Marcus Possessive Novels & Stories

“Stay out of my life, or I’ll make it my personal mission to see every door you’ve spent the last five years trying to open slam permanently shut. I don’t make empty threats.” Marcus doesn’t flinch. He holds Tristan’s stare like this isn’t new, like they’ve done this before. “Right,” he says slowly. “Because that's what you do, isn't it. You just have a habit of claiming things that were never yours to begin with. Not everything is an acquisition, Hale. But I guess when you’ve bought your way through everything else, people start to look like line items too.” His jaw tightens slightly. “And if you want to talk about who knows who, keep pushing me and I'll make sure every investor in this cit

"It's possessive. Consuming. It's everything you ran away from with Marcus." "No." The word came out sharp, definitive. Maya pressed closer, forcing him to see her, really see her. "Marcus wanted to own me. He wanted to break me down until there was nothing left but his reflection. What I feel between us—" She placed her hand over his heart, feeling it thunder beneath her palm. "This isn't that. These are two people who've survived their own hells and found something worth fighting for." "You don't know what you're saying." But his hand came up to cover hers, holding it against his chest like an anchor.

The remaining fragments of my defiant heart crumbled completely, scattering into the cold, indifferent air around me. Our closeness was beginning to irk me. I was disgusted. “Why are you here, Marcus?” I said, wanting to strike a conversation. The conversation that'd most likely lead to his doom. Or mine. “To claim you. I've let you stray for so long. I can't let stray dogs have you anymore. You're my property, remember?” He referred to Damien as a stray dog, but he—Marcus—was worse than any stray. I’d choose the company of stray dogs a million times over the beast he was.

He was hers alone, and she wanted it to stay that way. Smirking at her possessiveness, which seemed to rival his own now, Marcus turned, grabbing his robe, and putting it on before he scooped up the pile of clothes left by the Gamma. “Ten minutes, Princess, then I will come for you.” His arrogant words were delivered with a smile before he sauntered out of the room, clearly proud of himself.

I whimpered, my teeth clattering together as I spoke with the little strength left in me. “Your house? The question should be, do you even have a house?” Marcus chuckled. I frowned. “What do you mean?” “I should be the one telling you to leave my house because you are the one in my house, my property,” Marcus snapped. I frowned, confusion etched on my face. “What are you talking about? This is my property.” “Your property?” Marcus repeated, then turned to Eunice, and they laughed together. I stared dumbfounded.

“You’re ours, Lyra. Completely. And if I have to spend the rest of this week proving that to you, I will.” “Here?” I whispered, glancing around the hallway. “Anywhere. Everywhere. Until there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to.” The possessiveness in his voice sent heat spiraling through me. “What about the others?” “What about them?” “Won’t they want…” “Want what?” His lips found my neck, pressing hot kisses against my pulse point. “Want to claim you too? Want to mark you until you smell like all of us?” “Marcus,” I breathed.

he called out, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "There's something else we need to talk about." I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to speak. But when he finally did, his words sent a chill down my spine—a chill that seemed to freeze my body to the core. "I want custody of Marco," Marcus said, his voice cold and unyielding. "I want him to live with me.”

"The building is practically empty. Besides, didn't you say you wanted to stop hiding me? That you wanted everyone to know?" I ask, wriggling my brows at him. Something shifts in Marcus's expression. "You're right. I want everyone to know that this beautiful woman is mine and mine alone.” He declares possessively and I can't help but smile. "So," I say, trailing my fingers up his chest. "Are you going to keep working or are you going to show me how much you missed me?"

Marcus said casually, like he hadn't assaulted me less than twenty-four hours ago. Then his eyes found mine over Dante's shoulder. The look he gave me was predatory and possessive – a clear reminder of his threat. Tell anyone and I'll kill you. My words caught in my throat. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. "Thanks for the update," Dante said. "We'll join you in a bit." "No rush," Marcus said, still looking at me. "Take your time with your... mate." The way he said the word made it sound dirty somehow.

Wine was working. Marcus smirked. " You just called me Mr Perfect and now you dare to suggest I have a bad side of character? That is an insult." " Accept my sincere apology," I bowed my head, mocking him. Marcus giggled and leaned forward slightly. " I am very protective of what is mine. Almost possessive." He looked at me with hungry eyes, and I shivered. " It is getting late. I should be going to bed," I said, placing my glass on the coffee table.