Novelas y relatos de Addicted Damien

“What do we do now?” Damian didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced, jaw tight. “Tell the delegate…” he began, voice low, steady, but his eyes dark as fire. “…to make the Wilson server slow down.” The command hung heavy in the air. Everyone froze. No one moved. Then Damian turned away, his reflection caught in the glass sharp, powerful, haunted. He whispered to himself, “What the hell are we all becoming?” Outside, thunder cracked over the city skyline, and somewhere across town, Aria’s laptop pinged a new notification lighting up the screen.

My body was covered in his marks, hickeys, handprints, bite marks. When he came the second time he pulled out and painted my face and tits with thick ropes of cum. I licked what I could reach, staring up at him with blurry eyes. Damien collapsed beside me, chest heaving. He pulled me against him, surprisingly gentle now, running his fingers through my messy hair. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You’re addictive.” I laughed weakly, voice completely shot. “You’re the one who paid twenty grand to fuck me stupid.” He smirked and squeezed my ass. “Worth every penny. You’re staying the night, and I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

It gets worse as we move closer. Damian straightens like he wasn't just slipping back into an old habit while fighting with his Beta. Felix used to smoke and drink too much because Damian did. As his Alpha, Damian's habits shaped him. Felix is an Omega. He absorbs. He mirrors. He feels everything deeper. He got addicted to both because Damian made it seem normal. Damian quit to help him quit. He knows he can't start again. If he falls, Felix could fall with him. "We're late," Damian says, like that's the only issue.

The words spilled out filthy and angry but they made my thighs press together, because damn it I was addicted to how he wanted me. Damien grabbed the photos from my hand and tossed them aside, then pulled me flush against his chest. “Every fucking night,” he admitted, voice low and honest as his mouth brushed my ear. “I look at you in those frames and remember how your pussy clenched around me. How you moaned my name like you couldn’t get enough. You’re mine in ways no one else gets. Don’t act like you hate it. I feel how wet you are right now.” His hand slid under my skirt, fingers rubbing slowly and firm.

“That’s right. Beg for it. You’re broken for this cock now, aren’t you? My spoiled little princess riding Bodyguard Daddy in hotel rooms, private jets, backstage at your events. No escape.” “Broken and addicted,” I gasped, meeting every brutal thrust. “I love it when you get possessive. Fuck me in the jet tomorrow? High above the clouds where the pilots might hear me moaning? Or the elevator quick and risky with people right outside the doors. Just promise you’ll always pump me full. Knock me up so I’m tied to you forever.”

How was this ruthless man turning me into his addiction so quickly? The moment the private elevator doors closed, Damien shoved me against the mirrored wall. He hiked up my dress and thrust two thick fingers deep inside me. “Damien—there are cameras!” I gasped. “Let them watch.” He pumped harder, curling against that spot that made my knees buckle. “Let them see how my wife comes undone for me.” I shattered just as the doors opened, biting my lip to silence my cry. He casually licked his fingers clean, eyes locked on mine with dark satisfaction.

I pulled back the heavy, ornate wooden door and let it swing open. Damian's intense brown eyes drilled into mine. I knew he was searching for signs of addiction. I let him look, knowing there were none to be found. His breath slowly expelled and the corners of his mouth lifted. He had the devil's smile to match his name. "It's good to see you," he said, in that strong resonant voice I'd missed so much. "Then I'm hoping you'll let me stay."

I gasped wondering why on earth he would do such a thing. “Damien, are you insane? Why would you do such a thing? I thought you were better than that,” I voiced out my disapproval and disappointment. “I had to because the love I had for the girl I told you I like, is more than what I felt for my mate even with the matebond in place,” Damien snapped, making me flinch due to his unexpected outburst. “She’s like a drug I am addicted to. I see her even when I sleep. I can not go a day without seeing her face. That is why I always hiddenly take photos of her,” He added with a sad smile on his face.

Cheers from the audience echoed all around. Matthew scanned every movement in front of him again, taking in the first experience of being in a crazy game that was usually just a spectacle. He promised it was only this once and never again. "Yes, just once," assured Matthew as he moved Rena's ankles between his shoulders and began to jerk as hard as he could. But he was addicted. *** "Well, thank you very much for accompanying me to the factory owner directly." Darren greeted the man who was probably almost half a century old in front of the prefabricated building used as the product packaging area.

And if she did, I would make her pay for her tricks. “You need to be a bit more specific,” Damien says, leaning back in his chair. “What exactly is it about her blood that you needed my help with?” “Has there ever been records of a human that has possessed addictive blood?” Growing quiet, I watch as he examines me, like he is trying to figure out if I’m lying or trying to play a trick on him. “What exactly do you mean by addictive?” He finally asks when he realizes I’m serious. “I’m not quite…”