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Let Me Hurt You

Author: Urskazupanc
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-11 23:03:11

I walked out of his office with tears rolling down my cheeks.

The air was still thin. Like it didn’t know how to carry me anymore.

I didn’t run I marched. Every step out of that building felt like a dare. Like a dare

But when I got into my car, the silence hit louder than anything he’d said.

I sat there for a full minute, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. My chest ached. I wanted to scream, cry, punch something.

Instead, I turned the key.

And I drove.

First out of the parking lot. Then past the familiar corners of campus. Then through the back roads of the city I knew too well.

I didn’t go home.

Not right away.

Because home felt like the kind of place you go when you wanna be still. I guess

And stillness meant feeling. And feeling meant facing everything Lane made me look at.

Eventually, I pulled up to my apartment. My body moved like it was out of control—keys, door, bedroom.

I sat on my bed, I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me.

My hea
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  • My sexual Addiction   omething restless gnawed at me

    The next day...he showed up outside my class, leaning against his car like a shadow that wouldn’t leave. I didn’t argue, just slid into the passenger seat. His hand found my knee, heavy and possessive. My chest tightened with every mile.But something restless gnawed at me. Julian’s words. That photo. That video. I couldn’t shake it off. So, I started slipping away telling Lane I was studying or hanging out with a friend when really, I was circling the places I knew Julian haunted.And sure enough, he found me.It was dusk, the alleyway quiet except for the distant hum of traffic. He stepped out from the shadows like he’d been waiting all along, hands shoved in his coat pockets, eyes glinting with something dangerous."Brave of you to come alone," Julian drawled."Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not scared of you." Lie.He smirked. "Maybe not. But you should be scared of him."My heart raced. "You’re just trying to drive a wedge between us.""Sweetheart," he said, pulling something from

  • My sexual Addiction   Fracture

    The streetlights made the rain sparkle, casting the city in fragmented silver streaks. My phone buzzed in my hand, freezing on that grainy shot of Lane and me outside the hotel trapped like animals. Julian’s voice echoed in my mind: Always good to see you together.Lane's jaw tensed when he caught a glimpse of the screen. "He’s watching."I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "How the hell ?""He wants you scared." Lane’s hand brushed against my arm, steadying. "Don’t give him that."But the fear had already settled in, icy and unshakeable. I shoved the phone into my pocket, fighting the urge to toss it into the gutter. Lane was too close, his presence heavy, and the scent of him mixed with the rain coffee, cedar, and that warmth that always unraveled me."Come with me," he said, his voice low, almost a command.I should’ve put up a fight. I should’ve told him that I was done letting men control my choices. Instead, my legs moved, following him into the night like I was

  • My sexual Addiction   The Line

    That scarf? Nah, it wasn’t just tossed there. It was like someone lined it up with a ruler, and honestly, it creeped me out. I just stared at it, heart pounding so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think. Ended up inching backward, pressed up against the doorframe like maybe the extra wood would keep me safe.And then, of course, Julian’s voice. He’s not who you think just barges into my brain, uninvited and sharp as hell.Didn’t give myself time to spiral. Grabbed my phone, typed out: Lane.Straight to voicemail. Figures.Left the scarf untouched, locked myself in, and sat on the kitchen floor with all the lights off. Just me, my own messy thoughts, and the sky turning that ugly gray that means morning’s coming whether you like it or not. Told myself I’d deal with him. No more letting Lane slip away with half-truths and that tired, wounded look.He must’ve heard me coming because he yanked open his office door before I even knocked.“Amelia.” Like he was relieved and pissed off at the

  • My sexual Addiction   Splinters

    The photo wouldn’t leave my mind.It sat there behind my eyelids, waiting for the moment I blinked. Lane, younger, the edges of his hair unkempt in a way I’d never seen. And her whoever she was standing just close enough that their shoulders touched. The resemblance was so sharp it felt deliberate, like someone had carved her face from a mold of mine.History repeats itself.I told myself not to give into it. People looked alike all the time, but then why did my stomach twist every time I replayed the caption?By morning, I was in front of my laptop, fingers hovering over the keyboard.Lane Carter Boston.The search results were… nothing. Well, not nothing there were conference mentions, dry psychology journal citations, a faculty bio from years ago that had been taken down. But no social media. No news articles. No personal photos. He was a man who existed on paper, not in the world.The deeper I dug, the stranger it felt, even people who worked hard to stay private left crumbs, but

  • My sexual Addiction   Threads in the Dark

    I didn’t mean to see him again.I told myself that on Wednesday afternoon, stepping out of the student center with my coffee clutched like a shield, the autumn air bit at my cheeks, the campus alive with chatter and the rustle of leaves, I kept my head down, scarf pulled high.And then“Afternoon, Amelia.”I froze.Julian leaned casually against a lamppost like he’d been waiting all day, black coat, leather gloves, that slow, deliberate smile.I scanned the croud, too many people for a scene “You have a real talent for making places feel smaller than they are.”“Or maybe,” he said, straightening, “you just don’t notice me until I want you to.”He fell into step beside me, I quickened my pace toward the library.“Tell me,” Julian continued, his tone conversational, “did Lane ever tell you why he left Boston?”I didn’t look at him “You’re assuming I care.”“Of course you care you’re curious by nature and You just like to pretend you’re not.”The way he said it calm, assured, like he was

  • My sexual Addiction   Julian had been there, Watching.

    The photo wouldn’t stop sliding through my mind.The grainy darkness of the alcove, the vulnerable angle of my neck, the obscene intimacy of the moment captured without me knowing.Julian had been there, watching.I deleted the message, then I undeleted it. My thumb hovered over “block number,” but I didn’t press it.Instead, I turned my phone face-down and lay in bed, pulse thudding in my ears, wondering if it was fear keeping me awake… or anticipation.The First AppearanceTwo days later, I saw him again.It was a Tuesday morning, too early for anything dramatic, or so I thought, I was stepping out of the campus library when I spotted him leaning against the iron gate like he belonged there.The same easy smirk.“Amelia,” he said like we were old friends, his voice a smooth ribbon of familiarity.I froze, “What are you doing here?”His eyes flicked over me messy bun, wool coat, scarf tugged too tight around my neck, “What, I’m not allowed to enjoy a brisk morning on campus?”“You do

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