Addicted To You Novels & Stories

In my mind, I'd fantasize about some lecherous man charging at me, shoving me to the ground, and roughly forcing my legs apart. Then came the weekend. My roommates invited me to a bar. I'd heard there were plenty of good-looking guys there. It was like waving a red flag at my hungry inner demon. Soon we arrived at the bar. A few drinks went down smoothly. And I couldn't resist the urge to expose myself again, right there in the crowd. That craving was more addictive than poison. It felt like ants crawling under my skin. I couldn't sit still. But my roommates were right next to me. There was no way I could do that kind of thing in front of them.

My fingers kept moving, slow circles over the swollen head. “You love me too much to watch me stop breathing. More than you ever loved her. Everything you couldn’t give her—every dark thing, every brutal thing—you’ve already poured into me. You’ve fucked me raw in ways you never dared with her. You’ve bruised me, marked me, made me cry and beg and come so hard I black out. And you’d give me more. Because I can take it. I crave it. I come harder when you hurt me just right. I beg louder when you remind me I’m nothing without your cock splitting me open. I’m addicted to the way you own me, break me, rebuild me around your dick.”

Gasping, my songbird digs her fingers into my shoulders, squeezing them for dear life while her beautiful moans turn into perfect screams. “Whose are you?” I repeat, wanting to hear more of it. “Who is the only one that can make you feel this good?” “You!” She screams, cumming around me. “L, it’s you! It’s only you.” “More!” One or two times wasn’t enough. I wanted to hear it again and again. I wanted to possess and dominate her again and again. I wanted to tie her up, bend her every which way, and break her so that she became addicted to my dick and my love, which was so fucking unhealthy. I wanted all of her, every inch of her, and I wanted to lock her away. I was addicted to her, and I wa

"When it comes to you, baby I'm addicted You're like a drug, no rehab can fix it I think you're perfect baby even with your flaws You ask what I like about you, ooh I love it all..." Binigay niya sa akin ang dala niya bouquet of red roses, tinanggap ko naman ito ng nakangiti. "When it comes to you, baby I'm addicted You're like a drug, no rehab can fix it I think you're perfect baby even with your flaws You ask what I like about you, ooh I love it all"

I’m addicted to this feeling. I’m addicted to them.

I bobbed my head up and down, taking as much of him as I could to the back of my throat with every slurp. "Mmm. Fuck. Your mouth is made for sucking my cock. You're doing so well." I growled around his skin and he thickened even more against the vibration. For some reason, the praise sent me into a frenzy. He was breaking me, crushing my very foundation to fucking pieces, and I was overwhelmingly addicted. Just the second time and I was addicted to him. Undeniably fucking screwed.

he said. Have I lost my mind completely? Why am I fucking Tristan again in my living room after almost getting caught just hours ago? What about this dude makes me want to risk it all? He turned toward me, and our tongues collided while I continued to pound his pussy hole. I needed Tristan, and he needed me, and every time we fucked, I became more intoxicated with him. He was my drug, and I was addicted to him and had no desire to detox from him. Tristan bent over and touched his ankles, and I pounded his hole harder. Seeing his ripped, lean

I kissed his neck, licked his jaw, and whispered one last time, “So fucking hot, Daddy. Never leave me empty again.” I stayed like that for a long time, connected to him, my body trembling with satisfaction and the dark hunger that only grew stronger. Three days of denial had turned me into this filthy, addicted, willing to do anything to keep his cock inside me while he was helpless. And I already knew I’d do it again tomorrow night. And the night after. Forever if I could.

Addicted to the way they were making me feel. Safe. Warm. Cherished. Protected. Owned. I took a deep breath that shuddered through my body. The combination of his breath mingling with mine and the tingle of his palm against my neck was heady and intoxicating. The dizzy from his words and the response they’d elicited inside me, I wanted to give in. I wanted to tell him yes. I wanted to tell him we could do that. That, despite our addictions, two opposite poles, we could make it work.