Sinful Novels & Stories

“You looked so beautiful.” I want to say I know but I want him to answer my question first. I want to know his reason first. I am a sinner and I can’t admit that to him. I am not what he thinks I am. I am not the woman he liked because I am hiding something inside me that I know will break what we have right now. This is just a fucking three months mission! “Answer me, Peter.”

I can't move a single muscle as much as I want! Why Darin? Why? I want to cry out loud at him. How can he forget about me and leave me behind this easily? I have thought that, with time he would understand the reason behind my actions, as to why I killed his father. But now, I do not know a thing for certain! And as of why, I already have the answer to that. I am the reason why his father is not living, so I guess, this is what I really deserve from him. Karma is so real! So, my karmas are getting back at me for what all I have caused to my Darin. I have hurt him, knowingly! And now I am the one getting hurt in return. I know that I deserve it all! But this does nothing to ease my situation,

He has tasted the forbidden fruit, and he knows that he will want to taste it again. He is weak, he knows. Weak and sinful and unworthy of his calling. But even as he berates himself, he can't help but think of Paul's touch, of the pleasure he found in that sinful act. And he knows that no matter how hard he tries to resist, he will always be tempted by the devil in the form of a beautiful man.

The way he whispered my name like it was a sin he wanted to keep repeating. No. I didn’t dream it. He was here. My heart stutters just thinking about it. He came through the window like some kind of trouble I couldn’t resist. Said nothing for a while—just looked at me with those dark eyes, as if I belonged to him. And I didn’t stop him. I should’ve. I didn’t. Now, the memory burns under my skin, impossible to scrub off. The door creaks open suddenly, snapping me back to reality.

I became someone I no longer recognized, a man burdened with sins too heavy for anyone else to carry. In time, my life spiraled out of control. The betrayal of my own conscience led me down a path I hadn’t anticipated. I left the military, lost to my own demons, and found myself entangled in the very world I once fought against. The mafia became my refuge, a dark sanctuary where I tried to drown my guilt, my anger, and my sorrow. I became a sinner—willingly committing sins, crossing lines I never would have imagined as a soldier. I justified it then, telling myself it was all I deserved, that I was beyond redemption. But deep down, I was trapped in a web I couldn't escape.

He smirked before opening the baby oil, pouring a slick amount onto my stomach and pussy. Just as the oil made contact with my skin, I felt a shiver run through my spine and a knotted guilt formed in my chest as I recalled how bad what I was about to do seemed. The oil was warm, but the guilt burned hotter. “Besides, I have a boyfriend at home.” I mused within myself as my conscience began to judge me.

His entire body went rigid, his muscles shaking violently as he shot a thick, hot wave of cum deep inside my pussy, filling me up until it was spilling out. We stayed pinned against that glass window for a very long time, both of us panting for breath, our sweat mixing together as the city lights twinkled far below us. The sin was committed. It was beautiful, it was wrong, and as Julian slowly pulled his thick dick out and wrapped his strong arms around my shaking, naked body, I knew neither of us could ever go back to the way things were before.

Cosima asked. “Ribs are sensitive.” Rev wiped away excess ink. “But you’re taking it beautifully.” Cosima bit her lip against a whimper. The pain was mixing with something else now. Something that felt too good. Rev noticed. Her hand on Cosima’s hip tightened. “You okay?” “I don’t know.” Cosima’s voice came out breathy. “It hurts but it also…” “Feels good?” “Yes.” Rev’s pupils dilated. She bent back over the tattoo, but her hand slid higher on Cosima’s hip. Not quite inappropriate. Almost.

“You stole something from me. You tried to deliver it. Tell me who gave you the fucky order.” The man’s lips trembled. He coughed, blood flecking his teeth. “You don’t understand. He’s worse than you.” “I’ll take that as a compliment. Speak.” He broke. Just like that. Whispers cracked out of him like leaking steam. “Vance. Vance Halifax. He—he worked for Blackwell. Fired for laundering. He’s been building an alliance. Clara. That woman claiming she’s pregnant. Some on the board. He said you’d be too in love with your fake wife to see the knife coming.”

She'd helped make it happen. But the ghost of her greatest sin stood before her, breathing, living, burning with a quiet rage that threatened to consume them both. And all she could think was: *He can never know the truth. Never know why I did it. The price is too high.* The music continued to pound around them, but Selena couldn't hear it anymore. All she could hear was her own heartbeat, She could hear it beating louder and louder as she watched the ghost of her past standing in front of her shrouded I'm rage, betrayal and something else.