Addicted To Love Novels & Stories

You make me believe that I can be loved and accepted by who I am, with all my imperfections. I smiled softly, touching your face with affection.

Only by kissing them could one understand how wonderful they felt. One would become addicted and obsessed with them. However, why did he seem to be the only one addicted to it? Why was he still so easily influenced by her and could even go out of control?

"I do." Damian was surprised by her sudden answer. "I'm addicted to you too. I just don't know why. You hurt me but I keep coming back to you. I wanted to leave once the first week was over but seeing you like this made me stay. I don't know why and I don't understand it and I don't want to. I love you too." Damian looked at Lilian as if she had not just said what she said. He pulled her close gently and kissed her full on the lips. Lilian melted into his warmth. She had missed it so much. Damian pulled away and stroked her cheek lovingly.

It's interesting that there's even such love in existence- I'm so lucky to present true love. I'm so lucky to be in the most beautiful and loving couple in the world. I'm blessed beyond imagination to have a caring Girlfriend like you, now why would I want to be anywhere else you're not? No way, I never ever want to be somewhere you're not. When love turns into Addiction, you see your partner like the most perfect, stainless, flawless companion. When Love turns into Addiction. It's what keeps y'all committed to the Promise you made.

I'm sure there's happiness and endless love between us but pain was always on the way to destroy us. But maybe...even there's pain I always choose to love him endlessly. I didn't mind the pain. I felt like I feel numb for it. And while loving him...I am also loving the pain. That's why I got addicted. I got addicted I don't know how to rehab. I know it would sounds crazy...but along with the pain I'm feeling while loving him...I will never let go of him and I will always hold on to his promise. He promised me he'll be back. He promised me he'll find me no matter what. He promised that we'll see each other again and I trust him. I can wait for him. Even it's a months, days, weeks, or even yea

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.

It was always strong and irresistible, and as he slid his hands down to my ass and kissed my neck, I wqs reminded that we’re still very much governed by our addictions. He still craved my body, and in turn, I still craved his heart. Our love just had a way of pushing it to the side, smothering it a little. I think more of how I love him than how I’m addicted to him… And maybe that’s the key. Maybe that’s how we’ll make it work. Perhaps our love and our addictions are intertwining into an intricate knot that makes total sense. I reluctantly stepped from Ivan’s hold and placed my key in the door. And paused.

I felt terrible about what she had to go through growing up, all I wanted to do was protect her and I felt as if I had already failed, because she grew up with this monster. So, I tried another attempt to stay away from her, but then here I was offering to take her to work and helping her get another job. After that first kiss, I knew I couldn't stop. I wanted to stay away, but I couldn't and every day I was with her I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know all of her favourites, all of her hates. Every time I see the colour orange, which is her favourite colour, all I could do is think about her. How annoying, right? To think of a person every time you see this particular colour. I

“For most people, I think.” “What about you?” He chuckles. “I’m definitely most people. It took me a while to free myself of mine.” I don’t tell him that I’m most people too. “You know,” he adds, “they say being in love is like having a drug addiction. And first love is like the first hit. It’s all kinds of powerful and unforgettable.” I empty the glass and then hold it tightly between my fingers. Well, that’s… Not comforting at all. He rakes his hand through his hair, pushing back long strands that had fallen forward. “Having trouble with yours?”

her voice was breaking. I am not in love with her; I am obsessed. I am addicted; she is my version of marijuana and every other dangerous drug out there. I already knew from the moment I saw her that it was the end of me, or maybe the beginning. But all I knew was that this girl sitting on the bed was my whole world, my reason for breathing and living. She is the only thing that makes sense in this fucked-up world of mine, and I’d rather have every part of me cut and roasted than to let her go. She has to love me; she has no other option, because she is never escaping me. Whenever she is involved, nothing else makes sense. It is an unhealthy obsession, but it is also something completely out