Sinful Desires. Novels & Stories

"Sin inclines into human nature. And you know what the human nature is. The nature of human is selfishness. And sin was born from selfishness. The nature of sin? The lust of eyes and flesh, and the pride of life? These three became the root of sin because it is loving yourself more than loving God and others. It's your self-love. Self-gratification. Self-glorification. Self. All of that pertains to yourself. You. That's why sin is pleasurable because all of that inclines to your own selfishness. Example are when you feel happy when someone throws false accusations to someone you hate, you love to see your enemies suffer, you want to have what others have, you seek praises and attention from

That weird voice in my head of an old man ruined my mood. I neglected it first, but it came back over and over. "Fuck off, old man!" I shouted in my head. "I don't know who you are, and you keep popping into my head like it is nothing." "Don't give in to your temptations," The voice in my head mentioned again. "What temptations are you talking about? Are you saying I should not do it with her?" This always ran behind my head while getting aroused.

Naya Hart If you just finished reading this, let's say a prayer together. Oh Lord, forgive me for I have sinned. 🙏🏽 And honestly? I am not even sorry. If you made it all the way to the end of Forbidden Desires — from Ruin Me Stepfather down to My boyfriend ,y stepbrother, you are built differently and I respect you deeply. 😭🖤 This book was never for the faint of heart. It was for the ones who read with the door locked and the brightness turned all the way down.

But next to his reflection, he saw the shadow of Angeline. She was the "weakness" he hadn't seen coming. She was the "motivation" that was already starting to rewrite his priorities. He realized then that the "Sinful Virtues" weren't just the rules they lived by. They were the traits that would either bind them together or destroy both their empires. Angeline wasn't just his wife; she was a mirror held up to his own soul. And for the first time, Roman Moretti didn't like what he saw.

Just for a moment. What would it feel like to be wanted so fiercely that vows didn’t matter? To have rough hands slide under my habit, calloused fingers parting my milky thighs, a mouth that tasted like smoke and damnation devouring me until I forgot every prayer I’d ever learned? I pressed my thighs together, my heated skin touching each other, blooming low and treacherous desire. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned in thought… I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the words out, over and over, until the ache dulled.

I cursed myself for entertaining such treacherous thoughts, but they persisted, flooding my mind with unwanted visions. I imagined the gentle brush of his fingertips, the soft caress of his lips, and the shiver-inducing sensation of his mouth on mine. My mind's eye conjured images of myself beneath him, arching in ecstasy as he awakened sensations I'd never known. The Darkness within me reveled in these depraved fantasies, refusing to relinquish its hold on my imagination.

Because it does not feel like love but like a fever that will burn me alive. “It is not just a crush,” I admitted. “It feels consuming. I think about him constantly. I wake up thinking about him, and I fall asleep imagining him. It makes it hard to pray. It makes it hard to breathe sometimes.” There was a pause, but it wasn’t cold or judgmental, only attentive. “Desire in itself is not a sin,” he said. “What matters is what we do with it.” I let out a fragile laugh. “That is the problem. I do not think I am doing anything, yet it feels like everything is happening inside me already.”

He wasn’t trying to please me; he was claiming me, punishing me, and losing himself in the sin. And God help me, I loved it. The mere force of it, the taboo, the danger, the size of him filling me so completely—it ignited a fire in me I didn’t know existed. I met his thrusts, pushing back, encouraging him with filthy whispers. “That’s it… fuck me… just like you fuck her…”

And it was proving right to some extent. Because I had never faced a problem getting off on my own. But these last few nights when I tried to get off, it proved to be difficult because even though I knew my thing, I still couldn't reach my peak until I imagined him fucking me. I said I wasn't a desperate whore or something but with him, it was like I was willing to be a slut just so he would fuck me. And it irritated me. Because he didn't want that. Deep down, I knew it was wrong.

The red colour on her only whetted his appetite. He wanted her. He wanted to touch her, to feel the velvety texture of her skin. He wanted to tear off the taunting crimson dress off her and pin her against the wall, holding her open as he thrust wildly into her. He wanted to feel her clenching against his thick shaft, to fuck her like a savage. And then, the evil part of him wanted more. The need to inflict pain on her, to tarnish her body, to destroy her for marrying his brother. For the deal, her father came up with. His jaw clenched and hazy clouds of lust replaced with bubbling rage.