Primal Attraction Novels & Stories

"I didn't mean to run into you." "I-I... It's okay." I stammered, my hands curling into fists, clutching his shirt. I don't know what it was about him, but everything in my body and soul was screaming for this man. While I wanted to blame the alcohol, I knew this attraction was primal. As crazy as it sounded. It was like love at first sight. And by the intense, adoring, heated look in his gaze, he felt the same way.

He dropped his hands and I immediately felt the absence. Even if his touch had been light, my skin felt like it was burning. Tristan looked up at me. He looked into my eyes and I saw it. Hunger. I felt it. The full moon was out and the bond had never felt so real. Maybe it was the absence of the necklace finally letting me be my full self. Or maybe it was the acceptance but I wanted him. The attraction was primal, it was raw, it was natural.

“I felt it. But I don’t feel it now. Now I just feel empty. Hollow. Fake. Like I was pretending to be something I’m not. And I’m tired of pretending.” The Primal took a step toward the gathered crowds. Hunger clear in its posture. In its movement. In the darkness spreading from its form. Lena stepped between them. Small. Silver. Absolutely determined. “If you want to consume them, you go through me first.” The Primal looked at her. Something like regret in its ancient eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. You taught me kindness. Showed me alternatives. But the hunger is stronger than gratitude. Stronger than memory. Stronger than choice.”

“You don’t have other relatives who’ll help?” Natalie was about ready to scream at this guy. Not only was he poking at a very raw wound, but her body was reacting to him in a way that deeply unsettled her. Her fingers itched to touch him, to comb through his short dark hair, to find out if it was as silky as it looked. The primitive hunger crushing her had her insides churning, and there was throbbing happening in some very interesting places. There had to be something wrong with her if she was attracted to a psycho. But strangely, she didn’t feel in danger with him.

"If I'm no longer pure, maybe he'll reject the deal. Either way, I refuse to let my first time be with a monster." My eyes scanned the club until they locked on a figure at the bar. The sight of him made my breath catch in my throat. He leaned against the counter with casual confidence, but there was nothing casual about his presence. Broad shoulders stretched his black henley, the fabric clinging to defined muscles underneath. His jaw looked like it had been carved from stone, strong and angular, with just enough stubble to look dangerously sexy. From his profile, I could see a thin scar tracing down his cheekbone, adding character rather than detracting from his beauty. But it was more tha

I snatch the ball from the ground, throwing it ahead of us again. Rising, I continue towards the plaza. You’re letting physical attraction make a fool of you, I tell myself. Of course he’s attractive. He’s a were. Ferocious physical attraction is part of the package. Moping about doesn’t mean he’s genuinely remorseful—it just means he knows how to use the appearance to manipulate people. People like you who’ve already fallen for it especially. Besides, Sean dulls in comparison to Ian.

I watched Jake talk about his relationship with Jennet and all I wanted to do was to absorb all his pain through a warm embrace. Attracted to him as I was, this was an impossible situation for me to find myself. All I’d do was remember that Jake was exactly the sort of man I had no intention of being attracted to, and that might just be enough to nullify the physical awareness.

Deciding to trust him with my answer, and hoping his ego wouldn’t spontaneously combust, I said, “I want to fight this attraction.” “Ah, that.” His grip on my arms lessened, and he looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure attraction is something you can fight,” he said eventually, and my heart dropped. That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. “Attraction is chemicals, hormones, pulse rates, and heartbeats. It’s a pretty face and a sexy voice, a quick wit and a beautiful body. It can be any of things, or none of them. It’s unique to each individual. How do you fight yourself?”

A few of my explanations made her squeeze her thighs together, particularly when I was discussing Primal Doms/Prey and when I was discussing Sadist Doms. “Okay, that all makes sense to me. So now I need to know, since you brought this up, what kind of Dom are you?” “I’m a Primal Dom, a Hunter, I enjoy the chase. For me, it’s about exploring the basest part of who we are as a species. Acting on my urges and impulses, letting go of being civilized and following what my instincts tell me. I enjoy the fight to gain control and the fight to gain dominance over my prey. If you ran from me right now, being as turned on as we are, I will give over to my instinct and chase you. You will be my prey an

"Take it all." He began a punishing, rhythmic assault that had the old floorboards groaning under us. Every thrust was a statement of ownership. I watched his face—the set of his jaw, the way the muscles in his neck strained with every movement. He wasn't being gentle, but he was being honest. This wasn't a romance; it was a biological necessity, a primal bond that was being forged in the dark. "Mavros... please," I sobbed, my vision dissolving into white light.