Addicted Vs Obsessed Novels & Stories

He didn't know what she had been doing to him these days but he could see that he was loosing control. That was the last thing he wanted. He was supposed to be in control while she begged and pleaded with him. He had been the one to propose this offer in the first place, so everything about it should be his call. He was still consumed in his thoughts when he felt cold air rush against his skin. He looked down to see that his shirt was no longer on him and his pants were now at his ankle and Leila was working on drawing down his boxers. He heaved a huge sigh. He was getting addicted to her. He needed to fight this addiction before it took over his power over her and make him lost to her. Perh

And I definitely didn’t stop when I began to sway and my vision tunneled. Because as I said, I am a member of the black cross and those bitches need to see it.

I point out, arching an eyebrow. "No, but I'm obsessed. Maybe I'm not addicted to alcohol, but I am addicted to work. You said it yourself, remember? I'm a workaholic. I don't have anything else. I worry I wouldn't be able to fix myself, and I wouldn't be around for much."

He didn’t have to. Every time I saw his name light up my phone, I ran to him. And every time, it got worse. Rougher. Wilder. More addictive. I didn’t just crave the sex. I craved him—his control, his dominance, the way he made me feel like I was his to own. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even affection. It was obsession. And it grew like fire behind closed doors. The more I tried to fight it, the deeper I sank.

A man who deserves to have her for the remainder of my life. Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles. “While you were away, I woke up every night expecting to see you standing there.” I had stayed awake every night, wanting to be here. Dangerous, so dangerous. She could become an addiction. I am well aware of what happens to men who can not get enough of gambling, liquor, or opium. I have to put a stop to my growing obsession with her, of wanting to be in her company.

I looked at the bottle in his hand and said, my tone dry, “And you are doing a good job of it.” He stared at me like he wanted to poke his tongue out or punch me in the face, and with Olezka either could happen. Then, he asked, “How long have you obsessed over my brother, Lachlan?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “I bet it’s been long enough that now it has become a habit, an addiction. Your nature, something that’s part of you. And if someone asked you to stop it, will you?” “I get it. You have been drinking long enough that you can’t stop it. It’s an addiction. But you know what’s the difference between your addiction and mine, Olezka?” I took the bottle from him. “Mine doesn’t keep me

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

And now I was fucking consumed. I wanted to embed myself In her. I wanted her world to revolve around mine since mine revolved around her. I wanted to drive her crazy, wanted to make her lose control... I wanted to drive myself deep into her subconscious as she had done to me, and ultimately, I wanted her to surrender her life and lay it down at my feet, even if I was the one welding the knife to take it. It was deranged. It was crazy but I was addicted. I was obsessed and I was never going to let her go.

He yelled and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. I like that pain. "Everything I do is for you because I love you. Why don't you understand that I can't let you leave because I'm addicted to you. You're opium and not seeing you when I want to can drive me crazy," I watched him express himself while I marveled at the kind of orientation he had. I concluded that he was not normal and needed to be properly checked. He was obsessed with me. This man was crazy.

Just imagine. I don't know about anything but I think I'd be even more crazed than I was right now. Maybe I've been obsessed. Addicted, cause he definitely had the potential of making an innocent woman addicted to him. The things he did, oh God. "I need a drink," I muttered, breathless as I swallowed. "Cold water isn't doing it anymore. It's not."