Obsessively Yours Novels & Stories

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.

“Because you said he ran from Beth and ran straight to you. He was confused, fighting something. He wants you everywhere, but is it you he’s obsessed with, or is it the escape? The forbidden thrill?” Maya added, more cautiously, “Yeah, Reinna. You said he’s possessive. That’s a red flag. Does he love you, or does he just love the control and the amazing sex you give him? Because if he was fighting it so hard, maybe he’s still fighting the idea of falling in love with his step-sister, and the love he confessed is really just the crazy lust.” The words hit me like a physical punch. I felt all the blood drain from my face.

My jaw clenched. Mira leaned back; her voice calm and dreamy. "All night long, I thought about him." She laughed again. "And now? I believe in love at first sight." I stared at her, mute. This lady—this pathetic, manipulative lady—stood before me, confessing that somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, she had developed this pretty sick obsession for Alexander,my man. One measured breath came, then the next. "You're delusional ," I said, freezing her in place with my glare. "This conversation never took place. You are going to respect my father, and we are both going to pretend you never said all this."

"I want to devour you, do you fucking get it?" More and more heat swamps me, a current carrying away my reservations. What feels right is obvious. It's this man. It's his devotion...and yes, even his obsession. It's calling forth my own and making it expand, whispering, you will be obsessed with him, too. Maybe you already are. "Yes. I get it."

Selena then decided to go back inside. "What's with the partnership with Pixie? Can you handle the problem?" Henry tailed Selena and asked. Selena stopped abruptly. Inside the office, Joey scanned the QR code on the massager's packaging. The brand's official website popped up on the phone. It was a foreign, imported brand that cost several thousand dollars. She browsed the website and put down her phone. Judging from Henry's straightforward personality, he did not seem like someone who would devise an intricate plan.

“If you're absolutely right, I'm a committed man, I shouldn't be doing this, don't worry about money, you don't owe me anything, feel at home” Andy runs out of there, he felt ashamed, he was violating all his values, he was against anything that disrespected a relationship, a marriage, or any belief, he was very correct. But Camille aroused all kinds of bad thoughts in him, and when he became obsessed with something, there was nothing to get it out of his head, and that was what he was feeling for Camille, an obsession.

Any f**king thing. No girl can humiliate him and then go scot-free.

His arm wrapped around my waist, “I work better when I know exactly where you are and what you’re doing.” The dark possession in his voice spread warmth through my chest like honey. I was so fucked. In every sense of the word. “That sounds obsessive,” I said. “It is.” He pressed his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply. “Everything about you makes me obsessive. I used to be able to focus for hours. Now I can’t go twenty minutes without wondering what you’re doing. If you’re comfortable. If you need something. It’s fucking maddening.” “Poor you,” I said, but I was smiling. “Sounds terrible. The big bad mafia boss, brought to his knees by a pregnant woman who can’t stop eating pickles dipped in

I could not comprehend how her ex could have betrayed her. I stepped closer, unbuttoning my shirt with measured care. She reached toward my trousers, her cold, hard nipple brushing the warm skin beneath my chest. I leaned into her, lips meeting hers in a long, lingering kiss. Her hand circled the back of my neck; mine held her waist, drawing her closer. The room seemed to shrink around us, the noise from the club downstairs fading.