Fontcest Sin Novels & Stories

ARTEMISIA “You need to obey me for once and stay out of trouble.” Sin rasped. “But I did nothing wrong,” I mumbled, eyeing him. I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing as he glared at me. He didn't look angry to me, rather he was cute. His lashes were ridiculously long for a man. Most women I knew had falsies on, whereas Sin had them in abundance. I was among the women that had scanty lashes, but I don't like using artificial ones. I'd rather use mascara than burden myself with it.

"Astro has agreed to help me, and I'm convincing Hale next." "You want me to work with you, I assume," Sinful muses, dipping his head back to look at the night sky, the stars glittering wonderfully. "Too bad Hale hates me, and would rather rip my throat out then do what is best for this family." I shiver, despite the warm water that envelops me. I’m assuming Hale is a Sin, one who I have never heard of before. If he is even half as terrifying as Sinful and Cian, then I’m not sure I want to meet him, even if the more powerful immortals we have on our side, the better chance we have against Stace.

I will never in my life attempt this s*** again. Oh Father in Heaven, if you can just give me an escape out of this nemesis I am about to encounter. This is just too much for my frail heart to be. No, it is just f****** so much. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes trying to calm down my palpitating nerves.

"I fucking love you, Little Greene. " "I fúcking love you, Sin. " I respond with a smile before his lips crash against mine.

They both asked curiously. “He was beautiful,” I said, sounding out of breath. “What?” Felix asked, shocked by how I sounded. “He’s as beautiful as they say. He’s prettier than when the moon and the stars come out. He’s skin is fairer than anything I have seen. His eyes are big and glistening. He’s freckles sit so perfectly on his face. The way his hair falls and covers part of his eyes, he looks like he’d fallen from the sky. He-“

I asked retreating my hand. He wasn’t acting out of drunken confidence. He was clearheaded, sober and the agenda on his face was loud and clear. “I dont like drinking”, he said, his voice deep with an accent I wasn’t expecting. Italian. A chill ran down my spine, and it wasn’t because of how good he sounded. He had power radiating off him, unlike anything I’ve felt in before. Scars adorned his knuckles, but covered in black ink. His hands were steady, too steady to be considered mormal. The stranger was trained - in what? I had no clue.

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I whisper under my breath at the same time he announces the same name out loud. Shit. The bottom drops out of my stomach as he confirms my worst fears. Cataclysm: Earth has generated a huge amount of buzz. In part because of its enormous budget - the largest in Hollywood history, if we're to believe the rumors - and in part because the production of this futuristic disaster epic has involved several members of the notorious Fontaine family, the freaking royal family of the film industry. The Fontaines have cracked the ultimate key to Hollywood success, balancing the ability to find infamy in the tabloids with the talent to craft one cinematic masterpiece after another. Charles and Giovanna F

The hem hit mid-thigh—balanced by long sleeves and sharp shoulders that made her look like both a closing argument and a dare. Her heels matched—matte black, pointed, no embellishment. Her silver necklace caught the light, just barely. Her hair was parted down the middle, smoothed behind her ears. Her eyes did the talking. Callum Calhoun stood as she entered. He wore charcoal. No tie. Cuffs rolled once at the wrist. A man who knew what fit without needing flash. For a moment, they just looked at each other. No greeting. No tension. Just recognition. He gestured to the table. “You clean up well.”

“Not from fear… no. You’re shaking because this sweet little body knows exactly what it wants.” His free hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head so her throat was exposed. He dragged his open mouth along the side of her neck (slow, wet, deliberate), teeth scraping just enough to make her gasp, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of her skin. “You smell like sin,” he growled against her pulse. “Like warm honey and fresh rain… and like you’ve been dripping for me all day while you scrubbed my floors.”