5/6
Addicted To You
Addicted To You
~Lyra~
As soon as I stepped into the penthouse and my eyes landed on Damon, everything stopped.
Like literally everything.
My lungs forgot how to work, my heart f*****g imploded, and every single thought in my brain melted into one single, overwhelming, unbearable need..
I just wanted him to f**k me. f**k me senseless. f**k me stupid. f**k me until my voice cracked and my body forgot how to work. f**k the living hell out of me.
Oh my f*****g God, I’d missed him.
I’d missed the way he stood like he owned the world. The way his slacks hung off his hips like they were tailored by sin itself. The way his chest rose and fell slow, controlled, like his whole body was made of violence and patience wrapped in ink and rage.
He had a glass in one hand, a half–burnt cigar resting in the ashtray beside him, and that look on his face..that cold, cocky, lethal f*****g smirk that said he knew exactly what I looked like crying, moaning,
gagging on his c**k, and begging for more.
My thighs elenched the second our eyes met.
I felt it..this white–hot pulse between my legs like my cunt recognized its f*****g master before my mouth
could even open.
And the way he looked at me?
Like I was prey.
Like I was property.
Like I was the c*m–drunk little toy who’d dared to block his number, and now I was about to pay
second I made him wait.
I couldn’t even breathe right.
for every
My whole body was screaming. Every inch of me was on fire. I felt the slick in my panties the second I took my next step, and it wasn’t even subtle anymore. It was soaked. Humiliatingly soaked. Like I’d been edging for a week and my body just gave up the second I saw him.
He stepped toward me, slow, like he had all the time in the f*****g world and wanted me to suffer for every
second of it.
And I swear to God–I swear–I almost dropped to my knees before he even touched me.
I could feel it. That ache in my jaw. That twitch in my throat. That empty, hungry, desperate f*****g pressure in my core that screamed fill me, ruin me, own me again.
I wanted him to grab me. Slam me against the wall. Tear my clothes off and spit in my mouth. I wanted his belt across my ass and his cm down my throat and his c**k buried so deep inside me that I could taste it in the back of my f*****g skull. I didn’t care how it happened. I didn’t care if he made me beg or scream or sob–l
1/5
Addicted To You
just wanted him.
I needed him.
I needed daddy.
And when he finally spoke, when that low, possessive growl hit the air and he asked me what took so long, I swear I almost came right there in the doorway.
My knees buckled.
My cunt clenched.
My heart practically exploded.
Because I knew what came next.
He wasn’t going to be gentle. He wasn’t going to hold me and tell me it was okay. He was going to f**k the apology out of my mouth and make me thank him for every second of it.
And God help me..I wanted it.
The second his eyes dropped to my thighs, I knew I was done for.
And then he said it.
He said it low. Rough. Like he was talking to himself.
“Well, well. Did you grow thicker overnight?”
My lungs seized.
My p***y clenched so hard I nearly cried.
I wanted to die and scream and moan all at once because he was still staring..still looking at me like I was something worth breaking open, like every curve was a challenge and every soft part of me was just another place for him to leave his f*****g mark.
He took one slow step forward, and then another, until his body was right in front of mine. I could feel the heat coming off his skin. I could smell him–cologne and smoke and s*x and something wild underneath that made my insides twist like I’d been drugged by my own hormones.
“Gosh,” he muttered, voice like gravel dragged across silk. “Look at your fat ass and thighs.”
I choked on air.
Like actually choked.
Because the way he said it wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t mean. It was worse. It was reverent. It was filthy. It was the kind of voice a man uses when he’s about to drop to his knees and eat a girl alive.
And I could feel my whole body start to shake because I wanted that. I wanted his mouth. I wanted his hands. I wanted his c**k. I wanted every inch of this man and every word that came out of his mouth to be inside me, around me, all over me.
His hands came up slowly–almost like he was giving me time to run, but we both knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
His fingers slid under the hem of my top. They didn’t yank. They didn’t tear. They just slipped in like they
< Addicted To You
belonged there, warm and commanding, and my breath hitched so loud it echoed in the room.
“Let me see it,” he whispered, and the sound of those words against my ear almost made me fall to my knees. “All of it. Every inch that’s been keeping me up at night.”
He started lifting my shirt.
Slow.
Tormentingly slow.
Like he was unwrapping a present he wanted to play with for hours before f*****g it senseless.
I lifted my arms automatically, breath shaking, n*****s already so hard they brushed against the fabric and sent shivers down my spine. He peeled it off inch by inch until it was over my head and on the floor, and then his hands moved down again–this time to the waistband of my skirt.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
All I could do was stare up at him with wide eyes and parted lips, praying he didn’t see how wet I already was.
He did.
Of course he f*****g did.
He grinned, low and dangerous, as his fingers slipped between the band and my skin.
“You were made for this,” he said, dragging the skirt down over my hips like he was watching a performance tailored just for him. “You were made to be stripped like this. Undressed slow. Worshipped. f****d. Ruined.”
I whimpered.
Actually whimpered.
Because the way he looked at me in that moment–like I was his personal addiction, like he’d been starving and I was the only thing in the world that could feed him–it made me forget every reason I ever tried to stay
away.
My skirt hit the floor.
He looked down at me–now just in my ruined, soaked panties and my bra–and smiled like he’d won
something.
And f**k, maybe he had.
He didn’t wait.
The second my skirt hit the floor, his hands were back on me..rougher now, more urgent, more possessive. His fingers slid under the curve of my ass and lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing, like my body belonged to him and his alone.
My arms flew around his shoulders, my legs locked around his waist, and my entire body pressed against his like we were two halves of something violent and dirty and inevitable.
His c**k was already rock hard between us, pressing up against my soaked panties and I swear I almost came from the pressure alone.
3/5
< Addicted To You
“You think I haven’t thought about this every f*****g night since I left?” he growled against my mouth, voice hot and thick with hunger. “You think I didn’t jerk off to the memory of this fat little cunt riding my c**k until f was cursing your name into my fist?”
I whimpered before I could stop myself, legs tightening around his waist, grinding down on him like my p***y had taken control of my body.
“You think I didn’t stare at the wall in some empty f*****g hotel room and imagine you like this? Wrapped
around me, begging me to ruin you again?”
He slammed me back against the wall so hard the impact knocked the air from my lungs. My back hit the smooth surface, my head tilted back, and then he kissed me–hard. Messy. Tongue and teeth and breath and
filth.
His mouth devoured mine, like he was trying to drink every second he’d missed, and I let him because ! wanted it just as bad. My fingers clawed at his hair, my thighs gripped him like a vice, and I kissed him back like if I did it right, maybe the pain in my chest would stop.
He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to mine, both of us panting, both of us trembling from how f*****g close we were to losing control.
“I missed you, too,” he said low, barely audible. “I missed this f*****g body. I missed the way you moan when I f**k you deep.
I missed the way you cry when you come so hard you forget your own name. I missed the taste of your cunt. The sound of your voice. The way you look at me like I’m God and the devil and your daddy all at once.”
I moaned so loud it echoed.
And then he shifted his hips.
I felt the pressure of his c**k through his slacks, grinding into my core like he already knew exactly where I
was aching.
“I should punish you,” he growled, mouth dragging down my jaw to my throat. “I should make you beg for every inch. I should tie you up and make you scream.”
He bit me–just under my ear, sharp enough to make me cry out–and then his fingers yanked my ruined panties to the side.
“But not tonight.”
He reached between us and unzipped himself, and I felt it–the heat, the weight, the sheer size of him pressing against my entrance like he was born to be there.
“Tonight,” he said, positioning himself against my soaked p***y, “I’m going to f**k you just like this.”
He pushed in–deep.
One hard, smooth, perfect thrust that slammed every inch of him inside me while I screamed into his neck.
My back arched.
My legs locked.
My nails dug into his shoulders as the burn spread through me, wild and beautiful and raw.
“f**k,” I sobbed, head falling back against the wall.
4/5
< Addicted To You
48 Bring 2:
“You missed this c**k?” he hissed in my ear, slamming in again so hard the picture frame beside us tilted.
I nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, daddy, I missed it so f*****g much…”
He grinned against my throat, his hands gripping my ass as he started to move, slow at first, then faster,
deeper, rougher.
“Good,” he growled. “Because you’re going to take every f*****g inch until I say stop.”
And then he really started f*****g me.
Hard.
Savage.
Right there against the wall with my legs shaking around his waist, my cunt fluttering with every thrust, my voice breaking apart into gasps and moans and cries of “Daddy, daddy, please….”
And Damon?
He just kept going.
Like he was never going to stop.
Royalty Writes
#Vote# Dear readers do not read this in public unless you have control over your body
11
2
Comments
