Story cover for QUIET OBSESSION by claravale_writes
QUIET OBSESSION
  • WpView
    Reads 71
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 29m
  • WpView
    Reads 71
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 8
  • WpHistory
    Time 29m
Ongoing, First published Jan 07
Mature
1 new part
He rules in silence.
She survives in it.

Noor ul Ain has spent her life learning how to endure quietly in classrooms, in borrowed homes, in a world that mistakes restraint for emptiness. She doesn't ask to be noticed. She doesn't believe in halfway love. And she has never imagined herself belonging to a man like him.

Alexander Harrington owns power most people never see-wealth, influence, and a darkness kept meticulously controlled. He does not get distracted. He does not look twice.

Until he does.

What begins as a single moment of recognition turns into something far more dangerous, a quiet obsession that doesn't demand, doesn't rush, and doesn't let go.

This is not a love story built on noise or chaos.
It is about restraint, power, and what happens when someone finally sees what the world chose to overlook.

Not all obsessions are loud.
All Rights Reserved
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37 parts Ongoing Mature

"You *thrust* are* thrust* my *thrust* woman," he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness as he thrust deeper, each movement making me cry out in both pain and desire. I was beyond exhausted, my body aching from hours of relentless passion. "Adrian, please... stop," I begged, my voice barely audible, my eyes squeezed shut. The exhaustion was overwhelming; I could barely feel my legs anymore, my body on the brink of collapse. But his response was cold, unwavering. "Sleep, ocean. I won't stop tonight." And with that, everything went black. ............................................ He pinned me to the wall, his grip unforgiving, making me gasp in pain. His eyes were bloodshot with rage, and for a moment, I wasn't scared of him-just terrified of what he might do to Luciano. "If you ever mention his name in front of me again, I swear, wildcat, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands," he snarled, his voice sending a chill down my spine. His words hung in the air, the threat lingering like a dark storm. "You are mine. Your body. Your soul. Your heart, too," he growled, his hands moving to unhook the only thing that separated us-my bra. "No protests today," he warned, his voice thick with determination. "I'll take you by hook or by crook." And before I could react, he tossed me onto the bed. ...............