Novel & Cerita Possessive Male Romance Novels

He paused, puffing out another cloud like he was thinking of the right word to use. “I find it quite curious when someone breaks the rules. And you,” he said, stopping in front of Ronan who looked like he just pissed his pants “didn’t just break my rules, you took what is mine.” His voice dripped with cold venom and I felt myself shrinking into the wall I was bound to. Dante trailed his knife from Ronan’s chest to his navel, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. “Tell me, was it her eyes, her boobs, or her round ass, that filled you with courage?” He asked, sinking his knife deeper.

Sharing. --- PAIGE I've never felt anything like this. Three men. Three different rhythms. Three different ways of loving me. Haruto is fire. Intense. Desperate. He kisses me like he's been waiting six years. Marcus is earth. Steady. Warm. He touches me like I'm something precious. Julian is air. Quiet. Everywhere. His hands find places I didn't know I wanted to be touched. "More," I breathe. "More what?" Julian asks.

She was fit to be called a living Aphrodite, he was just glad Clara was not as flirtatious as the goddess herself, his possessive ego would never allow it. Then, if one thought of it, the two couple really did resemble Aphrodite and Ares. Clara, a beautiful, goddess like woman, attractive, gentle, and motherly like, and she did have a decently high sexual appeal, but not overwhelmingly so. Raphael on the other hand was slightly hot tempered and possessive, just like Ares, he was not the most agreeable person on his position, although he did attract quite the number of women, yet he was deeply in love with Clara, and he had the yearning to fully have her for his own. What would that make Core

He said, breathing heavily, and waited for her answer. She nodded, closed her eyes, and the next thing that happened in history. – Please support my new novel. It's a Fantasy Romance– Female Lead with a different, intriguing twist. I hope you'll like it, and reviews are highly appreciated. Thank you and keep safe always butterflies! Love y'all.

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

“It’s good to know I have no competitor because I hate sharing what belongs to me. Rightfully” I know how possessive I sound now, but I can’t care less. My mate just informed me I’m all alone in the race to win her heart, body, and soul. I lick my lips, my vision getting filled with an intense cloud of lust that rakes my entire body. Fuck! ‘I guess…’ Oh, baby sugar. You’re mine to own, dominate, and feast on to my utmost pleasure. The innate desire for this daring woman has a thrilling shiver race down to my groin and I press my thighs together, loving every feel of it.

Am I in over my head? And yet, despite the unease, a part of her—a twisted, foolish part—was drawn to him. His possessiveness, his dominance, even his anger—it all reminded her of the brooding, dangerous men in the romance novels she devoured late at night. The ones who burned the world down for the women they loved. Hardin. Massimo. The Italian mafia bosses who were equal parts terrifying and irresistible.

“ Saying ‘thank you ’ is not enough for what you did for me last night. You gave yourself to me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. You gave me a precious gift.” I put my hands in his hair. Stroke my fingers down it, and on to his cheek and chin. His jaw is boyishly strong. Sexy in the low light. And just about as irresistible as the rest of him. I return his storm of kisses with my own. I kiss his chest and shoulders, relishing their broadness. Their strength. How manly they are while also being tender and sheltering. “You were a very good boy,” I whisper, afraid of the emotions

“Answer me.” Her brown eyes flashed with defiance. “And if I do?” A sharp, possessive anger clawed at my insides. I reached out, my fingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up to mine. “You forget, Isabella—you’re a married woman.” She let out a dry laugh, stepping back, breaking my hold. “Oh? Now my marriage matters to you?” I didn’t like the mocking edge in her voice. “I don’t like my things being touched by others.”

"If you don't want me to go near any female and apply the same rule on you as well. Because if I find you close to any male mother than my liking then you will find with other females more than your liking." . I gasped at his threat. And people say that we werewolves are possessive for our mates. . "Promise me that you will maintain distance with every male.", He insisted. "Promise me that." . I frowned at him, surprised by his possessive nature. The way he was asking to promise this stupid thing made me wonder why was he behaving so strangely? The desperation in his voice was hard to ignore. I was not among those women who would let any male come close to me. Did he consider characterless?