Addicted Novels & Stories

She teased and he chuckled. "You love me like that. Don't lie. You like the whole of me and I'm obsessed with the whole of you, addicted even." He said, quietly and she could feel the breeze around her too. Her heart skipped a bit at his phone confession. "I'm addicted to you, Bella Mia. Fuçkin addicted, and I hate the thought of being set free from this addiction. Cage me like a bird on your palm with your fingers, I don't mind. I would do anything for you. No matter what."

I had known Mark for eight years, and I constantly yearned for his attention and longed to capture his heart during this whole time. I loved him, and he knew it. To make me give up, he brought back a girlfriend. People in his circle said I was addicted to loving him. They claimed I was a helpless lovestruck woman.But I didn’t care. There was nothing wrong with loving someone wholeheartedly.. To what extent had I become addicted? I had become addicted to the point where I didn't hesitate to get rid of any woman who got close to him.

I point out, arching an eyebrow. "No, but I'm obsessed. Maybe I'm not addicted to alcohol, but I am addicted to work. You said it yourself, remember? I'm a workaholic. I don't have anything else. I worry I wouldn't be able to fix myself, and I wouldn't be around for much."

“Did you know that you’re like a drug for me?” I furrowed my brow. “Drug?” He nodded, causing me to move my head as our foreheads were still touching. We must have looked silly, but I preferred being this close to him. I could feel him so intensely. “You’re my drug that I’m addicted to, and I can’t get enough of you. It’s like you’re the caffeine to my tired mornings, the sugar rush to my sweet tooth, and the adrenaline to my spirit.” He kissed my lips and smiled. “Every time I see you, it’s like a rush of euphoria that courses through my veins, leaving me craving for more. You’re the high that I can’t resist, the addiction that I willingly surrender to. Just

he chuckled,”You’re a good asset to my gang. “What’s the last part of my training?” I asked, remembering the conversation from earlier. “You have to get a tattoo,” he stated. “A tattoo?” I gaped, “Why?” “It’s the trademark,” he smiled,”It’s kind of like a brand. Everyone in my gang has the tattoo.” “What’s the tattoo of?” I wondered. “A Devil's,” he smiled, “Or serpents.” “Why a Devil?” I questioned. “My gang name is The Devil's Brotherhood,” he smirked. I chuckled, and looked at him.

I didn’t have any kinks. I strolled away, but I could still hear her moan. Love is a name of the sweetest feelings that comforts you, gives you pleasure, and lets you know you are special, but this was something beyond what I’ve heard about love. Being tormented and the pain you receive when kissed is not love, it is addiction. Especially when you have to beg him to satisfy you.

"I know you have been stalking me. How long has it been going on like that? To meet your grandfather, you stoop this low, like paying those homeless people there to kill me? What? Did you plan to meet him in the morgue or graveyard?" Her back stiffened as Bash used that word. Graveyard. It triggered a memory that she had to shake away from her mind. "It's your...mental breakdown talking. It's okay. I can feel you." She lowered her gaze, not wanting Bash to see her red-rimmed eyes. Trying hard to keep her emotions at bay, she ranted, "That is normal after what happened to you in that street. People there can be violent because of poverty, unemployment, and addiction that an addict can't get r

i hear the door barricaded and his footsteps growing near me and i close my eyes in fear, ready to be raped by this god again. i hear his shorts drop between his tanned, hair-speckled legs, he slaps his monster cock in his hand, the thick clap it emanates makes me feel it inside me already. i am ready. when you are first violated, you will want nothing more than to leave… to cry and scream… but after; you become addicted. addicted to the state of pain your aggressor inflicts upon you. addicted to the warmth of the cock ravaging your guts. addicted to the feeling of

Once I find her, whoever she is, I will never hesitate to kiss her, hold her, hug her, own her entire body, heart, and soul. For some unexplainable reason, I just wanted that person to be mine. Mine alone. Addiction, madness, whatever I can call how I feel, I don’t care anymore. That person is mine, and once I find her, I will never let her go no matter what happens. There’s no way I could.

He was really something else. I made my way towards the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was flushed and there were red marks all over my neck and chest. I traced them with my fingers as a small smile played around the corner of my lips. He does know to pleasure a woman, I'll give him that. God, he was so fucking addicting, like a drug and I couldn’t get enough of him. I thought about all the women who had a share of him and felt a pang of jealously.