Possessive Series Mga Nobela at Kwento

Mason created an image of himself inside the hot walls of his partner. “I will take her day and night until she produces a considerable number of pups for me. My days of daydreaming for a glorious mate are nil. Whenever she needs to be punished, I’ll make her lips sing on my cock for pleasure.” Maddox grinned, at least somewhat content that he had finally found his mate after years of searching.

I muttered and she smiled before turning around and kissing my lips. "I love you too Ethan" I will never get used to hearing her say that It gave me goosebumps and butterflies everything she said it. It felt like I was a highschooler with her but I didn't mind. All for her She became mine to posses the day she walked into that door with my parents She was my possession We have finally come to the end of this book 😁😁😁 It was very fun writing about these two characters.

It was delivered not in a shout, but in a low, resonant, utterly certain whisper that carried the weight of absolute truth. “You’re mine. That’s who.” The words were not possessive in a romance, cliche way. They were possessive the way a king lays claim to land. The way a master sculptor lays claim to the clay. It was a declaration of creation, of fact, of sole ownership.

It had me wondering what had happened to him in the past to make him like this. I couldn’t help it if his aloof qualities made him that much more appealing to me though. I smiled at his kind words. This must mean he approves of me. Good. “I really do care for him.” I said back. “I know, I can tell. You and him have a rather strange relationship.” He said, and then he paused for a moment. Then he kept going. “I am a very possessive person. When something is mine, it is fully mine. I’m not one to share.” He said. I fully understood this. I couldn’t imagine his eyes ever actually wandering.

The next time I see you looking at another man like that, it won't be nice. My brain is telling me to be scared, but at the same time, the sick, twisted side of me is loving this. I love a man that is possessive over his woman, a man that makes the world know that she belongs to him and no one else. "I'm sorry sir, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" Mr Cross makes a sound that is almost inhuman while he glares at me. Again he is gripping my arm, to pull me off to only he knows where this time.

In a minute he can calm her down and the very next minute he can make her breathless "Good. And you are exactly doing that." He said and hung the call-up. She was baffled. She could not understand the reason for which he didn't permit her to go, unaware to her, it was because of his possessive nature toward her. He didn't want to share her with ANYONE! He wanted himself to be the center of her thoughts. He wanted every moment of her life to be filled with his memories. He was extremely possessive of her. He desired to imprint this in her mind that she is his and no one else. And this was his mission until there rukhsati to make her completely his.

“I’m doing this because I won’t let anyone disrespect what’s mine." Isabella felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She didn’t want to read too much into his words, but there was a possessiveness there that she hadn’t noticed before. Something that went beyond business. She didn’t want to confront it now, though. Not with everything else hanging in the air. “Mine?” she echoed quietly, almost to herself. It wasn’t lost on her that the term felt far too final, far too possessive for what they were—or maybe it was exactly the right word.

"I will miss you." "I will miss that sweet pussy of yours." he whispers tracing the lining of my panties "Adrian," I hit his chest, and he shrugs "What can I say?" "Your pussy loves me." his tongue licks my neck before he nips "I love my marks on you." My eyes narrow "Do you know that you are a possessive bastard." "Still, you can't deny that you love me, darling," he says cockily with a smirk. "Darling, don't you know I love you because of your money/" My fingers feel his abs as my hands roam everywhere on his muscular chest.

“That’s the point, Cassie. I don’t want Rowan. I don’t want Liam. I want to know I can have them—or at least pieces of them—whenever I choose. The power. The control. That’s the fun.” Cassie exhaled sharply, almost laughing from disbelief. “You’re insane. You don’t even care about love, do you?” “Love?” I smirked. “Love is boring. Possession is better. People fall in and out of love all the time, but when you possess something —when you take it, when it’s yours—it doesn’t matter how anyone else feels. Look at this bag. Piper would probably cry if she knew Rowan bought this for me. That’s worth more than love.”

“—will never make me feel like I am.” Her pulse thundered in her ears as his warning hung in the air, every word dripping with possessive menace.