Pervert Addiction Latest Novels & Stories

Amber had been young, but not all that inexperienced as she had already been turning tricks here and there to support her addiction to pills. Out on the streets, she’d kept herself off of Meth, Heroine, and Coke only because she was hell bent not to be like her mother. She had since understood how delusional her thinking had been back then, because an addict was still an addict. She had remained clean since she stepped foot inside the club five years ago. No easy feat when drugs were as easy to get here as blow jobs. She’d thrown herself into her training and then becoming the best sexual Goddess this club had to offer.

In the glittering heights of a Montreal penthouse, architect Elena Voss surrenders to a stranger whose touch rewrites every boundary she has ever known. Damien Laurent, a powerful and controlling investor, does not simply seduce her—he claims her, edging her against rain-streaked glass until she shatters, body and will, in an explosion of forbidden pleasure. What begins as one reckless night becomes an addiction neither can escape. When Elena discovers Damien is the key investor behind her firm’s most critical project, desire collides with ambition. Professional meetings turn into charged power plays. Hotel suites during business trips become stages for escalating BDSM rituals—rope, denial,

"How many more young girls do you need to satisfy that sex addiction of yours? Serving justice in public, but stepping on it in the dark." "Of course, I'm not a good man either. You saved me from spending the rest of my life in jail, and I thought I saw a glimmer of hope. But no, working for you over the past decade has been torment. And it still is every now and then." Stella held another piece of paper in her hand. "I'm slowly becoming a pervert myself. The way you yearn for her turns me on."

“You’re not expelled—yet—but the board is requiring a psychological evaluation. Weekly therapy. Sexual addiction counseling.” I laughed. “Is that a thing? Real therapy for sex addicts?” He didn’t answer. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go. Talk about my daddy issues or whatever makes you feel better.” He handed me a paper with an address. “You start tomorrow. 5 PM. Don’t be late.” I didn’t plan to take it seriously. I didn’t plan to take him seriously either. That was before I met him. The building was quiet. No receptionist. Just a black leather couch in the waiting room, a ticking wall clock, and a faint smell of leather and something woodsy—cedar, maybe.

At least there is one person in his family who doesn't like her. "The years have been really tough for him," she tells me. The smell of tea was strong on her breath. "Has it really? How so?" I asked, hoping she would share more about the boy I clearly didn't know much about, yet loved him so much. I leaned in closer. "Oh yes, I think you can really help him with his addiction problem, terrible thing. Isla and Garret never knew how to handle it properly." My head inches closer and the wind is knocked out of me. Did I hear her right?

so this girl trick me he course under his breath and ran after her" and then burst into laughter rolling on the field. She found a place to hide herself and she switches on the phone"fuck"password" she stare at the phone angrly wishing that can break it" and Jeremy hug her from behind leaving no space between them, you thought you can delete the picture right he asked while she frowned her face.

"I know you have been stalking me. How long has it been going on like that? To meet your grandfather, you stoop this low, like paying those homeless people there to kill me? What? Did you plan to meet him in the morgue or graveyard?" Her back stiffened as Bash used that word. Graveyard. It triggered a memory that she had to shake away from her mind. "It's your...mental breakdown talking. It's okay. I can feel you." She lowered her gaze, not wanting Bash to see her red-rimmed eyes. Trying hard to keep her emotions at bay, she ranted, "That is normal after what happened to you in that street. People there can be violent because of poverty, unemployment, and addiction that an addict can't get r

“I’m yours, Ronald. Pussy, mouth, ass… all of it. Whenever you want.” They came together, slowly, sealing their secret getaway with one more load of cum inside her. On the drive back, Rebecca slept in the passenger seat, her body sore, her pussy and ass throbbing, covered in marks and dried cum. The addiction was now complete. There was no going back. The taboo between the cousins now included every hole, every desire, and an even deeper and more dangerous complicity.

The drinks were spiked with potent and deadly addictive drugs. He started to be out of control. Even his parents gave up since Pete would keep relapsing from his therapy and treatment. And as known to many, their families included, that Eula was Pete’s mate, the two families agreed to let the two live together despite the fact that Pete was going on and off the grid of sanity. He would be sober at times, but his episodes did not disappear.

Then we sat down to breakfast together with our mates. It was a pleasant breakfast with good conversation and occasional laughter until Penny brought up a serious topic. “Hayburg University and the town are having trouble with a new street drug,” she said. “I heard it was just a rumor,” William said. “Who would want to put that kind of garbage into their body?” “No, I heard the same thing is happening in Denhurst,” Victor said. “They call the drug Ice.” “Yes, that’s it,” Penny agreed. “It’s horribly addictive and fairly cheap. That must be why it’s gaining such popularity with young Betas.”