Addicted

Addicted
Charlotte Stein

Kit Connor has always led a safe, cautious life. But when Kit’s friend points out that her erotic writing lacks something, she decides to attend a Sexual Healing group to improve her knowledge.Kit expects to find the gritty underbelly of sex, and instead finds louche, laidback, sex-loving Dillon Holt.Dillon makes a suggestion to Kit: that he will tell tales of his sexual excess, and help her book get the realism it needs. She agrees, but hasn't the least idea of what she's getting into.Dillon doesn't have simple advice in mind … he has lessons to teach her. Lessons on everything she's never dared to experience, from kink to real passion.Now Kit is never sure: is Dillon the addict, or is she just addicted to him?From Charlotte Stein, the author of the bestselling Mischief titles ‘Power Play’, ‘Make Me’ and ‘Deep Desires’.

Addicted

Charlotte Stein

(http://www.mischiefbooks.com)

Copyright

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.mischiefbooks.com (http://www.mischiefbooks.com)

Copyright © Charlotte Stein

Cover design: Head Design 2017, cover images: Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com)

Charlotte Stein asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Ebook Edition 2013 © ISBN 9780007491605

Version: 2017-08-19

Contents

Cover (#ufe065184-322d-55c8-b7b5-f2cdbe9945c7)

Title Page (#ucc36e992-6ff4-588e-b0cd-de65f6870fa2)

Copyright (#u46600d13-2db5-50f1-9383-23467d1c10e1)

Chapter One (#u8237f396-d722-5588-8998-c1a6470ca665)

Chapter Two (#u28f9d0b2-664b-5a55-b9dd-df0fe88ec549)

Chapter Three (#uaaa8bc3d-8ce3-56cc-8ebb-48dd18449bfb)

Chapter Four (#u1087cff4-c0ba-594f-b732-e16386e17e11)

Chapter Five (#u94d0e629-588a-574a-adf2-c6a269550284)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

More from Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

About Mischief (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

The Master, by Kit Connor

I know how wicked I must look, all bound like this. He hasn’t even used something decent like a length of rope or a nice scarf. He’s used fat strips of red ribbon, and everywhere he’s wrapped them I can feel their thick edges digging into my flesh. Can feel them turning me into something obscene – breasts pushed up and out by the presence of them laced beneath, eyes sightless behind scarlet silk.

Yet no matter how lewd I look – how ready to be used – he doesn’t make a move towards me. I can hear his heavy footsteps against the glossy wooden floors of this expensive apartment, and occasionally there’ll be another hint of him: the faint tang of his cologne.

But nothing substantial.

I don’t get anything substantial until I hear the whisper of his breath, and have to wonder if that sound is slightly heavier than it would usually be. Do I look good enough to make my Master pant with anticipation, perhaps?

I doubt it, but find myself hoping anyway. I always hope, no matter how unlikely it is that he would show me the smallest sign of his own pleasure. He is like granite, my Master, he is a rock I cannot penetrate, and yet he moves me to do things I never thought I was capable of.

‘Take your clothes off,’ he had said to me, and I did it. I didn’t even ask him to close the curtains over the broad glass-covered cityscape that I know lies behind him and in front of my bound form. We’re high up here in this island of luxury – London is just a dot – but it’s possible that someone could catch sight of me. Someone might look out of their high-rise window and see me across the city – a faint blur of naked skin, striped with red.