Death Addict Novels & Stories

“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.”

"Where is she?" Victor Moretti stepped into the light — silver-haired now, older, the same warm, dangerous smile his father used to trust across a boardroom table. "Still impatient." Victor studied him with something close to fondness. "Your father would be proud. Cold. Efficient. Walking into a warehouse alone because you've convinced yourself love requires it." "She's alive?" "For now." "You drugged my father. Erased my memory. Let me mourn a woman who wasn't dead." Alexander's voice stayed level, dangerously so. "Give me one reason not to end this tonight."

April's POV I took a deep breath and let the words spill out, like a dam breaking. "I'm an addict," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm addicted to prescription pills, opioids, and other substances." The room fell silent, except for Augustine's sudden burst of laughter.

I got out coldly, the hate in my chest burning through my lungs. He stared at me then shook his head. "I knew the girl was going to be trouble, first you killed Metz and wiped out his whole clan, then you went after your own brother" I stepped closer to him, my gaze boring into his dark eyes. "Didn't Metz's death benefit you? Don't be such a hypocrite father, as for Ethan, he shouldn't have messed with my woman" Just thinking about what he did had my blood raging again. The doctor said she'd been drugged a lot in the past week with benzodiazepines and some other drugs that were detrimental to her health, but that she was going to recover with no adverse effect after finishing her treatment.

She bounced her ass on my lap, and I gripped it tightly, slapping it every once in awhile while I still drank from her. She cried out and moaned greedily, taking my dick. I felt her contract and cream all over me, causing me to grunt and release myself into her tight pussy. I kept sucking and sucking until suddenly she went limp. I pulled out and looked at her. I listened to her chest and couldn’t find a heartbeat. “Fuck!” I yelled. I did it again. Every once in a while, I’d drink too much and kill someone.

They paid double when we kissed and swapped their cum between our mouths. Back home, the addiction consumed us completely. We loved it. The soreness between our legs after a long night, the sticky feeling of dried cum on our skin, the way our pussies throbbed with memories of being stretched and used. “We’re addicted, baby,” Mom moaned one night as she ground her clit against mine after a particularly brutal session with four clients. “And I fucking love it. Your dad’s death left me empty. You filled me with this… this fire.”

For a moment he was flooded with euphoria, the adrenaline-laced blood too rich and addictive when he'd been so long without and so very closing to turning. "So good. Do not stop. Feel the rush. Do not stop. There is nothing like it in the world. Join us, brother. Be with us. Take it all. Every drop." Kane heard several voices whispering the temptation. The buzzing in his head grew louder until it was almost painful. It is forbidden to take a life. "A cat only. Nothing to one such as you. He attacked you. Why should you give him his life when he would have killed you?"

I can't go to the Liquor Store or any one in New York for that matter, I've been banned, word spreaded. Rye is dead, which means my only friend and my only shit supplier is dead, I have to get a dealer as soon as possible. I don't have the strength to go through withdrawal symptoms, not that I have any thoughts of quitting drugs. It's an addiction, my life now, no need to sugarcoat shit, I'm a stoner, a junkie, does life gets any better, or any worse?

"Glimmer 2.0. Triple the high, ten times the addiction." In the pool, bodies writhed together. She couldn't count how many. A mass of flesh and desperate movement. Someone's face went under the water. No one noticed or cared. "That woman's drowning—" "She's coming." His grip kept her still. "The drug makes them chase death and orgasm equally." The woman surfaced, gasping, then pulled someone else under with her. "They'll fuck until their hearts give out. Best high of their lives. Also their last." "You're murdering them."

My mouth was dry and I felt like crying. "It went on for years, Dear, starting from when he was sixteen. Then, there was all these debts building up from his addiction. Sometimes even strange men would come around demanding money or dropping him off at the doorstep..." her voice faded into the background but was still the peak of my interest. I looked up from her to the room around me and met a pair of familiar light blue eyes staring back. Zac was standing at the door, his smile was wide and his eyes carefree, and I knew that even if I tried to smile, he would know that something was wrong anyway.