Adicción Perfecta Novels & Stories

Harry opened one of his desk drawers and took out a small bottle and presented it to her \" One drop of that medicine every day in a cup of coffee is able, within weeks, to make it commit suicide \" \" What does a bottle contain \" \" No, Aline is a group of drugs combined with specific proportions that some parties use to get rid of their enemies without any suspicions, as it works to cause a person to become depressed until he develops into the desire to end his life with the same ، He thought that that way he would reach eternal rest \" \" How long does Adam need to think about ending his life \" \" A man like him may need two weeks or more, he is very strong, sharp, his body will not res

Even though the 3310 is as indestructible as Mjölnir, this particular gadget didn’t come in a box with a charger that he could’ve used behind Miss Perfect’s back. Miss Perfect. Trini Blanca. Vice-President and prefect of Camp Unplugged. Warden and psycho psychologist. She wouldn’t be too happy tomorrow to discover that Nate had left behind the oldest trick in the book: pillows mimicking the contours of a human body and covered with his blanket. Unfortunately, he still had to take his QD dose of Vortioxetine at the 9-pm flashlight check because Miss Perfect always checks in case he just tucked the tablet under his tongue. End result: he’s now feeling a bit woozy.

I just clung to him, weak and floating in leftover pleasure. “Customized toy night is over, little one,” he said softly, kissing my sweaty forehead. “You took everything so beautifully. Tomorrow is the final step. Addicted forever. After that, you will be our perfect creation, kept here in constant pleasure.” I looked up at him with hazy, glassy eyes and whispered the truth that filled every part of me now. “I’m already addicted, sir… I never want anything else. Please keep me like this forever.” He smiled and carried me back to my quarters, the neural link purring happily in my mind, already dreaming of the next night of endless pleasure.

“Yeah, why not? All this must be perfect. And for you I will make sure it is.” “Thank you Adrian.” “Don’t thank me yet. Wait till I make it all perfect for you. Then you can thank me.” “What do you mean?” “Don’t worry. Just know you are forgiven.” .

All addictions are bad, Unless they give you a reason to live. All controls are good, Until they take away all your reasons to live. .....................................................

The feel of his voice in my ears felt right. I made up excuses to ignore the fact that it was the first time, I had tasted perfection and I was getting addicted to it. I didn't want to get addicted to it because I thought something far better was waiting back home for me but the truth is - nothing is better than perfection. You can never do better than perfection... I should have just stopped looking when I found it. I should have just given up and lost myself in his intoxicating presence but I didn't because I was stubborn, foolish, and an idiot.

Ricochet had always been the strongest drug—more addictive, and ten times harder to quit. I was yearning for the right touch, horny as fuck, fully aware that this holy creation of perfection was dragging me straight into breaking every promise I’d made to myself. And the worst part? I wanted to fall. I wanted the taste of whatever heaven he was about to take me. He grabbed my ankle, not rough, not forceful, but firm enough to make my breath hitch. His thumb stroked over the inside of my ankle slowly, lazily, like he had all the time in the world. The touch was light, but it sent heat crawling up my leg.

It was bittersweet, and my heart broke all over again when I pulled away. He stood, staring at me, his eyes burning a heartbroken hole into my back. I walked to the door, every part of me hurting, my soul being ripped to shreds by my own words, and opened it. “I don’t want fucking perfect. I want you. Just you.” “I’m sorry,” I whispered one last time before stepping through the doorway. Walking away from pain into pain. Because that was addiction. A never-ending circle of pain and devastation. If you have the object you crave, you hurt.

“I’ve never met anyone else so perfect for me—inside and outside of the bedroom—and I’m not letting you go. I’m gonna take you any way I can get you, baby girl. Any way at all. Even if that means it’s on your terms.” “You’re crazy,” I whispered, a tear falling down my cheek. “You don’t get what my addiction is, do you? You don’t get how I could destroy you, me, and everyone around us. I could hurt us all without batting an eyelid because that’s what my addiction is. It’s just too tempting to fight.” “You’re the biggest addiction I’ve ever been faced with. I’m not going to let you hurt us. Do you see that?” “No, because you don’t know.”

“The partnership is already over, Freddie by whoever took these pictures on my private residency. The world now knows that Model Perfect’s model girl isn’t dating Hunter anymore. You can’t cover this up. There’s no way. And besides Freddie, if this means I am getting fired, I could careless at this point…because…I quit. I quit…” I turn around. I need to be rid of Model Perfect and the toxic relationship they have with me. They have controlled my entire life for the last two years. Even if Freddie cares for me, I can’t stay here. Our friendship is not a reason to stay in the toxic shadows of Model Perfect and their bullshit image of perfection. “You can’t quit you are under contract.” I flip