All Chapters of Tempted By The Sweetest Sin: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

I raised my fist. Everything inside me screamed to swing. To end it. To finally give him back even a fraction of what he’d given me my whole life. Before my knuckles could connect with bone, my mother’s voice cut through the room—sharp, panicked. “Eric!” I didn’t look at her. “Eric, are you really going to hit your father?” I scoffed, a humorless sound that burned my throat. “So it’s fine that he hit me, isn’t it?” I snapped, eyes never leaving my stepfather’s face. “That’s okay. That’s normal. That’s just another Tuesday in this fucking house.” My raised fist trembled, not from fear—but from how badly I wanted to use it. I lowered my arm slowly and turned my head toward my mother. She stood near the foot of the bed, her hands clasped together like she was praying. Or pretending to. “You should talk to your husband,” I said coldly. “Because the next time he puts his fucking hand on me, he’s going to the ER.” My stepfather took a threatening step toward me. My muscles tight

Sabrina’s POV“But Eric—”I didn’t get to finish the sentence.He was already stepping inside.I stumbled back instinctively, my body moving before my brain caught up, giving him space as he crossed the threshold like he belonged there. The door swung wider, letting in a gust of cold air before I snapped out of it and reached behind me to push it shut.“It’s just for the night,” he said calmly, like he wasn’t completely bulldozing his way into my house . “It’s not like anything’s going to happen.”I folded my arms across my chest, frustration burning hot and fast. “That’s not the point…you can't just come to my door unannounced and expect me to be okay with it.”The lock clicked loudly when I turned it. The sound echoed in the small apartment, final and heavy.I turned to face him.“Eric,” I said slowly, carefully, like I was talking to a ticking bomb. “You have a mansion. You could probably book out an entire hotel floor without blinking. Why are you here? Why would you come to spend

SABRINA’S POV “Are you insane?!” The words exploded out of me before I could stop them, high and panicked. Eric jerked awake like the apartment was on fire. His eyes flew open, wild and confused, head whipping left and right as he bolted upright. The sheet fell to his waist, and for a split second I forgot how to breathe. Then his gaze landed on me. “What the hell, Sabrina?” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. “You scared the shit out of me. What happened?” I stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “What happened is that you’re in my bed!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “You were on the couch last night. How the hell did you end up in my bed?” He blinked, rubbed a hand over his face, then down the back of his neck like he was buying time. A sheepish look crept across his features—slow, guilty, and way too charming for this early in the morning. “Well…” he started, voice low. “At some point the couch got really uncomfortable. It’s tiny, Sabrina. My legs were hanging off

SABRINA’S POVMy mouth opened. Then closed. Opened again. But nothing came out. Not a single word. It was like my brain had short-circuited, wires fried from the sheer horror of the moment. Eric stood there, shirtless and smug, water droplets tracing lazy paths down his sculpted chest, like he was posing for some damn cologne ad. And Frank—oh God, Frank—his eyes darted from Eric to me, wide with shock, like he'd just walked in on a crime scene.He turned fully to me, his face hardening, brows crashing together. "What the fuck is going on here?"I felt the air thicken, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on my chest. My hands trembled at my sides, and I could barely breathe. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Frank's voice echoed in my ears, sharp and accusing, slicing through the tension like a knife. I wanted to explain, to scream that it wasn't what it looked like, but the words stuck in my throat, lodged there like a bone.Before I could force anything out, Eric

SABRINA’S POVHis lips brushed the inside of my thigh, soft, deliberate, devastating. A shiver raced up my spine, and I sucked in a shaky breath. His dark eyes flicked up to mine one last time, wicked and knowing, before he lowered his head.He started slow. So achingly slow.His mouth trailed feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, moving higher, inch by torturous inch. Each press of his lips was warm, wet, reverent—like he was worshiping me, savoring every second. My legs trembled in his grip, already spread wide for him, and I couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped when his stubble grazed me.He switched to the other thigh, repeating the same slow torment, kissing upward until his breath ghosted over the place where I was already soaked and aching. I could feel how wet I was, embarrassingly so, and the knowledge that he could see it, feel it, made heat flood my cheeks even as my hips tilted toward him, begging without words.Then his tongue finally tou