All Chapters of Dirty and Sinful Collection (erotica) : Chapter 241 - Chapter 250

9Gabriel. Guilt is a steady drumbeat that won’t stop pounding, no matter how many times I try to silence it. It sits under my skin, pulses in my veins, makes every moment feel like I’m holding my breath underwater. This morning, after Mara slips out of the rectory; hair wild, lips bitten, face flushed with the triumph of secrets, I sit at my desk with my head in my hands, every part of me aching for something I know I shouldn’t want. I thought sin would feel sharp and electric. I didn’t expect it to feel so heavy.The church is busy all day: parishioners with questions, committees with complaints, Mrs. Dunn popping in and out with her sharp eyes and sharper tongue. I go through the motions, blessing, nodding, reciting, but inside I am raw and restless. Everything reminds me of Mara. The ghost of her laughter in the hall. Her scent on my pillow. The ache in my jaw from where she bit me. Even my reflection looks unfamiliar. I looked like a man with hunger written across his face, no ma

Erotica 1Tessa.The first thing I notice when I pull into the driveway is how little has changed. Same patchy lawn, same peeling shutters, the same crack in the front step that Dad always swore he’d fix and never did. The second thing I notice, after I drag my suitcase to the porch and nearly twist my ankle on that crack, is that I don’t want to be here.I don’t want to be anywhere, honestly. Not after what happened at school. Not after Mom’s “You need a break, sweetie” phone call and her gentle guilt trip. Not after she said the words family summer in that voice that makes me want to roll my eyes straight out of my head.But I’m here. Because I’m stupid. Because I have nowhere else to go.The screen door swings open before I even reach for the handle, and there’s my mother in her work dress, arms open. She hugs me too tight, like she’s worried I might disappear if she lets go.“I missed you, baby,” she says, and for a second, I almost let myself relax.Then he appears behind her, al

3Tessa.Summer days in this house are always the same. The heat sticks to your skin, and the world feels muffled, like even the air is half-asleep. After this morning—after sneaking out of the bathroom with my heart thundering, after almost getting caught by Mom—I should be exhausted. I should want nothing more than to hide away and forget the way Liam’s hands felt on me.But I don’t. I want more.So I’m stretched out by the pool in a tiny red bikini I dug out from my old dresser drawer, sunglasses perched on my nose, a paperback splayed open across my stomach. My skin glows in the sunlight, golden and slick with sunscreen. I feel exposed, but I like it. The breeze tickles my thighs.Liam is pretending not to watch me. He’s on the other side of the pool, lounging in one of those broken plastic chairs, scrolling on his phone. But every few minutes I feel his eyes on me.He hasn’t said a word since breakfast, but the tension between us is evident.I turn another page in my book, not read

5Tessa.The house feels empty in a way that should be peaceful, but it isn’t. It’s Friday night and Mom’s voice still rings in my ears—her cheerful “We’ll be back late! Don’t wait up!” as she bustled out the door with my stepdad for their first real date night in months. I should be glad for the space, but all I can think about is the silence. And Liam.Every time we’re left alone, something happens. Some new line gets crossed, some new part of myself I didn’t know I had gets exposed and claimed. I tell myself I’m not going to let it happen again. I tell myself I’ll stay in my room, keep my distance, be good for once.But my heart doesn’t believe me. And neither does my body.I’m in my room, half-heartedly scrolling through old photos, pretending I’m not waiting for footsteps in the hall. I haven’t seen Liam since dinner. He’d barely looked at me, that cocky edge missing from his smile. He was too quiet, too controlled, like a wolf in the tall grass. It should have made me feel safe.

7TessaIt should be easier, now that we’ve crossed every line. But if anything, being his has only made me more reckless. The secret is all that keeps us burning—it’s a fuse, lit and hissing, waiting for someone to notice. For someone to open the wrong door at the wrong time and see everything.Sometimes I think we want to be caught.Tonight, I’m sprawled on my bed in nothing but a faded T-shirt and lace panties, reading, pretending I can focus. But my mind is all over the place, replaying the way Liam looked at me at dinner, the way his knee pressed against mine under the table, silent promises written in every glance.Down the hall, I hear the muted thud of his footsteps, the door opening, closing, opening again. He’s restless. So am I.It’s late—later than I realize. Mom is still up, moving around in the kitchen. I can hear the clatter of dishes and her soft humming. Dad’s already asleep. Every sound is amplified by the dark.I’m just about to turn off the light and risk sneaking d