All Chapters of Dirty Little Collections: Sins We Never Speak Of: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The metal tray hit the cafeteria table with a loud clang, making Natalia and Lizzie jump. “I swear, if my dad makes me sit through one more lecture about Dimitri Volkov, I’m going to—” I let the sentence hang, rolling my eyes so hard I saw my own brain.Natalia blew a pink bubble of gum and popped it. “Amelia, calm down. You’re literally vibrating.”“Calm down?” I scoffed, dropping into the seat. “He’s the smartest guy in school, he doesn’t talk to anyone, and now he’s supposed to babysit me? Like I’m some kid who can’t be trusted alone? I can’t even believe my dad.”“He’s a bad boy, though,” Lizzie said, already checking her reflection in her phone screen and fussing with her false lashes. “Cold, broody, totally irresistible. You could totally get him—”“Excuse me?” I interrupted, a laugh bursting out of me.“Yes,” Natalia said, waving a hand like she was stating a simple fact. “You could totally get a piece. Seriously, Amelia, hop on that dick. I bet it must be humongous.”I snorted

I pushed open the door to my bedroom, my heart racing a little faster than usual. The room was cozy, with my big bed in the center, pink pillows scattered everywhere, and sunlight filtering through the curtains. I dumped my books on the desk and flopped onto the bed, patting the spot next to me. “Come on, Dimitri. Sit. Let’s get this lesson started.”He stood in the doorway for a second, his broad frame filling it up, like he was deciding whether to bolt or charge in. His dark eyes locked on mine, and I swear I saw that internal fight—cold and controlled on the outside, but something wild flickering underneath. Finally, he stepped in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping some distance, his books open on his lap.“Fine,” he said, voice flat. “We’ll do your stupid game. But only until you actually learn something. First question: What’s the capital of France?”I giggled, bouncing a little on the mattress. “Easy. Paris.”He sighed, but his

I stayed frozen for a moment after the maid left, trying to understand what Dimitri meant when he said he shouldn’t have done this. My body still felt heavy, like my bones had turned to warm jelly, but my mind was racing. I pushed myself up slowly, holding onto the blanket for balance.He didn’t help me.He didn’t even look at me.He stood by the window, his back tense, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His shoulders moved with each breath like he was trying to hold himself together. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of traffic from outside and the soft thud of my heartbeat in my ears.I swallowed. “Dimitri…”He didn’t turn. His voice came out flat. “Your father is downstairs.”“I heard,” I said, my voice small. “But… what you said—”“We don’t have time for that right now.” He cut me off without any hesitation.I stared at him, feeling something cold gather in my chest. The same man who had touched me with so much intensity minutes ago was now speaking like

His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting me with a hunger that made my stomach flip. I pressed my body against him, feeling the hard, unyielding line of his torso and legs through the soft cotton of his shirt. The kitchen in his trailer felt smaller and warmer than it had just moments before, the air close and thick with our shared breath and the faint, lingering smell of coffee from earlier.Dimitri pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes intense and focused solely on my face. "Amelia," he said, his voice low and rough, the sound of it vibrating through me. "You make me want things I should not."I swallowed, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "What things?" I asked, my own voice barely a whisper.He did not answer with words. Instead, his strong hands gripped my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto the laminated kitchen counter. The cool surface hit the bare skin of my ass through my jeans, a brief shock that was instantly chased away

Dinner felt more like an interrogation than a family meal. The table was set nicely and the food smelled good, but the air was tight.I sat between Dimitri and my father, which already felt like a bad idea. Dimitri’s posture was stiff, shoulders squared, back straight, like he was bracing for impact. He had changed into one of the few clean shirts he owned, dark and plain, and he kept adjusting the sleeves like they were suddenly too tight.My father noticed everything. He always did.“So,” my dad said calmly, cutting into his steak. “Let us stop pretending this is a social visit.”I sighed. “Dad.”Dimitri swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”My father set his cutlery down and looked directly at him. “I am accepting my daughter’s decision.”I felt Dimitri’s knee twitch against mine under the table.“That does not mean,” my father continued, voice steady, “that you have free rein with her life.”Dimitri straightened even more, if that was possible. “I understand.”My dad turned his gaze t