Novel & Cerita Stockholm Syndrome Romance Books

The rug was a lost cause, and so was I. Ava traced lazy circles on my stomach. “Still catching the morning train?” I laughed, raw. “Changed my plans. Indefinitely.” Ethan pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Good. We’re just warming up.” Liam’s hand slid between my thighs, teasing. “Chapter two starts at dawn.” I closed my eyes, sated and aching and already wet again. The lodge smelled of sex and pine and possibility. Outside, the mountain stood silent. Inside, three bodies curled closer, ready to write the next scene on my skin.

I blurted curtly, peering intently into his eyes as he stared back at me. Slowly, he nodded and exhaled heavily. "I really wish it was a vampire girl that you saved from being raped. You have come across many in dangerous situations of both rape and assault, and you ignore them and walk away." He sighed, and every single word from his mouth was just pouring down like heavy rainfall inside my head. I closed my eyes tight, trying to shut away his voice, but I couldn't. Instead, they were echoing, and I was feeling every damn truth in them. Was it too obvious that I was feeling something special and different for that wolf girl?

Since she whispered my name like a prayer over and over again I braced one forearm against the doorframe, hips punching forward into my fist as I worked myself in long, punishing strokes. The smell of her pussy was still thick against my nose, God, it was obscene how good she smelled, how right. My other hand cupped my balls, squeezing just enough to make my vision spark. She didn’t remember. My psychiatrist’s voice echoed in the back of my skull, calm and clinical: “Elias, this fixation is trauma response. The accident fractured her memory, not your connection. What you’re feeling is a form of retroactive Stockholm syndrome, you’re the one who can’t let go after what happened. You need to r

Calmly, he continued, “If you finished all of Carl Johan Vallgren’s books, you should try Karin Fossum’s ‘He Who Fears the Wolf’. It is about a man who escaped a mental institution. You will find it very interesting.” Silje couldn’t tell what he meant by this comment, but she didn’t show her confusion. She replied easily, “Well, right now, I am more interested in finishing this date than reading mystery books. If you lend me the book though, I will read it.” “You’ll like it. I guarantee it, because you and I have similar tastes. You don’t realize it, but I know it to be true. We are very similar.” “We have similar tastes? Really?” She blinked at him and took a piece of steak slowly into her

Marissa Okay! It’s settled. I am crazy! I have that thing, whatever it is called, when you fall for your kidnapper. I open my laptop to search for the syndrome. Stockholm syndrome… I huff at my stupidity. How can I fall for a man that threatens my parents' lives? Who says I can choose between marrying him or ending up at a brothel? Sure, he is hot. The hottest man I have ever seen. That dark hair and those dark eyes. So different from me with my light complexion. And those strong arms around me, and big strong hands.

His darting eyes scanning her exposed skin like a predator ready to hunt. "I am here to help you as your therapist." Those caring mercury eyes looking for a single ray of hope. "Then help me to smudge your scarlet lips all over my C****" * Slow burn * Erotic * Dark romance * Mafia romance A story of lust, love, betrayal, and loyalty. Read the book in next chapter.

------------------------------------------ TRIGGER WARNING This book contains scenes of torture, raw erotic content, and SUBTLE references to pedophilia (Chapter 1). This is not your typical romance novel. It dives deep into themes of WAR, LUST, DARK OBSESSIONS, EXPLICIT S3X SCENES AND GRUESOME MURDERS. This book is slow paced. It is a slow burn. If you’re here solely for the steamy scenes, then you're gonna have to wait till chapter 25.

I will lose my mate, but I’m sure that’s precisely what Thomas wanted. I hate myself, and I hate that my wolf has abandoned me. All I want is to go home, but I feel as though I have Stockholm Syndrome. Though I want to leave, I’m scared to be without Thomas. I hate that he forces me into sexual acts, but my body has started to crave his touch, even if he can’t bring me to orgasm. I like to think that my mind is still clinging to my mate and won’t allow me to fully enjoy another man’s touch.

She was sick, having spent so much time with him that she had developed Stockholm syndrome, making her believe she had fallen in love. Tiodor stood still, waiting for Libia to continue speaking, but she didn’t. “You’d better say everything exactly as I told you,” he ordered. She nodded. “In three days, you’ll be back home,” he informed her before leaving the room. A lump formed in her throat. In her mind, she repeated that this was the right thing, that once again, her need for affection had made her believe things that weren’t real, that he wasn’t a good man.

She strides into any room and tilts the world off its axis, gliding through my house as though she owns the deed while daring me to push her out. She needles my limits just to gauge my temper and every time I refuse to snap, her frustration morphs into fascination. I wonder what she'd do if I shoved back, let her believe she was under my skin. She'd probably crank the heat even higher. Ours will never be a soft, gooey sort of marriage. That’s not who we are. We’re gasoline and the match. One of us will spark, the other will feed the blaze. Sooner or later we’ll blur together, unable to tell who struck first or who fanned the flames. All I know is that I want to burn with her, for her, becaus