Obsession Romance Books Novels & Stories

The silence was heavy,something inside me snapped. “Oh fuck it,” I hissed, throwing my arms around his neck. Alexander kissed me hard. There was nothing soft about it. He lifted me up and carried me to the table by the window, pushing the lamp and a bottle of wine to the floor. Neither of us cared about the crash. He kissed me like he was starving. His hands were everywhere — my waist, my thighs, my back. The hunger in him felt stronger than before. Almost desperate. “I want to taste you,” he said against my mouth, voice low and rough.

“That’s not a problem. We have a long time together. If that bastard could make you feel something after everything he did to you, then I’m sure, I’ll make you fall for me. No matter how long it takes.” A shiver ran through her spine, as a mixture of fear and disgust bloomed in the pit of her stomach. “You’re sick.” She hissed. “So much so that you can’t tell the difference between love and… obsession.” “Love, obsession, limerence, they are all the same thing.” He told her. “It’s a desire that is so strong, that it can’t be suppressed. It’s the kind of feeling that can cause a person to do things that are otherwise deemed unreasonable and unacceptable.”

I lied. I built a career—construction firm, decent money, a house big enough to feel empty. I dated. I fucked. I tried to burn Miles out of my system with strangers who looked nothing like him. None of it worked. Every time I closed my eyes, it was his face I saw—older now, sharper cheekbones, fuller lips, that same shy sweetness still clinging to the edges. I told myself distance would kill the obsession. I was wrong.

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I replied, my eyes fell on the box Zemia had gifted me. “Are you okay Luna!.” Liam asked and sat at the same couch Zemia had sat on. I stared at him, he was good looking but Zemia was…. he was different. He is fascinating. Zemia has blue diamond-like eyes with something like fireflies flapping its wings inside it. I shocked my head when I realized I was fantasising about a man I just met, what’s up with me and men lately. First I met Marshal, my good Samaritan , Aiden the man of many dreams and now Zemia the sexy Demon.

An addiction. She was nothing but an addiction. Yet an intense addiction that has made its way in his blood, coursing through his veins and now there was no turning around. He had reached to the dead end of that addiction that despite wanting, he can't give up on that addiction. Reaching a point that he had accepted he was obsessed with her. That he has fallen into the depth of that obsession. Fallen completely. Insanely. Passionately. Desperately. And lastly, hopelessly.

Darius’s POV The rhythm of her sleep-fucked body beneath me is a song I could listen to for eternity, the soft, unconscious sounds she makes as I move inside her, the way her pussy clenches and releases in a slow, lazy dance that matches the pace I have set, the way her breath hitches when I push deeper, the way her fingers curl into the sheets as if even in her dreams she is holding on to something, holding on to me, and I feel a possessive satisfaction that is almost religious, a devotion to this moment, to this woman, to the bond that grows stronger with every thrust, every beat of our hearts, every mingled breath. I move slowly, deliberately, savoring the heat of her, the tightness of he

"We can't, Nick. You don't know the kind of man my father is. My internship will be cancelled. I'll never get to step outside. You'll never see me again." Nick turns quiet, and I know he's reconsidering. "Then I guess we won't tell him." He says finally. "I'm not letting you go so easily." His words warm my heart, making me smile. "So this is between us." I say. "Besides, I want to know what he wants. Like, why has he made me his target? Who is he? What does he want from me?" "Things like this stem from obsession." Nick answers in a strange voice. "I think he's obsessed with you for certain reasons. We just need to find out why."

The straw finally snapped between my fingers on the forty-third twist. There's a name for what I have: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Why I didn't tell Nico I have OCD I'll never know. Maybe it's because I'm keenly aware of how crazy I am. My main obsession is numbers. I count everything, how many twists it takes to break a straw or how many steps I take to and from class. My compulsion is having to touch things seven times to make everything all right. The anxiety on top of OCD was just a perk. "Oh my God, you've never been to a football game?" she asked incredulously. "That's a sacrilege at this school."

He weighed the book in his hand, not looking at the title but at me. ​"A good choice," he agreed, his voice dropping to a low purr. "Obsession is a fascinating thing, isn't it? It can drive a man mad, or it can make him feel utterly alive." He closed the distance between us just enough that I could smell the faint scent of his masculine body scent with his usual intense cologne. "And once a man is obsessed, he rarely lets go of the object of his desire, no matter the consequences." ​My breath caught in my throat because I knew he wasn't talking about Heathcliff.