Appetite For Innocence Novels & Stories

Vince remained silent. Frowning, he lowered his head dejectedly and ignored Zoelle. The recording was short and Chloe played it at twice the normal speed. She then turned to Joseph and asked, "Do you think this is how she spiked my yogurt?" Maintaining an innocent facade while engaging in nefarious acts was truly deceptive, like a wolf wrapped in sheep's clothing. No one would suspect Bethany at first glance. Considering her past contributions, she could have had a good life in Imperium if she had behaved.

The first thing I noticed her innocence. These auctions were for prostitutes and low-life's who had been picked off the streets. This girl was so goddamn different. When they said she was a virgin, and so fucking young I don't know why the fuck my interest peaked. And I had spent a million of the mafia's..my mafia's money on her. I hope she was fucking worth it. She was taking too fucking long. “I hate waiting for people to miss Johnson!” I said to her as we left her room.

I look at the list and it is only flour, confectionary sugar, chocolate chips, buttermilk, baking powder. It looks strange that Gideon is inside this place. He looks out of place even if he is wearing "casual" clothes in his definition. We pass through all the aisle and I grab so many things that is not in the list like nutella never tries it before, peanut butter, sanitary pad might as well buy it since I am here already and to my embarassment Gideon picked up the pads and see what kind did I take. This man has no shyness in his body.

"Don't play innocent!" Once again, Fathia furrows her brows. "Play innocent?" She mumbles softly. "What kind of innocence?" Adjusting her glasses that are sliding down due to her slightly oily face and the dampness of sweat, she decides to pick up the notes. Before she can reach it, though, Ineke kicks the notes away.

He asked, still unsure about her behaviour, while caressing her lips. She shuddered. "I don’t know why you ask me the same question... And what does it mean to be innocent...?" She tilted her head like an innocent child, giving him no room to doubt further. He took a step back, handling her scarf while wrapping it around her neck. He saw the marks of passion or a cruel act he didn’t know about. Maybe last night he did. She was saying the truth. "Wear some other full-sleeve and full-neck dresses."

It was as if she was living the dream. She got up and rushed to her kitchen. Seeing the man bustling around the kitchen she turned gloomy for a while but soon smiled as she leaned on the door frame. She looked at the man wearing a girly pink apron over his spotless white shirt. His sleeves were rolled over. His fine muscles were visible with every move he made. This made her blush as her cheeks turned in a shade of pink. She retreated her gaze and walked in.

The soft fabric brushed my hard nipples with every movement, sending little sparks straight to my clit. By the time evening came, I was a mess of anticipation and lingering heartbreak. Sinclair’s invitation for dinner at his place kept echoing in my head. Part of me wanted to cancel, to protect the fragile new start I was trying to build. The bigger part of me — the part that had been starved and called boring — wanted to walk next door and let him devour me.

Close enough now that he could hear the uneven rhythm of her breathing. This wasn’t innocence. This was calculation wrapped in softness. “You’re curious,” she said quietly. His composure cracked—not outwardly, but internally. It showed in the way his shoulders stiffened. “This is inappropriate,” he said. “And yet you’re still here.” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. The hallway felt smaller. The rules felt thinner. She didn’t touch him at first. She simply stood close enough that retreat would feel obvious. Close enough that restraint required effort.

Her small, instinctive gestures only made her more intoxicating and nearly impossible to resist. For a heartbeat, I faltered, captivated by the sight of her innocence warring with her desire. Her chest rose and fell in a rapid rhythm, each breath a delicious mixture of nerves and quiet defiance. Too innocent, too tempting, she shouldn’t be this enticing, and yet every instinct screamed that she was mine to claim. Maybe bathing with her was a dangerously bad idea.