Addicted To You Krista Ritchie Novels & Stories

he was talking, but he was shut by a resounding slap from me. “Ho__” I slapped him again before he could talk. “You cheated, but you didn't feel remorseful, you this stupid sex addict, what? You call me shameless? You fuvked my maid on my bed! And you sleep with all of your secretaries!” I roared, attracting attention and I didn't care what others said about me at the moment.

Everything inside her twisted into a mess of wild lust and vibrating anxiety. She had no idea what she was doing with him, she didn't give it serious thoughts before she said yes. All she knew was that she couldn’t stop, even if she wanted to. Brett was like an addictive drug. Once you've had a taste of him, there is really no turning back. She was hooked and it didn't seem like she wanted to be released either.

Made him go crazy. Her beautiful face and those black eyes with a hint of peach blossom were cold and sharp but also hid a lot of secrets behind those big cat like eyes. She was always alert and always hot as hell. "Fuck it. I need her and I will soon make you mine dear wifey. I will make you mine and crush you under me every night. Make you beg for mercy but never give it to You."

“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.

I touched myself through the denim, my mind replaying the way he’d growled my name, the way his massive cock had filled me until I thought I’d burst. I was a mess. I was a traitor. I was my brother-in-law’s dirty little secret. And as my own hand worked against my aching cock, I realized the terrifying truth..I wasn't just trapped. I was addicted. I was a soft, pretty little bitch who had finally found the one thing he was truly meant for…to be ruined by a man who shouldn't even be looking at him. I came in the silence of my room, a weak, shaky release that left me feeling more hollow than before.

*** ~~~ CHANCÉ~~~ *** Since the last time River and I had sex, I’ve been thinking about that moment nonstop. I feel like a drug addict in withdrawal — conflicted, restless, and completely obsessed. Am I an addict? I don’t know, but if you can’t stay away from something and you obsess over it every second, then yeah… I guess I am. My drug is sex with River Dawson. I can’t stop craving it, so instead, I’m avoiding him.

he murmured quietly, “I’m already addicted to you. My heart skipped.

The ringing on the other end felt like an eternity, a tug-of-war between my willpower and my addiction. Finally, Ethan's voice broke through, offering a lifeline in my darkest hour. "Cindy? Is everything okay?" My voice was strained, desperation evident. "Ethan, I can't do this anymore. This urge is consuming me." "Hey, hey, it's okay, remember why you decided to get clean. You've fought through this before." Tears welled up in my eyes, "I know, but the urge is unbearable. I just want that one hit."

I jerked my hips, looking for some sort of relief and his eyes followed the movement, the red in them so deep it was almost black. He climbed atop me, his hands trailing down my body. His mouth returned to my neck, kissing and sucking with abandoned. I squirmed underneath him, thrashing as much as my bonds would allow. Finger’s combed through the hair over my sex and I bucked, audibly sucking in air when they brushed against my clit. His mouth moved lower down, closing around my hard nipples and rolling them about his tongue while I squirmed crazily underneath him. His fingers circled my clit twice, doing an incredible job of not touching it. I sobbed my pleas, trying to press my hips into h