Stripper's Love: Addicted To Me

Blood and Desire

Weeks had passed since I last saw Sebastian. He hadn’t come around the club, and according to the manager, the same mysterious man hadn’t reached out. No messages, no calls, nothing. I didn’t know what was happening in the city, but I was aware of the danger. Sebastian’s family the Sinclair were notorious, part of the mafia elite, and they had enemies on the West Coast trying to claim their territory.

That night, I was returning home from the club alone. Priscilla had gone to her boyfriend’s place, leaving me to navigate the streets in the darkness. When I reached the entrance to my flat, I froze.

Sebastian was there. Lying in a pool of blood.

Shock froze my limbs. Fear clawed at my chest. I dropped my bag and rushed to him, lifting him into my arms as best I could. Panic surged. I didn't know what to do, who to call. I grabbed my first aid kit, desperate, and began to stop the bleeding. His hands were cold as ice, his skin pale against the red stains, and for a moment, I thought he might be gone.

I worked frantically, cleaning his wounds, bandaging him, all while my mind betrayed me. Despite the danger, despite the blood, my eyes kept drifting to his chest. It was… impossibly, ridiculously perfect. Strong, sculpted, like it had been carved just to torment me. My thoughts betrayed me entirely. I felt something that wasn’t just fear or sympathy, and shame washed over me instantly.

Then his voice cut through the haze, low and teasing: “Do you like what you see?”

I snapped back, heart pounding. I set aside the fantasy and focused on him, making him food as he ate methodically, like every bite was practice for something far more serious.

He asked to use my phone, and I agreed, quietly letting him call his assistant. I relayed what I could that he should be picked up in the morning and then helped him shower and get settled. I told him he could sleep in my room, and I’d take the other.

Even so, the heat between us was unbearable. My body betrayed me; I couldn’t stop imagining him touching me, I want to be f****d, ruined,chocked and marked until I'm a moaning crying mess leaking all over his sheet . It was impossible to focus, every glance at him setting my mind on fire. The danger, the blood, the chaos everything only made the desire stronger.

I lost track of time entirely. I didn’t notice when the full moon rose, didn’t notice the hours slipping by as I hovered in that tension-filled bubble of fear and lust.

When I finally woke, he was gone. My room was empty, the flat quiet. I let out a long breath of relief and gratitude. On the bed, I noticed a piece of paper left behind his number . He had vanished, but the memory of him lingered, burned into my senses, impossible to shake.

Just a few hours after Sebastian left the house, my phone buzzed with an urgent alert. It was my father's call, he told me I needed to meet someone who was handling some matters for them, someone moving things around, apparently. They said it was important, that it had to do with the family’s affairs. But underneath it all, I knew what they were really thinking: the topic of my mother’s medical bills.

I left quickly, heading to the May’s Bean Hotel, a place that now felt far too familiar yet strangely intimidating. When I arrived, I met the man responsible for handling the payment. We discussed the bills, the deadlines, and the arrangements, but my focus kept slipping. The way he stared at me made my skin crawl, yet at the same time, sent a flush rising to my cheeks. I sipped nervously at the drink in front of me, pretending calm.

Minutes passed, and suddenly I felt heat creeping through me, a strange, dizzying discomfort. My chest tightened, my palms slick with sweat. I needed air. I stood abruptly, murmuring an excuse, and moved toward the corridor, desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere.

And then… I bumped into someone I never expected.

Time froze.

Sebastian.

He was standing there, the air around him charged, impossibly calm yet dangerous, his eyes locking on mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. I barely had a moment to react before he reached out, his hands firm on my arms, pulling me toward him.

“Celestia,” he murmured, his voice low, almost commanding. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”

Before I could protest, he guided me through the hotel corridors, every step deliberate, until we arrived at the presidential suite. The sheer size and luxury of the room left me breathless, but it wasn’t the decor that unsettled me, it was him. The way he held me close, the way his gaze burned into mine, claiming me in a way that felt both dangerous and irresistible.

I leaned back slightly, the world tilting around me, and my gaze dropped. That's when I really saw it. My eyes widened.

"Oh my Sebastian."

Something was very, very different about this dream... or nightmare because under the towel was a clear outline of him.

Unbelievable. No way a real human being was built like this.

I blinked, my hand moving without thought. I ran my fingers lightly over the towel.

"This feels too real," I whispered, mostly to myself.