Possessing Nothing Novels & Stories

He could feel his own restraint fraying, the need to claim her completely almost overpowering. "I'm going to wreck you, alright," he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "And I'm not going to stop until you forget your own name. Until all you know is me." He moved back up her body, his lips finding her neck once again. He nipped and sucked at her skin, marking her as his own, while his body pressed even closer to hers. His hands roamed over her body, touching and caressing every inch of her. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low, possessive whisper. "Every part of you. And I'm going to make damn sure you remember it."

“It’s normal to feel that way… as long as you don’t put Ryan on a pedestal. Because they’re both ugly people. Both of them.” I let his words settle as I poured myself another glass of wine. Then I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “Do you know her? Do you know Ryan? You speak like you know them very well.” He only shrugged, gave a faint smile, and took a sip of his whiskey, silent and unreadable. I didn’t press. “So anyway,” I said, more to the air than to him, “that’s me now. I have nothing. That’s what I just found out. I own nothing in my name. Nothing... Not money, not wealth, not a family... not love....”

"You think we don't know the rules? No money, no mercy. And you…You don't have *anything*." I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. They were right. I had nothing. No backup plan, no money, no Ryder to manipulate. My only option had been to ride this out until I could get my hands on his fortune, but now? Now I had nothing. I could feel my pulse quicken, the panic rising like bile in my throat. I had to think fast. "I'll get you the money, I swear—just—just give me a little more time. I have connections, people who owe me favors. I can—"

But I have never tasted a Null. Not yet. But soon. I'm due a new pet.

Something uncontrollable, something possessive. Something beautiful.

Then—nothing. ,

“I didn’t think I’d ever be the one saying that either.” I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms as I continued to stare at him. “What changed?” I asked. He exhaled slowly. “Losing everything,” he said. “It has a way of stripping you down to nothing. No status, no money, no distractions… just you and your mistakes.” His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “And when you’re left with nothing but yourself,” he continued, “you either face the truth… or you break completely.” I was quiet for a moment.

I could have been at the fair with a date, maybe a boyfriend… “So, that’s really everything you have on you? What kind of woman doesn’t carry a purse full of shit everywhere?” he asks as his confrontational nature returns. The warmth in my belly dissipates, and I cross my arms again. “Not everyone can afford a five-thousand-dollar Prada bag. It’s better to have nothing than have a knock-off.” I can’t see him well, but he scoffs as though he’s amused. “Wow, that’s a fucking weird excuse if I’ve ever heard one. The fact that you have nothing else is highly suspicious, I hope you know that.”

" Ungrateful bitch." I stared at the spot where the television used to be. I had sold it last week, along with the sound system and the Blu-ray player and the collection of classic films I had spent years assembling. The money had gone to the lawyers, and the lawyers had done nothing, and now I had no television and no sound system and no collection of films and no wife and no friends and no future. I had nothing. "Nothing," I said aloud. The word hung in the air like a verdict.