Obsessive Attachment Novels & Stories

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?

RIO POV “I thought you don’t let anyone into this room.” I mention when Dante leads me into his dark office. “Or have you finally gotten over your weird kink of not letting people touch your things?” Growing up, Dante had this weird possessiveness over his stuff, that he never let anyone, not even our mother nor Nonna, into his room, to the extent that he cleaned the room by himself. I strongly believed that he had killed people in there, since it was the only soundproof room in the house.

He looked so professional, so calm, which only made the secret thrumming inside me feel more illicit. “Ria, you aren’t a psychopath,” he said gently. “It’s actually quite normal to want to be near someone you like, or to keep tabs on them. However, it becomes an issue when it turns into a defining character trait for you. When you become truly obsessive with the following... that's different. You have to remember that sometimes, a person just needs their privacy.”

That was still better than her always trying to run away from him. He'd never thought of himself as someone who would get attached to other people. But when it came to Anathea, there was only one thought in his mind—if he couldn't have her, no one could. Anathea had no idea what he was thinking. All she knew was that his obsession was terrifying, but she had no way out. The gap between them was just too big. Whatever revenge he wanted to take, she wouldn't be able to handle it. And she couldn't dodge it either.

Always close by. constantly observing. Never getting close. never saying anything. Just watching. It was hard to ignore the pattern. My desk was piled high with pictures by midnight. And each and every one of them told the same tale. Harold had spent years observing Evelyn. long before she got married. long before she became successful. long before she came back. I had a bad taste in my mouth after realizing this. Because obsession didn't just go away over time. It expanded. It changed. It got risky.

He does scare me but I refuse to show my fear. “And what if that obsession of yours will fade?” I contended, rage illuminating my entire being like a bright white light. I know how obsession works very well, but once that phase will be over. Then, I’m good as nothing but a toy he’s done playing with. And what next? He’ll discard me like I didn’t even exist in the first place. Obsession is a dangerous thing. It can make a person do anything, and by “anything,” I mean the most unbelievable of behaviors.

“That’s not why I’m upset.” So why the hell are you making me loose my wits? He studied the floor for a second, then looked at me with a look I couldn't decipher. “You ran at him like you were he’d poof into the air if you didn’t,” he said quietly. Then he added, slower and more carefully, “And that wasn’t just relief, Isla.” Guess what? I decided to play dumb. “What was it then?” “Attachment,” he said simply. “The kind that forms when you go through something intense with someone.”

I always knew Alex is a smart dude, but I never really tapped into his knowledge. “Now Alex, what is obsession?” He cleared his throat once more bad went on. “Obsession is a constant or repetitive analysis of something to a point where it becomes very unhealthy, one way to know it's obsession is ; it fuels your ego, it fuels your desires in a dark way, and it starts to become unhealthy, you can't seem to let them go, but love, is the strength to let go because you love them and know they don't owe you anything not even their life!”

Since I met her, every slight movement, every stare, every man who looks at her too long triggers something ancient in me something that shifts under my skin like a creature stretching after sleep. And Alina Miroshnikova… She is the only thing that stirs it into something sharper than instinct. Not softness, Not warmth, Not love but Something worse. A fixation? Or a compulsion. A need threaded through every violent impulse I’ve ever had. If they wanted a diagnosis, they should have written this in their little files: “Subject presents with obsessive, possessive ideation toward a specific individual, accompanied by heightened aggression response and impaired inhibitory control. Risk of extrem

Dante finally asked. The man’s eyes shifted toward him. “Emotion.” Aruna frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.” “It does,” her mother whispered. Everyone looked at her. She swallowed slowly. “The system was designed to create resistance against control. But emotional attachment creates unpredictable escalation.” Marco blinked. “You mean feelings.” “Yes.” “That’s the terrifying flaw?” “No,” the man said quietly. “Attachment itself isn’t the flaw.” A pause. “Obsession is.” Silence.