Possesive Sex Novels & Stories

" Do you like it?" I mumbled down there, but I could still hear him clearly. " Yes! Don't stop". I repeated my previous words. After, he came back up and kissed my lips. He bites my lower lip and then touches my breast " Oh my god! I've always dreamt about having you all to myself ". He said in a shuddering voice. " Really?" " Now you have me" I said, quivering at his manly touch. He grabbed the condoms from his drawer and tried to put them on. I watched him open it and wear them on his dick.

This isn't making love and it isn't even sex, really. This is claiming and possession. Months of obsessive watching, desperate wanting and carefully controlled need finally unleashed all at once. Harvey fucks me against the alley wall with primal intensity—hard thrusts that drive me into the brick, his hand in my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my throat. "Mine," he growls against my neck with each thrust. "You're mine, Isabel. Not theirs but MINE." His teeth sink into my shoulder, hard enough to break skin, marking me with the same brutal possession as his cock.

I leaned in and kissed him—not the gentle, hesitant kisses we’d shared lately, but a kiss that was desperate, hungry, and full of all the truths I couldn't say out loud. ​For a heartbeat, he resisted, his body stiff with the remnants of his anger. Then, with a low growl that vibrated against my lips, he broke. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me so close I could feel the heat of him through the fabric. ​He lifted me onto the bed, his touch possessive and urgent, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of me before I walked out of his life. In the dark of the room, as the city lights blurred outside, I gave him everything. Every touch was an "I'm sorry," and every breath was an "I

Compliancy runs in my veins and is etched in my muscles. "She's a goddess." Alessio moves closer. "She represents a lot of things along with empowerment." Steps carefree and voice dry, he stops when he's standing so close to me that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. "Ask me more about her, Nicole." It's a demand rather than a statement and so utterly powerful that I find my cries quieting down and a small noise escapes my throat urging him to continue. "She was violent and bloodthirsty, defeated many demons that others couldn't."

“It’s not just sex anymore, baby. You’ve fucked with my head. I can’t stop thinking about you. I see you with that smug little smirk, walking around like you’re in control, and all I can think about is putting my collar around your neck and showing you who you really belong to.” Her breath hitches. Eyes wide. Lips parted. “You want to play with fire, sweetheart?” I ask, tilting her chin up. “Then know this, I don’t play fair. I don’t just fuck. I claim.” “You already have,” she whispers. And fuck me, that undoes something deep. I kiss her. It’s not gentle. It’s filthy and possessive and full of the war I’m losing every damn day she’s in this house. She moans into my mouth, claws at my shirt,

That was why we brought so many of them. I rubbed the back of my neck because I did think of one, but I was not certain how everyone would feel about it. “Yes. Just hear me out. We need something very believable that would make a scene. Possessiveness is a cornerstone of our species. We have two options. One is that I find someone flirting with you and blow up, or you find someone trying to flirt with me and blow up. However, for me to be so distraught to flee, it should be me finding one of you,” I said carefully.

I wouldn’t beg again. But God, the only thing holding my release was his cock. His lips brushed mine once more, softer this time, almost tender. “I will only stop to fuck you until I’m sure you’re bloated with my cum and my child is inside you again.” The possessiveness in his voice was primal. It didn’t sound like lust. It sounded like premium claiming. “You’re not allowed to speak unless I say otherwise,” he warned, punctuating his command by pinching my nipple again.

Primal. I wasn’t sure what that said about me — that I found his violence and dominance and possessiveness sexy and protective. But I didn’t care. Perhaps it was because he still regarded me as a person, as my own being. It wasn’t a possessiveness that owned, that commanded, but a possessiveness that cherished and consumed. It was a possession of equality — he was mine as much as I was his. And it was a mutual possession. I wanted everyone to know he belonged to me. And I’d never wanted that with anyone else.

His jaw is clenched tight, but it is not with displeasure, it is with an emotion I have never seen on his face, or maybe he’s never allowed me to see. Possession. Raw and deep and so damn dangerous. But instead of running away from it, I barge straight toward it. I bare my soul and body for it. I want it. His possessiveness. I want every last drop of it. “Fuck, Genevieve. Since when did you learn to say shit like that?” “Since you.” “Me?”

The dominant-submissive shift was swift and total. Hours blurred into a haze of relentless pleasure. They flipped him, rebound him face-down, and continued their assault. Mitchelle fucked him from behind with powerful thrusts while Mirabel sat on his face again. The hard, punishing rhythm pushed him to his limits. “You’re ours now,” Mirabel whispered possessively in his ear as she later took her turn riding him deep and slow, grinding every inch. “This isn’t just sex. This is ownership. Say it.” “I’m yours,” Michael gasped, voice cracking with overwhelming need.