What’s Mine Is Hers Novels & Stories

Strange in a good way. She's mine. She belongs to me, To use as I wish, To take when I desire, To fuck how I want, To do what I wish... Red is mine... Mine to care for, mine to protect, mine to love. Wait... What! Did I just mention LOVE?

Matteo's Pov She has nothing of mine? She has nothing of mine?! I crane my neck back, laughing without an ounce of humor whilst the water continue running down my body. She's delusional if she thinks that she isn't mine. Her existence is mine, that body is mine, those eyes are mine and should be kept on me, those lips are mine. Everything she has is mine. Everything she is and will ever be belongs to me. Especially those two angels.

"I care that he had his hands all over what's mine and that too, in front of everyone as if he’s insulting me." What's mine. The words hung in the air between us, heavy and loaded with meaning. A declaration. A claim. Something inside me rebelled against it, even as another part—a part I didn't want to acknowledge—thrilled at the possessiveness in his tone. "I'm not yours," I said, each word precise and deliberate. "I don't belong to anyone." A dangerous smile curved his lips, one that didn't reach his eyes. "We both know that's not true, cara mia. You became mine the moment you agreed to this arrangement—the moment you stepped inside my mansion."

It did not stop Jasper from stealing frequent looks at me. Nicole had noticed, so she kept trying to go against me. She kept bidding against me for the emerald pendant that I wanted, and it got more and more expensive. "50 million!" Nicole shot a triumphant look at me, and she looked even more smug when I did not bid a higher price. She turned and whined playfully at Jasper, "Jaspie, I like that emerald piece. Will you bid for it and give it to me?" Jasper saw how pale I was and tweaked Nicole's nose in satisfaction. He said fondly, "When have I ever refused you anything that you liked?"

"Did. You. Fuck. Him?" I throw my hands up in defiance, my voice rising to a shout. "What do you care, Logan? Why does it matter to you?" But before I can continue, he cuts me off, his words dripping with possessiveness. "You. Are. Mine. Nadine," he declares, his voice low and menacing. "And no man, I repeat, NO MAN dares to take what is mine." His gaze bores into mine, sending a chill down my spine as he emphasizes his claim.

But his to what? *His to break?* *His to torture?* *His to punish?* She thought. ‘MINE TO LOVE.’ ‘MINE TO MEND.’ ‘MINE TO CHERISH.’ He whispered in her ears. ****** ******

This beautiful gorgeous woman is mine. I open my arms and she walks right into them.“You look amazing my beautiful mate” I say while placing a kiss on her forehead. Her eyes light up at my words “You look beautiful too” “Thank you.” I give her another kiss on the top of her head “are you ready?” “Yeah I can’t wait to see how everything turned out. Hopefully everyone in your pack showed up”she gives a nervous shimmy. “In our pack.” I correct “You are mine now and I am yours. Everything I have belongs to you”

-I know, but I can't risk them taking you from me. -You're crazy, I yell at him. -I helped you because that's what I would have done for anyone. I'm not yours. -You are mine, and you will stay here. Because that's what I want,he yells at me angrily.

I say, leaning into a kiss as I slide my hand into her hair. This kiss is more possessive, more dominant than anything I’ve ever allowed myself with her before. She is mine and after a decade of waiting, I will claim her in every way possible tonight. When I pull away, she’s breathless, clinging to me. Perfect. “Come, show me your treasures,” I say. “They’re your treasures now, Yhen.” I stop and look at her, stroking my fingers over her cheek. “There is only one treasure in my life and she’s in my arms right now. Everything else is just glitz and glamour that can’t hold a candle to the beauty of my mate.”

I am war. And yet, she stays. She always stays. I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve her. But I’ve claimed her anyway. Like everything else I’ve taken, I’ve wrapped her in chains of my own making and convinced myself it’s protection, not possession. But the truth is simpler. She’s mine. Not in the way the world defines ownership—not with rings or titles or declarations. No. She’s mine in the way breath belongs to lungs. In the way gravity belongs to the earth. Essential. Unrelenting.