Addicted Series Books Novels & Stories

This singular attitude made them become really endeared to me, as they were free to act very normal around me. The front door opened again and Matt walked in, as though he owned the place. Matt was a vampire, and my PA. He clutched his laptop under his arms as though his life depended on that singular gadget. Well, maybe his life actually depended on it because I couldn't recall any time I'd ever seen him without his laptop or tablet. Like hell, maybe he even went with them to the bathroom. Matt walked straight to where I was sitting at the kitchen table, flung his bag on the table and whipped out his laptop. In seconds, he had it powered on, and after hastily typing a few buttons, he asked

“Very well, little librarian. But there are rules. Each book you choose will manifest its story through me. The words you read aloud become sensations on your body. The pleasure is real. It can make you moan, tremble, even come undone. But there is no lasting harm… unless you stay past the final chime too often.” He paused, his gaze drifting over my flushed cheeks. “The longer you linger each night, the harder you get addicted. The library starts to pull on your soul. Do you still want to play?” I swallowed hard. My nipples were already tightening under my blouse, my panties were soaked. “Yes I do.” I reached for a milder-looking book titled Velvet Whispers. The cover felt warm in my hands.

Yes, Maureen admits she is cheap for being weak in the face of the greatest temptation that greets. The sighs that came out were no longer able to be held back by biting her lips as hard as possible. No matter if it is a friend or even someone's husband, the space that limits her, the tiredness of resisting, Maureen is entangled in an addiction that keeps asking to be satisfied. The pleasure that blew away consciousness made Maureen trapped in distortion. Her body feels lifted high, then fully forced in. Maureen was wide-eyed to find herself clinging naked to Darren's lap.

Rico has spent months resisting the urge to ruin his personal assistant. Sweet, untouched, and completely off-limits—until now. Seeing her in his club, bathed in red light, eyes wide as she takes in the depravity around her, is the final straw. She doesn’t have to speak; he can see it in her face, in the way her breath catches. She’s curious. Tempted. Desperate for someone to show her just how good sin can feel. And he’s done pretending it won’t be him.

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."

It was the perfect plan. Next read: The Perfect Plan, it’s a spinoff of Addicted to You and features Travis’ and Tiffany’s story.

“I wanted to protect myself. To keep the truth hidden. But maybe I just destroyed something real before it could even start.” She leaned back against the couch, covering her face with her hands. “Damian must hate me now. God, he must think I used him…” Her heart twisted painfully. Despite everything, she craved him. She wanted to hear his voice, to explain, to beg for understanding. Instead, she poured another drink. The room blurred around her as exhaustion weighed heavy. Her phone slipped from her fingers, landing on the couch cushion. In her haze, her thumb brushed against the screen, unknowingly dialing a familiar number.

Before someone sees me, like I was an embarrassment that needed to be cleaned up before it stained their reputation. I looked at Dante standing by that window with his arms crossed and his eyes cold. I looked at Mateo with his guilty face and his gentle voice telling me to leave. And I saw it so clearly it nearly killed me. While I'd been falling in love and counting down the days and building a future in my head, they'd been enjoying forbidden sex with the step-sister they were never going to choose. I was the thrill. The taboo. The dirty secret that made them feel alive.

I looked at the sets of books that cost me thousands of dollars, and hundreds of hours just to read all of them. “Yeah, Izzy,” I said as I grabbed the set of Percy Jackson Books by Rick Riordan, and I could almost feel tears form in my eyes, “these books seem like they’re harmless, but I know in myself what they do to me, and I know how much these books affect me spiritually. I need to let go of these books and set myself free from myself and my addiction.”

And there were still dozens and dozens more that I hadn't touched. These stories were addicting. And as I continued to read through them, I felt my body heating up more and more. To an insane level, frankly. Almost as bad as it was just a few days ago. I also discovered that my main addiction was the daddy-daughter stories. They were completely my favorites. I'd probably need to talk to a therapist at some point to figure out why that was. (That was the little joke I made up to lighten the mood in my head.)