Ansley (A stalking Love)

Ansley (A stalking Love)

  • WpView
    Reads 91,738
  • WpVote
    Votes 2,226
  • WpPart
    Parts 14
WpMetadataReadOngoing1h 45m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Dec 8, 2018
Admiration could be good but when it involves obsession then things get ugly. **** Ansley Cowden was a happy girl with looks to die for. And reason for him to notice her. It started with messages by anonymous number, then phone calls, and then gifts. But being a carefree girl, she never paid attention to the things which seemed petty at the beginning turned colossal at end, and her life upside down. **** "For days, I couldn't feel anything but this constant craving, a craving that burns through me, a craving that sets me on fire, a craving that makes me ache for just one thing. And it's you, Ansley. You and only you. We'll be one soon. I'm coming. So don't you dare running away. Because you only belong to me. Your one and only love."
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Killing Me Softly
  • Finding Her (Book 2 SAMPLE)
  • Khaali Raaste
  • 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍.
  • Charms
  • The Styles Mansion [h.s]
  • The Obsession
  • Yandere Abusive bully girl x shy male
  • 𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘
  • Crush Crush

Triggers: Yearning, violence, obsession, stalking, kidnap, nsfw, actual plot. His hands. The thing she hated most was when she started craving his touch. She would even go so far as to admit that she worshipped his hands. Cruel and bloodied as they'd always be, she loved when he touched her with them. And no, the marks on her necks were never from his anger but only from his devotion. The hungry way he took her, completely sober and focused on wanting for her to feel pleasure couldn't compare to any drink or drug she could try to drown herself in. It was there when he'd brush the hair out of her face, or gently rest his hands on any part of her. Worshipping, adoring, owning her. It was intoxicating yet, in a twisted way, so sobering. She was no fool. She knew this was all a sickness. More than a rented whore, and less than a wedded wife. A being he possessed with passion but on whim could deny it all and leave stranded. It was a vicious predicament. And yet, she accepted that she let it happen.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines