Obsessed Book Novels & Stories

And when still Emma didn’t react to her so than she had formed a group of nurses who always badmouthed about her and kept harassing her during her work. Emma was completely exhausted and tired. She had been sick for over a month she knew what this sickness is called but she didn’t have the courage to tell her sickness’s reality to Jacob as she has got pregnant. …

I am aching for her. I spend my day trying not to think about her sexy body and her huge tits. I have always been obsessed with tits. She let me suckle her as long as I wanted. I want to just hold her tit in my mouth while I fuck her pussy. I have to stop thinking about her while I am at work. I cannot have a hard cock while I am standing by the pool, passing out towels. I have never been this happy to see the next shift coming to relieve me. I want to go back to her. I want to dive into her and stay there forever. I need to touch her. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He was сlеаrlу joking, but thеrе were tіmеѕ that соuld асtuаllу bе a possibility. “Sо I hаvе a rеаdіng оbѕеѕѕіоn, you knеw thаt already.” It wаѕn’t like I had lіеd аbоut it. I wаѕ vеrу open аbоut bеіng a bооk geek to thе core.

Eventually Alex is able to tell me the town, and that it isn't too far from here, before both him and Alex leave me to rest. Not that I can find much...Nightmares haunt me. Nightmares of being kidnapped, meeting an enigmatic hunter with unspoken abilities. A King, a rebellion. These nightmares assault me so viciously, so vividly, I wake in the night in a sweat, gasping in panic. These aren't nightmares, they are memories.

It was already noon and Rose had long ago finished eating and was now in her room waiting for Mr. Evidence. She had called his number it rang but no one was picking up. She didn't want to knock on his door because she believed that if he wanted to see her, he will come to meet her in her room. She laid on her bed as she browse through the internet, searching for any new news about the ongoing economy and the situation of the country. After browsing through the internet, she got tired and decided to do something different. She stood from her bed and moved around the room to see if she could see anything to keep her busy even if it's a game. She didn't mind playing it alone. She walked towards

She'd been so disoriented when she woke up, she hadn't explored. Elena crossed to it and turned the handle. It opened. Not a closet. An office. Her breath caught. The room was smaller than the bedroom, but just as luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall, filled with leather-bound volumes in Italian, English, French. A massive mahogany desk dominated the space, its surface pristine except for a laptop, a crystal tumbler, and a single photograph in a silver frame. Elena stepped inside, her heart pounding. This was Rodrigo's space. She could feel it in the expensive whiskey, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air, the way everything was perfectly arranged with milita

"So now its my turn. I am not here just for the cake. So come on I wanna enjoy a show too." "Okay as You wish..!!" I never got too open with anyone but he was so different. I never let my gurads down in front of anyone but he was making me feel strange. I couldn't figure out my feelings then but I just articulate that it was just an attraction. He was actually too sweet and the gesture of cake and Vine on my Dad's birthday was a whole new level!! I didn't realize at that time that this attraction is going to be an addiction and obsession soon. I never imagined that I would fall for someone so easily....

and “What breaks first?” Adrian leaned against the desk, watching me flip through it. “You wrote about surrender in your essay on “The Monk”,” he said, reaching for the printed pages of my work. He tapped a paragraph with a red pen. “You said true obsession doesn’t destroy from the outside. It grows inside the ribs, wearing the shape of salvation until the host can no longer tell the difference.” He read it aloud in that velvet voice, and my nipples tightened painfully against my blouse. Hearing my own words in his mouth made me ache.

Then she reached for the notebook her parents had left her. Her eyes caught a particular phrase: "He who sleeps is not to be disturbed." She frowned, tracing the words with her finger. Her pulse quickened. Has this always been here? she wondered. Despite looking through the book for years, this was the first time she had noticed it. "I must have missed it," she whispered, trying to convince herself.

“Now? I probably drink until I forget. Or until I hate him enough to stop caring.” “That doesn’t sound healthy.” I let the silence settle between us. The bar’s dim lights painted shadows on the floor, and my buzz was just strong enough to make everything blur at the edges. I leaned forward again, fingers toying with the condensation on my glass. “You ever get so obsessed with someone,” I murmured, “that it’s not even about them anymore? It’s about how they make you feel. How they pull out the ugliest parts of you, and you still keep crawling back like a sick little dog looking for scraps.”