Obsession Romance Novels Novels & Stories

It was scorching like a flame and if auras could be tasted, hers would definitely be bitter. I shuddered, walking over to the first aisle to check it out. The first book that caught my attention was Blood, Pawns and Obsession. It was a dark romance by Rylie Martin. I had one of my projects on hold because I wanted to read this book and get into the head of the psychotic male lead, so I would understand him better and be able to execute my plotline to my taste. The grin on my face unconsciously widened, and I brought the book to my nose, sniffing it in.

"So why waste your precious time on me? Shouldn't you be trying to seduce Dante faster? Working harder to get him to marry you so he can finally let go of me?" Victoria gasped. Isabelle's face went white, then red. Elena moved closer, her voice dropping to cold and dangerous. "I will not let you or Victoria walk over me anymore. I am not pathetic. I am not a loser." She tilted her head, her smile sharpening. "And I will not fight over a man you two are passing around like a joint at a college party. Friends indeed." The implication hung in the air, thick and toxic. The suggestion that Isabelle and Victoria had both slept with Dante, that they were trading him between them like some sordid ga

t and likely kill Johnny himself, not Layla, with her gossipy nature and sharp eyes, not the old men with their rambling stories and leering eyes that seemed to miss noth- ing. It was their secret, a dangerous, intoxicating !re that they fed in stolen mo- ments and couldn't seem to extinguish, no matter how much trouble it promised, no matter how many warnings they gave themselves. Tonight, it felt even more dangerous than usual, the air thick with unspoken longing, heavy with the weight of their shared secret. She could feel it thrum- ming in her veins, a restless energy that made her hands tremble slightly as she wiped down the bar,

“Let’s just work on the project. Romeo and Juliet, right?” He groaned. “God, not that one. Can we pick anything else? Wuthering Heights, maybe? Something where they destroy each other with passion and rage instead of poison and teenage melodrama.” I smiled despite myself. “You’re oddly poetic for a guy who looks like he doesn’t believe in love.” He leaned closer, the grin gone. “I don’t. But I believe in obsession.” Something in my stomach twisted. Dangerous. That’s what he was. All warning signs, and I was already ignoring them.

We resumed our initial sitting arrangement, and slowly, Anna strode toward April, and before April could say a word, Anna crossed her leg over and sat on April, her lips crashing against hers without a moment’s pause—hungry and unrelenting. Their tongues collided, twirling, battling, seeking dominance, plunging deep into each other’s mouths as if swallowing air would never be enough. Anna’s hands roamed, sneaking under April’s bra, cupping, teasing, massaging her breasts with firm, eager fingers. April moaned, melting into the touch, arching slightly, pressing hard back against Anna. Anna kissed down April’s throat, her tongue trailing wet lines, and then tugged April’s bikini top down just

“I… I don’t want you to stop. Not ever.” His hands went to my waist, pulling me close. “Good,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “Because I’m obsessed with you. Completely. And I will show you exactly what that obsession means tonight.” Back at the penthouse, we didn’t wait. Every kiss, every touch, every whisper became a battle of possession and surrender. Sebastian’s hands memorized me, claimed me, burned into me with the intensity of his obsession. I responded in kind, trembling under his control, craving every moment, every edge of danger and desire.

Lena asked, though her tone suggested she was already working through the possibilities. "Because he's obsessed," I replied, thinking about the photos, the note, the pattern of behavior we'd been observing for weeks. "He doesn't want to run from me anymore, he wants to confront me. He wants to possess me, reclaim me, make me choose him over whatever life I've been building." "That's insane," Lena said flatly. "Yes," I agreed. "But it's also predictable. Obsession makes people irrational, makes them take risks they normally wouldn't.

Benita said flatly. “You look beautiful,” Rafe murmured, stepping closer. She stepped back. Holding onto Tana’s arm, she descended the stairs. Damien waited downstairs. The scent of white roses filled the room, it felt too clean, too staged. When Benita descended the stairs, something in his chest fractured. She looked regal. Furious. Unbroken. A challenge. Their eyes met. And in that moment, Damien knew. Buying her hadn’t satisfied him. It had ruined him.

“Tell me… why did you tie me down to that stupid human?” Isis tilted her head, her purple-and-gold-flecked eyes glimmering with amusement. A small, incredulous laugh escaped her lips. “Not even asking how I am after seeing me in six hundred years?Fine, is she not up to your standards? would you have preferred a different bride” she said, her tone teasing but sharp. Anubis’ jaw tightened, his anger barely contained. “This isn’t a game. I demand answers!” She smirked, gliding closer, the black-sleeved dress accentuating her figure with every movement. “Oh, I’ll give you answers… in due time. But patience, my dear Anubis, seems to be a virtue you’ve never quite mastered.”

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