always love him no matter what. Rita, convinced I was truly dead, turned all her rage over Milton's sudden absence onto me. The texts she sent were venomous. "Even in death, you're still trying to steal my man? Clearly, skinning you and blowing you up wasn't cruel enough."