Sinful Obsession Novels & Stories

“And clench that sinful cunt around me.” I obeyed, moaning the words over and over as he used me. He pulled my hair, choking me lightly with his rosary beads while pounding me. The contrast of the holy symbols against our filthy fucking sent me spiraling into another orgasm. Father Elias flipped me onto my back again, hooking my legs over his shoulders and driving even deeper. “I’m addicted,” he confessed hoarsely, sweat dripping from his brow. “Your body is my new religion. I’ll burn in hell for this… but I’ll fill you every day until then.”

He pulled back to maintain the intense eye-contact, seeking any sign of lies, but where there was none, he trembled. Not from fear or from heartbreak. But, possessiveness. A strong, uncontrollable one. “Cannot breathe, huh?” The sapphire in his eyes darkened, replaced by a void of absolute, unhinged obsession he no longer bothered to conceal either. “Let it ache, then,” he growled, his fingers gripping my jaw in a commanding force, forcing me to witness the chaos he had chosen himself. “Because Dorian is absolutely right. I am obsessive and extremely selfish to you. And I will never, ever apologize for it.”

“Yes.” “You knew I was going to research you and prepare to betray you.” “Yes.” “And you hired me anyway.” “Because you’re the only person I’ve ever met who doesn’t need me to survive. You’d survive without me. You’d survive without anyone.” He reached up and touched her face like he was remembering what skin felt like. “And the moment I realized that, I understood I was going to lose my mind if you left.” She understood, in that moment, what obsession actually meant. It wasn’t passion. It wasn’t love in any traditional sense. It was the recognition that someone could exist without you and choosing to make them your reason to exist anyway.

Now he had to rely on something else to keep the one he loved beside him. Even by force. Even if that meant binding them with a magical contract. Even if that meant placing chains around their neck. Even if that meant locking every door and every window. So tell me, dear reader... If you were the one who had been wronged, would you forgive the one who hurt you... Even if they loved you? Even if they were willing to literally die if you asked them to? Would you accept becoming the victim of their obsession... Their possessiveness... Their twisted love?

He was the one letting me do as I pleased. Possessive and dominating. This intensity should have made me scared. His obsession should have turned on every alarm in my head but it fucking didn't. My core clenched and cried more, begging for something forbidden. I craved more, I needed more than just the sparks from his lips. More than just his tongue teasing my tongue like he was fucking my mouth. I needed to be touched I wanted him to show me how only he could make me undone in ways no one can. His obsession wasn’t my burden; it was my favourite sin. The one I returned to every time I swore I’d quit

I didn't care about anything except how good he made me feel, and I screamed his name so loud not minding if it disturbed people in the basement dozen of floors below. As I was still quaking in the wake of my mind blowing orgasm, he was lapping it up. All of my juices were his to devour, bought with his obsession. He kissed and teased my flesh before he finally pulled away. "That's my pussy, my dinner from now on, you hear me, Eva?" He growled so commandingly as he stripped off his white shirt, revealing a sculpted chest, with pronounced pecs and chiseled abs. Such a gorgeous specimen of masculinity, and I hadn't a doubt that it too was for me. All part of the obsessive snare laid to catch m

Nicklaus who was wordlessly watching his every action had actually understood one thing very clearly that now it was impossible to stop him from tainting that innocent soul with his sin . A deviously evil smirk crept on the face of that voracious demon. He fisted his wounded palm , turning the wound more deep. Blood started dripping from his closed fist but he remained unfazed. His gaze turned satisfied by witnessing that inhuman act and now he was wanting his only cure. Those azure eyes owner to be captured in his forbidden cage of obsession. "SERA… . "

Pretty lies instead of the ugly truth staring them in the face. Cole tilts his head, studying the painting again. Something shifts in his expression—curiosity mixed with something darker. "So what do you see?" My jaw flexes. Heat crawls up my spine just thinking about it. "Obsession," I say. "That sick, beautiful addiction where you'd rather suffocate than let go. They're smiling while the ropes cut deeper. That's not love—that's needing someone so fucking bad you don't care if it destroys you both."

And what had I done? Dragged half-naked women into my study like some jealous fucking idiot trying to prove a point. My chest tightened violently. This wasn’t strategy anymore, it wasn’t control, and it wasn’t even about the bond now. This was obsession. Ugly, possessive, desperate obsession, and for the first time since all of this started, I couldn’t lie to myself about it anymore.

"I have spent my life making sure you are my only obsession.A reflection will not replace me. Look at me, Ivy—see me. Even here, in the middle of this nightmare, I want you to remember who owns the heart that’s beating so frantically in your chest." The humming intensified, a ghostly, feminine melody that seemed to leak from the very wallpaper. Dante’s obsession flared into a fever. He needed to overwrite the lullaby with the sound of his own name. He needed to prove, right here in the center of their enemies' design, that his possessiveness was a force of nature that no "Red String" could restrain. He pushed Ivy back against the heavy, lace-covered bed—the bed that was a replica of her girl