Stephen King Addiction Novels & Stories

I walk around, eyes blank, pussy dripping, mind filled with one thing— His cock. I want it. I need it. Thick. Deep. Ruthless. Shoved down my pussy again and again until I’m clawing at the sheets and screaming his name. This addiction… he warned me about it. “I’m gonna fuck you until the only thing you think about is my cock.” He said that. And fuck, he wasn’t lying. He’s all I think about. I try to clean.. or even concentrate on my kitchen work. I try to sleep. I try to breathe—

Sarah had become background noise. Mia was my addiction. And I had no plans to stop.

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.

Before someone sees me, like I was an embarrassment that needed to be cleaned up before it stained their reputation. I looked at Dante standing by that window with his arms crossed and his eyes cold. I looked at Mateo with his guilty face and his gentle voice telling me to leave. And I saw it so clearly it nearly killed me. While I'd been falling in love and counting down the days and building a future in my head, they'd been enjoying forbidden sex with the step-sister they were never going to choose. I was the thrill. The taboo. The dirty secret that made them feel alive.

Yet my cock twitched again at the memory of his mouth, his growl, his cum down my throat. I stood there alone in the kitchen for a minute, staring at the counter where he’d lifted me. The marble still felt cool under my palms. Shame washed over me, mixed with something darker and addictive. This was my stepbrother now. My mom’s husband’s son. And I had just let him, begged him, almost to use my mouth while they walked in the door.

The kind of love I felt with her was different, unique, and special. "You love her?" He shook his head and looked down. I guess he knew he had messed up badly. But my whole attention was on that word *love*. Were my feelings for her more than an addiction? I never thought the day would come when I would become addicted to love. I stared at him with no emotions in my eyes, but a thought—a thought of giving her everything she has been missing—appeared in my head. "Tell me what have you done to her in the past." I looked at him and shoved one hand in my coat’s pocket. I wanted to know where to start from.

Ivanna Venessa's words had affected me. When Christian talked like that, Venessa's words flashed in my mind. Why would I do it? I don't know about habits and addictions. However, I can accept that Christian is my addiction which I can not give up. I'll think about him and talk about him for hours. I don't need anyone else to explore. What will I do by exploring? I'm living in my tiny world which is enough for me.

But occasionally, I’ll glance up at Clint to be sure that was still there. “What happened to me fucking those other addictions out of your system, Keira?” “That’s not the same! That’s just replacing an addiction with another addiction. I would have to be out of my mind to get myself addicted to your cock.” “What’s so bad about getting addicted to it? It’s all yours if you want it,” Clint said, his voice dangerously low and seductive as he shifted towards me, narrowing the space by a great deal. “What about the woman I met here?” I blurted out without any thought.

My name was Lindsey Hawthorn, and I had struggled with this compulsion for as long as I could remember. Everyone always thought I was a good, quiet girl, but only I knew the truth—the intense, almost unbearable craving I had for men. Just the sight of a strong, muscular man was enough to make me weak. By the time I reached college, this need had completely spiraled out of control. Sometimes, even the slightest friction while walking would trigger an overwhelming release. People would stare, probably thinking I had wet myself.

Background histories. Women. Dozens of them. Tiana’s breath caught. “What is this?” Lucas scrolled. “They all have something in common. Financial hardship. Family tragedy. Health issues. Emotional vulnerability.” Her stomach dropped. “He’s been selecting candidates,” she whispered. “For what?” Vince asked. Lucas looked grim. “Psychological influence. Controlled proximity. He was trying to find someone who could get close to you.” The realization hit like a physical blow. “I wasn’t the only one,” Tiana said.