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Still… his. He laughed behind me, cocky and satisfied. And as I curled up by the flames and glared into the fire, I realized something awful. I wasn’t just trapped with Jax Hart. I was addicted.

I growled again. "Open fire!" The command was given and it had to be obeyed, I knew what would come after. If only would listen for once, even from a distance I could hear the pumping of their blood, I could smell it and even taste it already, I remembered how sweet and salty it was, I remembered how warm and thick it felt on my tongue, I could recall how filled and satisfied I was after I drank; with just one sip I was addicted... How could I hold myself back from taking another sip, another bite, when the world couldn't stop me how I could stop myself when I knew not what I had become.

*** ~~~ CHANCÉ~~~ *** Since the last time River and I had sex, I’ve been thinking about that moment nonstop. I feel like a drug addict in withdrawal — conflicted, restless, and completely obsessed. Am I an addict? I don’t know, but if you can’t stay away from something and you obsess over it every second, then yeah… I guess I am. My drug is sex with River Dawson. I can’t stop craving it, so instead, I’m avoiding him.

With a deep breath, Sam reached over and pushed the red button, knowing he’d get his satisfaction at last. But it would only be temporary. Mia had wound her way beneath his skin, into his blood, and he ‘d become addicted. This was the sort of addiction that couldn’t be cured overnight. This was the kind of addiction that could destroy a man if Sam let it. He’d have to find a way to break free of her, but when she came through the door, staring at him with those wide, innocent eyes, her skirt barely long enough to cover anything, her shirt unbuttoned just to the lacy top of her bra, he knew this was exactly the sort of addiction that could bring him to his knees.

Worshipped, finally. After a minute he kissed my shoulder, soft. “Same time tomorrow,” he murmured against my skin. “Bring that hunger.” I nodded, still dazed, his cum slowly leaking out of me as I stood on shaky legs. I dressed in silence, thighs sticky, pussy throbbing with aftershocks. Guilt tried to creep in on the drive home—Mark’s face flashing in my mind—but it couldn’t touch the heat still burning under my skin. I was addicted. And tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

Tomorrow the real war would begin. And I was going to enjoy watching their empire burn while Kane fucked me through every victory. I kissed Kane deep and whispered against his lips. I want it all. He smiled dark and proud. You will have it my greedy queen. Every single piece. The addiction had turned into something much more dangerous. I was no longer just addicted to Kane’s cock. I was addicted to power. And I was ready to take everything.

I hated especially the anticipation his text made me feel. No. It had to stop. I had no idea how addictive the oil was, or how hard it would be to wash it off and get clean. I’d heard some creepy stories back in prison, about how regular opioids caused physical addiction in only five days, and in only two weeks people just couldn’t function without it in their system, not to mention how excruciating the cleansing could be. But I had no choice. I needed to put an end to it, or I would never have the guts to face up to Big Ellie and get rid of him for good. That was the only way to start making my life something other than a relentless burden of pressure and lies.

And that was the most fucked up thing of all. --- THE END Or maybe just the beginning. Because addiction doesn't end. It just keeps burning. And we were both already ash.

4. Dipendenza Italian. Translation in English: Addiction. Adrienne wore a smile on her face when she woke up the next morning. Justin left her apartment early. When she woke up, he was gone. She lay naked in her bed. On her bedside table, a cup of Starbucks coffee sat, with a note: “You’re a fox!” She smiled again. And because she knew she was completely alone, she couldn’t resist putting a pillow on her face and then finally… she fan-girl screamed.

If only he knew that my body responds well to him and that Alexander Hearst was my addictive drug that I could hardly resist. “I have to go,” I said, opening the door without. I looked at him again. “I’m really sorry, Seb.” He shook his head, planting a quick kiss on my lips before letting me go. I almost ran toward the building, and when I got to my apartment, and as Elle opened the door, she didn’t have the chance to ask me how my night was because I had already run to the bathroom, filling the tub with water. When it was full, I immersed myself in the tub, not bothering to take off my clothes.