Marcus Possessive Novels & Stories

"And, just so you understand...as long as I'm fucking you, you belong to me." "Who the hell says shit like that, Marcus?" I ask. Part of me bristles at his possessiveness, but another part of me is so turned on I can't think clearly. I don't know whether to smack his hands off my ass and tell him to go screw himself and his caveman antics, or whether to drop to my knees and take him in my mouth. He's that infuriating. And confusing. "You can't just…tell me you own me. That's not something normal people say."

Or maybe it was just him drinking to forget something. After taking a big gulp of the drink, he turned toward me and sat down in an armchair across from me. He placed the glass on the coffee table and leaned forward slightly. I couldn't quite decipher his features because they were too dark. His expression was blank yet stern at the same time. "I don't want you to get drunk," he finally said. "But you drink," I argued. "Not for fun," he answered. "Not for pleasure. It just feels good to let loose sometimes. Besides, I can't afford to lose any control tonight."

They keep saying it like it’s a declaration. Like it holds power. “Mine.” As if I’m a piece of territory to be claimed. As if I’m some prize they found in the ruins of a battlefield. First Marcus, then Sebastian—both so different, and yet… echoing the same possessive word. Mine. But here’s the truth neither of them understands yet. It’s not them who owns me. It’s me… who owns them.

“Talk to me.” “You are not going to like this.” I frowned, what the hell could have happened now? “Lay it on me.” we had issues, yet those guys wanted to have fun. There was no fun or rest for the wicked. “Marcus is now the owner of The Spear?” the smile on my face widened.

I could still remember the dangerous glint in his eyes as he’d said, “I would never forgive anyone for touching what’s mine.” The memory sent a shiver down my spine, though I wasn’t entirely sure if it was fear or something else. There had been something so raw, so possessive in his tone that I couldn’t ignore the strange pull I felt toward him in that moment. Marcus approached the table with his usual swagger and settled into the chair across from us. “Don’t mind me,” he said casually, picking up a plate. “Just here for some company.” Aiden and I exchanged a glance. It was unspoken, but we both knew we couldn’t leave now. So we stayed, our plates pushed slightly to the side as Marcus dug in

I didn’t even try to hide it. Because I liked this. I liked it too much. Marcus took a sharp breath, his grip tightening, his other hand moving to my thigh, his touch searing as he pulled me even closer. His grin stretched just a little too wide, his gaze locking onto mine, dark. Possessive. Triumphant. Satisfied. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over my leg, like he was already sure of my answer before I had even given it. Then, his voice dropped, softer. “Let’s tell them.”

If it was anyone else, they'd be licking the floor by now for even breathing near my wine collection but I refrain myself because Lucifer Genovese is the one who helped me and my family get back their glory, he is the one pulling all the strings and all I had to do was wrap a thin wire across my father's neck and cut off his oxygen—which I was more than glad to do. "Nicole Russo," he starts. His empty, grey eyes access my every move but I remain unfazed on the outside, quietly sipping my drink. However, on the inside—ice ran through my veins because anything that comes out of his mouth, or any person who has the privilege of even being noticed by him, needs salvation. Nevertheless, a muscle

We both smiled when I said that to him. The smile on his face is very obvious and he hugged me tightly. "I don't want anyone to talk to you that close. I'm so jealous." He said while the smile was not removed from his lips. Well, compared before, his smile reached his ears. I rolled my eyes at him. "Yes, you're possessive, Mr. Gomez." His mood changed when I suddenly called him the wrong way. "I'm just fencing off what I own." He answered me. "Yes, Sir Henry." I laughed at his frown because he really didn’t want me to call him sir.

Now she was naked in the devil’s bed, his cum still inside her. Marcus slammed the door, locking it. He turned, eyes dark with possession and rage. “They won’t touch what’s mine.” In two strides he was back at the bed, ripping the sheets away. Pera lay exposed, her full breasts heaving, nipples hard, thighs glistening with evidence of their raw fucking.

“But you can’t keep sneaking around like this. Derek’s watching everything now.” Marcus pulled his hand out slowly, brought his fingers to his mouth, and licked them clean. “She can do what she wants,” he said, smiling at me. “She’s not his property. She’s ours.” Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Ours? Already? We just got here yesterday.”