Perfectly Addicted Novels & Stories

“Stupid soul… wonder how much power these people actually have. Even my father fears them. This is insane.” His assistant whispered, “Sir, your blood pressure—” “Don’t talk about my blood pressure,” Damian snapped. “Talk about how to fix this fucking mess.” He loosened his collar and kept working, hands flying across keyboards, eyes locked on the flickering numbers. Every second counted. Meanwhile, across the city, Aria sat curled on her bed, her laptop open, her world spinning. Tears streaked her face. Her voice trembled as she whispered to herself, “It can’t be… It just can’t.”

"And I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name." Yes. God, yes. The addiction was real, and I was diving in headfirst. “Please."

all I could think was: When can we do it again? I was addicted. And there was no rehab for this.

I miss the way I fit so perfectly inside her, like we were two broken pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. We are fucking perfect together. And sooner or later, she’s going to stop fighting it. She needs to stop holding back and start accepting it, because I know she feels it. I know she’s just as addicted to me as I am to her. A sharp knock at the door shattered my concentration. I looked down at my lap; I was sporting a full-blown hard-on just from the thoughts running through my head. ‘That’s what you do to me, Barbie. You ruin me without even trying.’

“We’re keeping you all weekend. No work. Just this. We’re going to fuck every hole until you can’t walk straight.” Messy smiled weakly, body buzzing, sore in the most delicious way. She pressed her face against Kane’s chest and whispered, “Yes, Daddies… please.” She was already addicted. And they had only just started.

Fucked senseless by a man who looks at me like I’m priceless. And God help me, I’m already addicted.

I pulled off Tyler’s cock with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting my lips to his glistening head, and looked up at all six men with pure addiction in my eyes. “Because last night broke me in the best way possible,” I confessed breathlessly. “One cock isn’t enough anymore. I need to be surrounded, stretched, filled, and covered. I need to be passed around and used like a cheap cumdump while my boyfriend watches. I’m addicted… and I don’t ever want to be cured.” The room filled with low, hungry groans. Tyler grabbed my head and pushed back into my throat.

You’re caught in the grip of a craving that makes you feel more alive and more fucking miserable at the same time. The thought of her, the image of her perfect body, the way she tasted—it's a poison I can't escape. And now that I’ve had a taste, it’s not a matter of if I’ll be addicted. It’s a matter of how deep I’ll let it sink in before it consumes me whole. It is dangerous. Too dangerous for a man in power like me. But goddammit did she feel good.

As pleasure consumes me, I go still, my legs unable to move, even as the pulsing inside urges me to take him deeper somehow and never release him. He growls into my chest. “You are my addiction, Ariella. How are you so fucking perfect?”

pounding her in missionary position, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his cock destroying her with each thrust. "You're never going to be satisfied with Ryan again," he said, his face inches from hers. "Every time he fucks you with that little dick, you're going to be thinking about me. About this. About my cock filling you, stretching you, making you scream." "Yes," Eva sobbed. "God, yes." "You're going to come back to me. Again and again. Because you're addicted now. Aren't you?" "Yes! I'm addicted!" "Say you're mine."