Always Wanting (Consumed, Book One 1)

by Alex Grayson

  I dump my suit jacket on the couch as I pass by and tug off my tie as I walk down the hallway. The moans become louder the closer I get to the bedroom. Sweat pops up on my forehead and my hands are shaky as I start on the buttons on my grey dress shirt. I kick the door open to the bedroom and stop in my tracks at what I see. My hands ball into fists and my jaw clenches so hard that I fear my teeth will crack. A growl rumbles in my chest, and it takes every bit of strength in my body not to pounce.

  Abby must hear me, because her eyes pop open wide, and the hand she’s currently using to pleasure herself stops its movement.

  “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I snarl, popping off the rest of the buttons on my shirt as I yank it off my shoulders. My hands immediately go to my belt next to work on my pants. I can’t get my clothes off fast enough.

  Abby’s lips tip up into a sexy smile as she watches me hurriedly get undressed. She’s sitting back on the bed, wearing a black tank top, and her panties still around one ankle. Part of the tank is pulled down with one tit hanging out. She looks like she was in too much of a hurry to get her clothes all the way off. It’s sexy as hell, and has my dick turning to stone.

  Her hand starts moving again, slipping her slippery fingers over her slit and dipping them back inside. She pulls them out, and I groan when she pinches her clit.

  My pants hit the floor and my legs carry me to the end of the bed, where I stand and start stroking my cock. My eyes travel up her legs, across the very tempting sight of her hand giving her pleasure, over her small, but no less gorgeous breasts, to the flutter of her heartbeat in her throat, and up to her eyes, which are currently full of nothing but carnal desire.

  “You’re late, Blue” she says, her voice just shy of being labeled a whimper.

  “You seem to be getting along just fine without me, Mrs. Blue” I say, using the name I’ve given her.

  Her breath hitches as her eyes watch my hand stroke myself, and hers moves faster on her pussy.

  “Yeah, but you know I’d much rather have your dick fucking me than my own fingers.”

  I hiss through my teeth at her words. I love my dirty girl. When she drops her hand from her tit and uses it to shove two fingers inside while she still plays with her clit with her other hand, I lose it.

  I grab both of her ankles and haul her down to the end of the bed, so her ass is halfway hanging off. I lift her hips, and without warning, slam my cock in as far as it will go.

  “Ahh…fuck yes!” she cries out, clutching the blanket above her head.

  I pull out and thrust back in. I know my hands will probably leave marks on her hips later as I grip them tight and pound away, but I’m unable to hold back. Walking in here and seeing my wife pleasuring herself was just too much for me to handle.

  Sweat trickles down my temples and back as I forcefully fuck the woman of my dreams. The woman I still to this day can never get enough of. Her walls grip me painfully tight, almost making it impossible for me to pull out and thrust back in. I bare my teeth and grunt when she looks at me and purposely tightens her walls even more. She knows just what she’s doing and what it does to me. She likes pushing me to the edge.

  It almost kills me, but I pull out from her tight sheath, flip her over, drag her to her knees, and climb up onto the bed behind her. Before she has a chance to really register what I’ve done, I’m slamming back inside her. One arm wraps around her waist, while the other gathers her hair and yanks her head back.

  “Is this what you wanted?” My voice comes out a guttural growl. “You know better than to push me, Abby. Is my cock fucking you good enough? Or do you want your fingers back?”

  I don’t wait for her answer before I’m pulling out, until just the tip is left inside, then driving forward again. She cries out, and her arms buckle beneath her from my thrusts. I follow her down, relentlessly fucking her into the mattress. Her head is turned to the side, so I bend further and claim her lips just like I’m claiming her body. My thrusts are frantic, and each time I push forward, a desperate sound leaves her lips.

  I release her hair and drop my forehead to the back of her neck when my orgasm takes over. I bury myself in as far as I can, and hiss when she finds her own. I drop small kisses against her damp skin, loving the taste of her on my lips. I fall to my side and take her with me, pulling her into the curve of my arms. She flips to her other side, so she’s facing me and lays her head on my chest. Both of us are still breathing heavily, and our hearts beat the same fast rhythm.

  I push a loose piece of hair off her face and bend to kiss the tip of her nose. We’ve been together for over a year now, living together for the past nine months, but each and every night that we spend together, I thank God for.

  “Sorry for running late,” I murmur against her hair, gently running my hand up and down her back. She snuggles even closer to me. “My damn meeting ran late, and then there was a wreck on the way home that had the road blocked for a while. I called, but it went to voicemail.”

  “Hmm…” She nibbles on my pec, making it jump, before clamping her teeth down on one of my nipples. I hiss, but take the pain, because I know she went through her own pain tonight.

  “It actually wasn’t that bad. I think you may be my cure.”

  Her words have my hand stopping on its downward motion. Over the last year, we’ve tried several different ways to appease her body’s cravings without having sex in the traditional sense. Some have worked, some haven’t. There’s only been a couple times that I haven’t been able to be there for her when she’s needed me, and was forced to rely on the pills she takes. She can go without sex as long as she has some type of stimulation from me. She doesn’t necessarily have to have my cum inside her, although when she doesn’t, she still gets the cramps, just not as bad. We can even get away with masturbating in front of each other, as long as both of us are present and reach our release. However, it doesn’t work when we have phone sex, an experiment we tried with her in the bedroom and me in the living room. Our guess is we have to be in each other’s presence. That was a tough one on me, knowing she was in the next room playing with herself, but not able to watch her damn near drove me crazy. Unfortunately, the pain came back that night. Luckily I was there to take care of her.

  I’ve mentioned to her about her going back to the support group, but she flat out refused, claiming she never felt comfortable being there, and felt it did nothing for her. I respected her views and never brought it up again. However, she does see a private psychiatrist once a month. At Abby’s request, I’ve been to a few meetings with her. She’s very intrigued with Abby’s case, and seems to be very interested in helping her. She also seems to think that I have a lot to do with Abby’s pain slowly receding.

  Which brings me back to what Abby just said.

  “You really think so?” I can’t help the hopeful tone.

  “Yeah.” She looks up at me and smiles. “Just think, it’s only been since I’ve met you I’ve been able to go without sex. I think you satisfy and ease something in me that’s never had that satisfaction before. It’s like my mind and body are finally in sync with each other. I may not ever be able to go completely without, but I know you’ll always be there, so that doesn’t matter anymore. And during the times you can’t be there, I finally realize that there’s no force on earth that could make me seek someone else out. No one could ever replace you.”

  Before she gets the last word out, I have her on her back with me looming over her. My lips slam down on hers, and I kiss the ever fucking hell out of her. This woman will forever be the only one for me. As corny and cliché as it sounds, she completes me in ways I never knew someone could complete another person.

  She’s my addiction, and I’ll gladly submit to that addiction every fucking day for the rest of my life.

  Two weeks later…

  Abby

  The steady whoosh whoosh sound coming from the monitor to my right has me completely mesmerized. I gaze at the black screen with white spirals on it wit
h tears filling my eyes. Colt’s hand squeezes mine, but I can’t move my eyes away. Another dream of mine is coming true. All because of the man standing beside me.

  The nurse moves the wand over my belly, and a second later, a loud thump thump can be heard around the room.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yep. That’s your baby’s heartbeat.” She moves it again and a small blip appears. “And that right there is your baby.”

  Tears silently slip down my face as I look at the small miracle Colt and I made. A miracle I’ve wanted with every fiber of my being, but was always so afraid I’d never have.

  “That’s our baby,” I whisper to Colt.

  He looks down at me, his eyes filled with love. “It is.” He raises my hand and kisses the back of it.

  “She’s going to be so beautiful.”

  “She?” he asks.

  I smile. “Yes. We’re going to have a girl.”

  His eyes flicker over to the monitor, then to the nurse, like he’s silently asking if she can tell the sex of the baby yet.

  I squeeze his hand, bringing his eyes back to me. “I don’t need her to tell me.” I place his hand over my heart. “I know in here we’re having a girl.”

  His answering smile leaves me breathless. When he cups my cheek and leans down for a kiss, I lift my head and meet him halfway. He sits on the side of the bed, my hand still in his, and we both look over at the monitor together. The nurse clicks away at the screen, taking measurements of our baby and making sure everything is as it should be.

  I lay my head against Colt’s chest and hear his heartbeat, mimicking the rhythm we just heard from our baby. My eyes get caught on the twinkle of the diamond on my left ring finger, and then on the dark band on Colt’s.

  I never knew life could be so good. Up until a year ago, I always thought my life would be caught in a web of endless, meaningless sex. Always wanting for my next fix. Forever waiting for something I could never have.

  Now, my heart belongs to a man that I know will always cherish and protect it. A man that accepts me for me, faults and all. A man that’s healed the broken parts inside me, and has made them stronger.

  A note from the author…

  Hypersexual disorder is a very controversial subject. Some researchers believe it stems solely from a person’s past, maybe some form of sexual abuse. Some believe it’s a chemical imbalance of the brain, while others feel it’s not even a medical condition, and the person is simply seeking attention.

  In Always Wanting, Abby’s case is extreme, possibly more extreme than any real case out there. I had a hard time finding research for hypersexual disorder, with cases that went into great detail regarding symptoms, and if people really do go through withdrawals. With that being said, I made Abby’s addiction the way it was because the entire subject of sexual addiction is fascinating to me. Always Wanting is purely fictional and meant to entertain, while still shedding light on a subject that isn’t touched very often. Can you imagine being addicted to sex and going through the pain Abby went through if you couldn’t find someone to have sex with?

  Although I made Abby’s addiction based on the sexual abuse she endured as a teenager, I do believe there are many different facets to hypersexual disorders. I do believe they exist, but I think that it’s such a touchy subject, one that we still don’t know much about, and therefore, gets looked over. Just because we don’t know as much as we’d like to know about hypersexual disorders, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

  I really hope you enjoyed Abby and Colt’s story, even if some of what Abby goes through is hard to believe and extreme. The imagination is vast, and can be anything you want it to be. ;)

  If you think you’re suffering from a hypersexual disorder, there is help.

  https://saa-recovery.org/

  Acknowledgements

  To me, this is always the hardest part of writing a book. Acknowledging the people that are part of each book is more difficult than you could imagine.

  As always, I want to first thank God, for giving me the courage to put my thoughts to paper and make it available for all to see.

  Next is my husband, my daughter, and my son. Thank you for encouraging me, and thank you for understanding when I take time away from you three to continue to follow my dream of writing. I love you all from the very bottom of my heart.

  To my Jaded Angels. You all rock, and I couldn’t ask for a better fan group!

  To my beta team. Thank you all for helping me make Always Wanting what it is. Your suggestions and recommendations are endlessly appreciated.

  Dana, with Rebel Edit & Design, I have no clue how you put up with my many mistakes you come across while editing, but I’m so grateful that you do. Thank you for sticking with me and for all that you do!

  Freya, with Rebel Edit & Design. Lady, your design skills still amaze me so much! Thank you so much for working so hard on Always Wanting’s cover! It couldn’t have turned out more fabulous!

  BT and Julie, thank you so much for allowing me to put you on my cover! You two knocked it out of the park with chemistry!

  Reggie, with RplusM Photography, thank you for taking such beautiful photos and allowing me to use one for my cover!

  To the bloggers, there are not enough words to express my gratitude for all that you do. Thank you a thousand times over!

  And to the readers, thank you so very much for taking a chance on me. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, it’s YOU that gives an author’s words meaning.

  Preview of Endless Obsession

  Curious about Asher and Poppy’s story? Turn the page for chapter one of Endless Obsession.

  Chapter One

  Asher

  I watch with anticipation as the stunning brunette in tall black heels, tight black knee-length pencil skirt, and white silk blouse marches up the sidewalk leading to her front door. She fumbles with her purse as she grabs for her keys, dropping them seconds later. With a look over her shoulder, she bends to pick them up.

  My dick jumps in my expensive dark gray slacks when her plump ass shows no panty lines.

  Fuck!

  She’s either not wearing any or she’s wearing a thong. My fingers twitch with the need to find out which.

  Standing, she looks over her shoulder again and a scowl appears on her face when she sees the dickhead that’s following her. I can’t help but chuckle at the desperate look on the guy’s face.

  She frantically tries to get the key into the lock before he reaches her, but she isn’t fast enough. She spins around when he reaches her and bends himself at the waist, trying to catch his breath. Fucking asshole is so weak he can’t even jog twenty feet. Again, my dick takes notice at the harsh look on her face as she watches the guy.

  He stands and says something to her. I can’t hear through the window of my Lexus, but whatever it is causes her to curl her lip up in disgust. She pokes him in the chest and screeches loud enough for me to hear. “You pig! Stay the hell away from me!”

  A rumbling laugh escapes my lips as I witness the firecracker take down the idiot. She’s so different than the woman I know. I can’t really blame the guy for trying. After all, I’m just as fascinated with her as he is. Hell, I’ve been watching her myself now for a year. The first time I saw her I had just walked out of Colt’s office. He’s a good friend of mine, who also happens to be a client. Something caught my attention, and I looked over and nearly fell to my knees at the beauty sitting on the brown plush leather couch in the waiting area. After unsticking my jaw from the floor, I turned to him and asked who she was.

  “Poppy Lexington,” he supplied, looking down at a file in his hand. “She’s here for an interview for the receptionist position.”

  Without thinking, I demanded, “Don’t hire her.” Even though my eyes were glued to Poppy, I still felt his questionable stare. “Refer her to my office. Make up some excuse if you have to, I don’t care. Just get her to my office.”

  When he didn’t answer after several se
conds of silence, I turned to him and caught him watching me warily. I raised a brow in question. No words were spoken, because none were needed. He knew I was serious by the look on my face.

  Since that day, I’ve lived, breathed, and slept Poppy. I know where she lives, obviously, and I also know where she works, who her family and friends are, her favorite foods, and how she takes her coffee. I know what she does on weekends and holidays, what size shoe she wears, what shampoo she uses, and the brand of her toothpaste. I know her mortgage and car payment, when they are due, what credit cards she has, and even the purchases she’s made with them. I know the layout of her house, what’s in her closet, that she likes expensive lingerie, and that she sleeps nude. The first time I witnessed the latter, I damn near lost control and gave myself up. I ended up jacking off into a pair of her silk panties.

  Sick? Yes, absolutely. But it was either that or crawl into bed with her, which wasn’t an option. I’m not up to getting thrown in jail for breaking and entering, or taking the chance of her finding me out. Fuck no. I need her too much. I need her to know and accept me first, without making a mess of things.

  It wasn’t until recently that I’d gotten myself into a position where I could approach her the way I want to; however, I’m not ready just yet. I’m having too much fun with my current game— a game she knows nothing about, but still participates in. Hell, who am I kidding? This isn’t a game, it’s more of an uncontrollable obsession. I love watching her, knowing she’s oblivious to it. It turns me on more than anything, or anyone, has before.

  I think it may be time to change things a bit—make them more thrilling—before I lose my patience and snap, giving into what I want too soon. The timing needs to be perfect.