Sinful Skins Novels & Stories

His skin, even though his shirt was stopping me I can still feel his skin against my touch and his body itself was perfectly built and so pleasurable to touch. His pulse quickened as he looked down at my hands touching him, but did nothing to stop me. I could feel how turned on I was by one fucking touch and how much more I want to do now that I already felt his skin against my hands. It's fucking adding. I rose slightly on my tiptoes so that I was now even closer to him and our lips were almost touching. We were both in trance looking at each other's lips, breathing heavily with my hands on his chest. I can feel my hands and my whole damn body shaking under his influence.

Season 2 Synopsis of Sinful Escape By DB Novels She was betrayed. Framed. Broken. Now she’s reborn. After surviving the ultimate betrayal by her husband and lover, Sera Carter sheds her name, her face, and her past—emerging from prison as the ruthless and mysterious Arianna Vale. Love? That word died the day Raven and Ethan kissed in front of her cell. Now, she doesn’t trust. She doesn’t feel. She seduces, manipulates, and destroys. Every man she kisses, every deal she makes, every move she plans—is fueled by a single burning desire:

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

“Already leaking like a desperate whore. I can feel how wet you’re getting through your sweatpants.” I bit my lip hard, trying to stay quiet, but a broken whimper still escaped when he circled his hips, rubbing his heavy balls right against mine in a slow, obscene roll. Rhys leaned down, lips brushing my ear. “Grind back. Don’t make me do all the work like a lazy little slut.” My face burned with shame, but my body obeyed before my brain could catch up. I rolled my hips up to meet his, matching his filthy rhythm. The wet spot on my sweatpants grew bigger, the fabric clinging obscenely to my cock as we rubbed together.

I look at Sinful, wondering where his mate is, who his mate is. "I'm still Lust," he smirks. "How about naked?" Cian shakes his head, not looking amused. Usually Cian doesn’t shy away from pushing someone to the edge of their paitence, so clearly there is something about Sinful that really gets under his skin. "You invited us here, Sinful..." "Fine," Sinful rolls his eyes. "I look for a moment's entertainment and I get crucified for it." Sinful waves his hands again, and suddenly we are all dressed in swimming clothes, my original clothes having vanished into thin air. I blink, unsure if I should be offended or not at the very intrusive magic Sinful used to essentially change us into complet

My skin—the skin that had been bruised by Alexei’s betrayal and scarred by the Council’s lash—was beginning to crack. Large, grey flakes of my old self began to peel away. They fell to the frozen floor like dead leaves, turning to dust before they even hit the ground. I did not scream. I felt lighter with every piece of the past that fell away. Beneath the old skin, my new body was shimmering. It was smooth, seamless, and looked like a diamond mixed with moonlight. It was harder than any steel, yet it felt as natural as my own breath. I was no longer a girl of flesh and bone. I was a living weapon of silver.

Just because I didn't have the lake of fire didn't mean I couldn't punish the sinners. And when she was roasted to my heart’s content, I pulled her back, watched as she fell on her back, and took in the creation of my hand. “Ooooooh!” Her face was bright red and badly swollen. Rivers of blood were bubbling as they poured and steamed all over from the opened blood vessels. But what made me want to do a little shuffle dance was the sheets of skin sloughing off her skin, the blackened chunks of the remains of her once perfect face hitting the floor and continuing to smolder from the heat. Her once perfect face was now unrecognizable, beautifully disfigured.

Sofia I think I’m falling for a skinhead. It’s a dirty fling, I tell myself. One where I’m forced to stay with a hot guy, clean up his and his gang’s shit, and have nasty sex with him. Sounds sick when I think of it that way. The kind of sick that turns me on.

So beautiful and satanic. His eyes were not coal-dark but ocean-dark, deep pools that seemed to swallow light and exude a cold, evil acumen. His sharp features were chiselled with almost supernatural precision as if a master sculptor had carved him out of pure darkness. His skin, though flawless, had an unnatural pallor, reminiscent of marble but imbued with a hint of something more menacing, like the whisper of shadows that cling to the walls of a forgotten crypt.

December 1st arrived cloaked in gray skies and a bitter wind that blew through the heart of the city like a warning. At the top floor of the Blackwell Penthouse, plans were unfolding with clockwork precision. The masquerade ball, what had once been an idea turned tradition whispered in the shadow of grief by Blackwell Senior, was now a weapon, a statement, a performance designed to draw out enemies hiding behind titles and veils.