⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️ This story is not safe. It's addictive, explicit, and threaded with triggers that bite. It drags you through obsession, trauma, and the kind of desire that hurts as much as it heals. If you can't handle morally grey men, broken women, or the thin line between love and ruin, stop here. If you can... keep reading. I thought monsters only lived in the dark, until I was framed for a murder I didn't commit and dragged into a world that felt darker than any nightmare. Where he was. Where he's always been. Watching me. He doesn't love. He claims what's his and destroys anyone who touches it. I tried to run from the shadow that haunts me, but somehow, every time, I end up running straight back to him. He's danger wrapped in devotion. My curse. My obsession. My undoing. I should fear him. And I do. But fear doesn't stop the pulse between my thighs. Or the way my heart betrays me when he whispers my name like a threat and a prayer. They call it madness. I call it survival. Because in his darkness, I stopped being hunted. I became the desire. He's the shadow I was meant to run from, but the one who left his hunger burning deep inside me. Big news! 🎉 Stalked To Be Desired and Damned is officially available on Amazon! This story you've loved is now in paperback-ready to sit beautifully on your bookshelf. Go grab your copy now and own a piece of the story! https://a.co/d/02d5Mwtq

"Don't touch me" He said through gritted teeth, "I don't know what I'll do if you touch me" My heart dropped. "I don't want to see you like this" I frowned and hesitantly tried to touch his shoulder, but he grabbed my hand tightly but gently. "Fuck it" He murmured as he held my jaw and pressed his lips on mine. (The guy is 22 and the girl is 17 a few months away from 18. If you're bothered by that please don't read it.)

"You're the only thing that I have ever truly loved," he states, leaning in closer. I try to scoot away, but he corners me on the bed, placing his body over mine. "Get off me!" I exclaim, angrily. "I'm not who you think I am. That can't be possible." His face comes closer to mine as he pins my wrists to the bed. "It is possible. I loved you for three, short, human years, and then you left me. Now that I have you back, though, I will never let that happen again." ***** Salem's earliest memories were of her parents preforming odd rituals. She never really understood anything they said in them, but she would always sit in the middle of the big, circled, star and giggle. At age 10, both of her parents died. She was thrown into foster care. Without them around to explain to her exactly what the rituals meant, Salem was never told that she was a sacrifice to a demon king in exchange for all the money they could ever ask for. On her 20th birthday, at the stroke of midnight, the demon king finally comes for her. She is completely unaware of the situation, and she begins to try her best at resisting his advances, but he is very possessive, very persuasive, and very determined to claim what is rightfully his.