Semua Bab TILL SIN DO US APART: A TABOO TALE OF LUST AND DESIRE: Bab 11 - Bab 20

CORRUPT ME, STEPBROTHERROSE'S POV The summer heat clings to my skin like a second layer, making everything feel heavier, more intense. It's been three days since Mom and Richard left for their cruise, and the house echoes with silence broken only by the hum of the AC and Nathan's occasional footsteps. He's been avoiding me, burying himself in work calls or tinkering in the garage. But I feel his eyes on me constantly—like a predator sizing up prey.I'm in the kitchen, wearing tiny denim shorts and a crop top that shows a sliver of my midriff, chopping vegetables for dinner. It's deliberate; I want him to notice. To crack. The forbidden thrill of it makes my pulse race.He walks in, fresh from a shower, towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets trace paths down his chiseled chest, over the intricate tattoos that cover his arms and pecs—a mix of skulls, roses, and cryptic symbols that scream danger. His dark hair is tousled, and those blue eyes lock onto me like magnets."Smells goo

CORRUPT ME, BROTHER (EXPANDED VERSION) ROSE’S POV The ropes bite deliciously into my wrists, silk turned cruel by the way Nathan knots them tight to the headboard. My arms are stretched above me, shoulders aching just enough to remind me I’m helpless. Exactly where I want to be.He starts slow, torturously slow, like he has all the time in the world to ruin me.His mouth trails fire down my throat, teeth scraping over my collarbone until I arch off the mattress. When he reaches my breasts he doesn’t ask permission; he simply takes. Sharp nips turn into deep, sucking bites that bloom purple and red across the pale skin. Each mark is a brand: Property of Nathan Blake.“Spread your legs for me, little sister,” he murmurs against my sternum, voice velvet and venom.I obey instantly, thighs trembling as he cuffs my ankles to the corners of the bed. Cool air kisses my soaked pussy and I whimper at how exposed I am, shaved bare just like he ordered two days ago. He sits back on his heels,

SINNER’S PRAYER 2EVE’S POV I couldn’t sleep that night. The rain had stopped, but the storm inside me raged on. My body ached with the memory of Lucia’s fingers buried deep inside me, stretching me, owning me. I tossed in my narrow bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, my hand slipping between my thighs more than once to chase that forbidden high. But it wasn’t enough. My own touch felt like a pale imitation, a whisper where I craved a scream.By morning, guilt wrapped around me like chains. I knelt by my bedside, rosary beads digging into my palms, murmuring Hail Marys until my knees bruised. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” I whispered, but the words tasted like ash. All I could think of was her—Lucia’s green eyes darkening with lust, her tongue flicking against her lips after tasting me. I was wet again just from the thought, my panties sticking to my folds as I dressed for work.The day dragged. From the library window, I stole glances at her shop. She was there, ink

THE PROFESSOR’S PETAVA & DAMIEN AVA’S POV I never expected my sophomore year to turn into this.Professor Damien Hale’s advanced literature class was supposed to be a challenge—a way to boost my GPA with something intellectual. But from the first lecture, it was him who captivated me. Forty-two, divorced, with salt-and-pepper hair that fell just right over his forehead, sharp green eyes that seemed to see through everyone, and a voice like velvet gravel reading passages from forbidden classics. He paced the front of the room like he owned it, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms dusted with dark hair.I sat in the back at first, but by week three, I’d moved to the front row. Crossing my legs in short skirts, biting my lip when he glanced my way. He noticed. I knew he did. The way his gaze lingered a second too long on my bare thighs, the subtle clench of his jaw.Today’s lecture was on forbidden desires in Victorian literature—ironic, given the thoughts racing through my m

THE NEIGHBOR’S POOL MILA & GABRIEL MILA’S POV I lie on the lounge chair by our backyard pool, the sun beating down on my bare skin like a lover’s touch. The air is thick with summer heat, the kind that makes everything feel lazy and heavy. My bikini top lies discarded on the patio stones beside me—I’ve been sunbathing topless for the last week, telling myself it’s because I hate tan lines, but deep down I know the truth.He can see me.Gabriel Reyes lives next door, in the modern two-story house with the big second-floor office that overlooks our yard. Ever since I came home from college three weeks ago, I’ve caught glimpses of him at that window—standing there with a coffee mug, or typing on his laptop, his broad shoulders filling the frame. He always looks away quickly when our eyes meet, but not before I see the tension in his jaw, the way his hand tightens on whatever he’s holding.He’s forty-one, lost his wife last year, and still built like the Olympic swimmer he used to be