Obsessive Stalker Novels & Stories

The other slipped under her blouse, thumb circling her nipple until she whimpered into his mouth. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with obsession. “You can lie to them about the perfect family. You can lie to yourself about how much you hated every second of my cock inside you.” His hand moved lower, palming her through her skirt, rubbing slow, firm circles over her clit. “But your body knows the truth. You’re already wet again, aren’t you?” Lila bit her lip hard to stifle a moan, hips rocking once against his hand before she caught herself. “Someone could walk in—”

Running from danger only made me want him more. After Lena’s slip up I knew we could not sit still any longer. John picked me up early the next morning and we drove to a quiet coffee shop on the edge of the city to start digging into the stalker ourselves. “We cannot trust anyone right now,” John said as we sat in a back booth. “Not even my own team. I pulled some old contacts and found out the black car from the other night is registered to a shell company linked to Kane.”

His knees buckle and drop to the ground. The media and police call me silenzio, while the others just call Silenzio. I'm a serial killer and I work for the country's most notorious and dangerous dark Italian organization known as The obsidian Syndicate. I work in the organization merely to quench my blood thirst after the unfortunate incident that occurred in my life which has scarred me and turned me brutal, I was given several therapy sessions but none ever worked to bring me back to the man I used to be before the incident.

I shout, the numbness that surrounded and protected me now starting to crack. “Miss, it doesn’t take a lot to get these kinds of stalkers going. Sometimes it can be something as innocent as a friendly hello, a smile, passing on the street or even seeing your picture somewhere. They build this obsession in their head and this entire fictional world that they believe is real and think you’re aware of. I may not know who is doing this, but I do know it’s not your fault,” asserts the officer. Maybe he’s not entirely desensitized as I thought.

“I like knowing you want to see me.” “You don’t understand,” he growled, pressing into me from behind while I fumbled to unlock my door. “This feeling is not normal. Or natural. I haven’t even known you a week. How can I become so attached so fast? That’s borderline stalker behavior, isn’t it?” “Well… Stalkers are unwanted, for one thing. And I’m actually a fan of whatever this is you’re experiencing, so… That suggestion’s off the table. Obsession, on the other hand—”

PROLOGUE What does it feel like to experience the sensation of being stalked? Is it as if every move you make is being recorded, and you are being watched at every step? How far do you believe an obsession can lead someone? What do you think is the boundary of obsession? Can it result in dangerous situations for anyone who comes close to the object of obsession, or even touches them? Doesn’t the thought of being stalked sound terrible, terrifying, and scary? Unfortunately, that is what happened to me.

It felt like he was reading an adventure story except that, here, he was not a reader, but one of the characters-the suffering protagonist probably. His stalker was the villain here. "You fucking undermined me, but I'm sure you have come to your senses now." The stalker said again, "If you make any more funny moves, I am going to catch you, and torture you severely. I have got all your life under watch, right here before me. All your life in a computer."

Dakota POV I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, watching her wash my cum off her face. She turns me on in unreal ways. I want to own her body. I want to be deep inside her pussy. The thoughts I have of her are not typical. She is my obsession. She cleans her face and walks to me, standing in the doorway of her bathroom. “What do you want to do to me now, stud?” Tonya asks me. The thoughts that are going through my mind are wild and machinist. “I want to take you to your bedroom,” I say to her.

Damn, I didn't ask to play! I am stashed behind the kitchen curtains, and I watch the show, and I like what I see. A beautiful woman that beauty has not left by the side of the road. She is wearing a yellow dress. Excess of coquetry? Need to be seen and admired over and over again? It seems like it is working just fine. I see her. She reminds me of femininity, and chills run through down my spine without being able to refrain them. They go too fast for me, just like my thoughts. I find it hard to focus on anything other than this woman. I do not know her. She doesn't see me from the top of the third floor, and yet I spy on her like a teenager would observe a classmate from the corner of his

I asked for confirmation of my thought, my whole body was uncontrollably shaking. He looked at me, heaved a deep sigh. He seemed to have calmed down. He held my wrists, removing my hands from his face. "You know I've always been stalking you?" He asked rhetorically. "And, I know your stupid plan." He smirked playfully. "Are you crazy?" I hollered in a partial astonishment. I kind of knew that Justin was stalking me so it wasn't much of a big deal to me again but I had to show my disagreement even when I knew that it didn't matter to Justin.