My Possessive Novels & Stories

He announced Possessive much? "So that I don't escape?" "With me, You wouldn't want to go anyway… moreover you have nowhere to go, darling.".

This wasn't just a statement; it was a vow, spoken in a language that felt more intimate, more binding. His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb grazing my bottom lip, and his eyes darkened with a possessive, unwavering claim. "Personne ne t’aimera comme moi. Personne ne te protégera comme moi. Personne ne te possédera comme moi." No one will love you like I do. No one will protect you like I do. No one will possess you like I do. The word "possédera" — will possess — echoed in the silent room. It should have frightened me. Part of me was frightened. But a larger part of me felt a shocking, undeniable thrill.

Everything of him. Her wolf snarled softly. ‘It’s not our house,’ she murmured. ‘It’s his. All of it. His.’ The thought made her stomach tighten. Ownership. Possession. Her wolf didn’t sound angry—she sounded resigned, and somehow, that was worse. At least Kalmin hadn’t locked her in the room this time. That small victory gave her a glimmer of hope as she moved toward the kitchen. The soft sound of footsteps approaching behind her made her heart lurch in her chest. Her body tensed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know it was him.

"Just know that if you ever do decide you don't hate me, I'm not letting you take it back. I don't share, and I don't do half of anything. If this is real, it's all the way real, and it's mine." "That's incredibly possessive of you." "I'm aware." "You say that like it's a compliment to yourself." "It is. I've spent thirty years making sure nothing that's mine ever gets taken from me. I'm not planning to make an exception for you just because you throw good insults and better shoes." "What if I don't want to be something that's 'yours,' Knight? What if I want to just be mine?"

“I want to be useful to you. Not because I’m bound to be. Because I want there to be places where I take care of what belongs to me.” The phrasing caught me — what belongs to me. I’d heard it from him before, in the possessive way of the hunger. But this was different. Softer. More careful. The ownership not as control but as responsibility. “Okay,” I said. “Okay,” he said.

The weight of the kitchen’s silence was suffocating, every staff member standing like a statue, hanging onto every word of the man who owned their livelihoods. ​"The Porsche, Tim," Jax said, nudging him with an elbow. "The 911 you’ve been eyeing. It’s yours. I’m a man of my word." ​He leaned back against the counter, right above where I was huddled, his voice carrying clearly to every corner of the room.

She said as she opened the box. Her jewelry box. Oh my God. I've never imagined this day all my life. Staring right back at me is the multi million dollars jewelry possessed by Mrs Black. She brought out a diamond necklace and raised it up for me to see. I think I was going crazy. That shit looked like they could bye me.

It had me wondering what had happened to him in the past to make him like this. I couldn’t help it if his aloof qualities made him that much more appealing to me though. I smiled at his kind words. This must mean he approves of me. Good. “I really do care for him.” I said back. “I know, I can tell. You and him have a rather strange relationship.” He said, and then he paused for a moment. Then he kept going. “I am a very possessive person. When something is mine, it is fully mine. I’m not one to share.” He said. I fully understood this. I couldn’t imagine his eyes ever actually wandering.

"Amelia your mine not anyone else's, so how can I be jealous of what is already mine?" "First I'm not an object, and second use the second definition for jealous," "My intention was not to make you feel like an object and still I don't believe or have suspicions that you are attracted to someone else," he corrected "Use possessive," I said and he frowned bitting the inside of his cheek thinking it over, moving my feet into his lap. "I think possessive is the right way to describe my selfish ways," he mumbled looking back to me, his eyes running over my body.

"Of course I am too possessive of people who I consider are mine. So don't even think of changing." ....... [Jacqueline's POV] I know how it feels to never be good enough for someone. How it feels when the people we love don't love us back. Or how it feels when they don't even recognize us. why wouldn't I know? I am A girl who fights her insecurities every day. Who knew better than me, possession is nothing but a feeling of insecurity we develop to deal with our extrinsic circumstances. To fake our insecurities in a wrapped-up great word. But who am I to give someone fake hope.