Addicted Chinese Drama Novels & Stories

Here we were again, fucking my son’s wife in the swimming pool while our families were in the pool with us. I continued to instruct her while I fucked her. Forgive me, God! She was so good. I continued to fuck her slowly without making any sound. I wanted to kiss her, suck her large breasts, and drink her milk. My hand found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles while I fucked her slowly. I had realized something… I was addicted to her; I couldn’t live without fucking her. “I’m cumin,” I whispered in her ear. But I didn’t stop. I pulled out of her pussy and slid my cock into her rectum. Shit! It was so tight.

Her legs were wide open, showing her red, swollen, well-used cunt. She smiled weakly, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion and satisfaction. “I feel… destroyed. But I feel alive. I’ve never cum so much in my life.” She paused, then whispered softly, almost ashamed: “And I already want more.” The three men smiled. They knew they had awakened something dangerous inside her. This married woman was no longer satisfied with her quiet life. She was addicted now.

My name was Lindsey Hawthorn, and I had struggled with this compulsion for as long as I could remember. Everyone always thought I was a good, quiet girl, but only I knew the truth—the intense, almost unbearable craving I had for men. Just the sight of a strong, muscular man was enough to make me weak. By the time I reached college, this need had completely spiraled out of control. Sometimes, even the slightest friction while walking would trigger an overwhelming release. People would stare, probably thinking I had wet myself.

I can't see anything but the burning heat in my body. she had tried so hard to pull her wrist out of my grip, but every time she did that it was like she was giving me strength to tighten my grip on her. "T-Help..." I heard her hoarse voice whispered. She was running out of energy to scream and continued to sob. I was so high. So fucking high. She drugged me and I was just returning her a favor. Sucking her neck was my damn favorite and now, I was addicted. I like the taste of her soft skin.

My breathing steadied as I pulled the phone I’d lifted from his pocket into view. “Bingo,” I whispered, my grin widening as the screen lit up. “Seems learning a bit of pickpocketing and other unhanded skills from Uncle Jackson surely paid off.” My fingers traced the familiar pattern on the screen, and with a quick swipe, the phone unlocked. Relief and triumph surged through me. “Henry,” I murmured, staring at the dial pad. “Time for a long call.” ************** ~Damon’s POV~ The silence in my study was deceptive, offering none of the peace I sought. After the meal, Arianna’s boldness lingered in my mind, her sultry words and provocative demeanour gnawing at my resolve.

Then he let go of my arm. My brows arched while our eyes were still glaring at each other. Oh really Let's see how far your patient is, Magnus. I grimaced, then shook my head. It would be futile if I affected him. because I don't either understand what kind of fighting spirit joined him. "Are you an addict? Why don't you understand—” “I admit I'm addicted. I'm addicted to you, Tamara.” Slightly he even looked at my lips. “And yes, I'm addicted, especially when I imagine those kissable lips you have.”

Positioning him right where I wanted him. “What the fuck is so addictive about this pussy that it drives me crazy?” he asked as his fingers slipped inside, the palm of his hand pressing against my clit. “The obnoxious mouth that comes with it?” He let out a low chuckle, his hand curling and drawing my hips off the seat. Sadly, it was then we pulled back up to the hotel and he removed his hand, making me whimper. If I didn’t watch it, I was bound to become addicted to him. Which, considering he was going to kill me, was a very bad idea.

And Kael went back to work with Lucian in the chair across from his desk, present and unhurried and not going anywhere, and the city moved toward evening outside the window, and somewhere in it Adrian's careful construction was coming apart piece by piece. And this— Whatever this was becoming— Was just beginning.

In my mind, I'd fantasize about some lecherous man charging at me, shoving me to the ground, and roughly forcing my legs apart. Then came the weekend. My roommates invited me to a bar. I'd heard there were plenty of good-looking guys there. It was like waving a red flag at my hungry inner demon. Soon we arrived at the bar. A few drinks went down smoothly. And I couldn't resist the urge to expose myself again, right there in the crowd. That craving was more addictive than poison. It felt like ants crawling under my skin. I couldn't sit still. But my roommates were right next to me. There was no way I could do that kind of thing in front of them.

She was totally addicted, totally surrendered, totally his. The addiction had a name: Ashan. The End.