Addicted To Pain Book Novels & Stories

After he was done, and I was destroyed, he told me he had something special that would take all the pain away. That was the first time I got high. Anthony was right. It did help the pain, but most importantly, it dulled the memory of what just happened. That morning was the start of my addiction. I spent that day crying alone in the bathtub. When my mom came home from work, I tried to tell her what happened, and she became livid. She told me Anthony had already told her how the minute she left, I woke him up, my mouth around his c*ck. My mom was furious that I would do something like that. She understood I missed my dad and was acting out, but she couldn't have me in the house anymore. She w

NICHOLAS Pain. I crave pain like an addict would crave drugs. It's a feeling I was also used to. I've gotten so used to it to the extent I go numb, It doesn't hurt anymore. I got used to the pain ever since Jack, my dipshit of a father smacks me around when I was little. I've learnt how not to feel pain and at the same time I needed the pain because pain is much better than having feelings.

My brothers and Amber sounded confused and uneasy. "The doctor said there's nothing wrong with us," someone said with a frown. "But just now, it felt like I was being tortured to death." "I've never felt pain like that in my life." "Wait," another voice cut in, sharp with panic. "Why does it feel like it's starting again?" The anesthesia was wearing off. Pain bloomed once more. In the hallway, their voices shattered into screams. I lowered my gaze and pressed a fingernail gently into the edge of my bandaged wound. Pain shot through me.

Well, that was very bad because more was coming, and I was very sure that he would find it very difficult to bear all that was coming, if he found it very difficult to bear this. Mason fucking Smith would suffer so much pain by my hands, and I was going to make sure I enjoyed every single moment of his agony.

The pain made my pussy throb with need. He licked the blood from my skin and bit again in a different spot. “You crave this now, don’t you?” he asked, his voice rough. I gasped as he pushed two fingers inside my wet cunt. “Yes… I crave the pain. It makes me feel alive.” He added a third finger, stretching me open. My hips bucked up to meet his hand. The echoes in my head grew louder, turning into something like addiction. I needed him to hurt me and fuck me at the same time.

he groans and begins to move his finger inside of me, pushing up against my front wall, just how I like it. I could already feel the heat travel throughout my body, and I rocked my hips up to meet his fingers, wanting more of him. "More?" he groans, as if hearing my thoughts. "More," I whisper, nodding my head. "It's your second day of having sex and I think you've become an addict," he chuckles, thrusting his finger into me as I chuckle. "Only an addict for you," I groan, running my fingers through his hair.

A bone-deep pain instantly tore through my body. I let out a muffled gasp and collapsed onto the cold floor. Cold sweat drenched my back in seconds. I felt as though my soul was being torn apart. Yet, compared to the heartbreak from just moments ago, this pain felt much milder. With my gaze locked on the bone ring, I whispered to myself, "Just five more days, Tori Dawson. Five more days, and you'll be free from this ridiculous farce."

I drained yet another glass, the sharp burn of the vodka sliding down my throat. It scorched a path through my chest, but the fire was welcome—almost comforting. It grounded me, gave me something tangible to focus on amidst the storm raging inside. The burn dulled the edges of the dread coiling in my gut, made the impending doom feel a little less heavy, a little more manageable. Strange how pain could be soothing when it was familiar.

I crossed my legs beneath the table and leaned back in the booth. He caught his tongue between his teeth and studied me for a moment. “A couple of years ago. And before you ask, no, sex isn’t an outlet for some monumental fuck-up in my childhood. I like sex, I had a bit too much, and I got addicted. It works the same way as any addiction. You get one taste, you want more and more, then suddenly you can’t live without it.” His eyes were focused on mine as he said the last sentence. The very same sentence wrapped around me, tightening my chest and ricocheting off every corner of my mind.

he asked, taking another sip of his coffee. "A book," was her dry reply, without even looking up. Nic gritted his teeth. "I'm aware of that. What's the title?" he asked, with less patience than before. "How to kill someone you don't like in two days." Nic had to laugh on the inside. She really was a funny piece of work. She still had yet to learn her manners, but she would. He would be damn sure of that. He walked over to her and snatched the book from her hands. Before she could protest, he read the title to himself. '100 Greatest Love Poems of All Time'. He handed the book back to her and walked to the bar area and sipped some more of his coffee.