Sinner Novels & Stories

Elara was really finding joy in her sinful friendship with Meela, which she saw as a bright spot in her dark life even though the secrets with the Lennox men were still there. Her mom called her one day advising her about her indecent dressing which she said had gotten worse and also about how same sex making love is a sin in Gods eyes. Talking about sins, Elara was far gone in them and she was sure that God no longer cared about her bullshit. He must be tired of hearing the name Elara Voss. **Mom:** Baby, how are you? **Elara:** I am fine mommy. Just stressed a lot these days from shoots. How are you?

“We never touched. But I dreamed about him every night. Imagined him fucking me in the chapel… on his knees for me too. When he transferred away, I couldn’t pray anymore. I touched myself thinking of him while wearing the collar. That’s why I left. I was already damned.” Seong growled possessively. He rose up, lined up again, and sank back in with one smooth thrust, cum squelching obscenely. “That’s my good little sinner,” he praised, voice rougher now. “You’re mine now. No other man gets to live in that filthy head.”

I slid my fingers down, slicking them in my own wetness, and began to slowly caress my cl*t right in front of his eyes. "I'm so fucking hot for you, Father," I groaned, arching my back and shuddering as my thumb circled my cl*t. "And I'm all yours. I'm your little sinner, and this p*ssy is the altar you need to worship today. Come on, Father. Give in to the temptation. Put your holy tongue right here and clean me up." He let out a tortured breath, his knees visibly trembling. He looked trapped between heaven and hell, his eyes pinned to my fingers sliding over my soaking cl*t.

raw, unfiltered lust. 'Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been a week since my last confession.' Her words hit me like a shot of whiskey, burning straight to my core. Sandra. The stripper from the seedy clubs down on 5th Avenue, the one who wrapped her sins in lace and leather, coming to me week after week like clockwork. At first, I thought it was genuine remorse, a soul seeking redemption amid the neon lights and grinding hips of her world. But as the months dragged on, her confessions turned into something else entirely, a slow, deliberate seduction that chipped away at the walls I'd built around my celibate heart.

SINNER’S PRAYER (G×G) EVELYN HARPER & LUCIA VALDEZ EVE I have always known I was damned. Every Sunday I sit in the same pew, third from the back on the left, fingers worrying the rosary beads in my lap while Father Michael speaks of mortal sin and the fires that wait for the unrepentant. I nod along, my lips moving silently through the responses, but my mind is elsewhere. My gaze drifts to the stained-glass windows, to the painted lips of the female saints—lips I have imagined pressed against my own in the dark of my bedroom while I touch myself and then cry into my pillow afterward.

Dean laughed so hard he almost doubled over. “You? Let us live? Fuck you, Voss. You’re not the Reaper anymore. You’re a washed-up corpse. You were the boss once, but look at you now. Shot, bleeding, begging and so pathetic.” Bruno joined in with a sick grin. “Man, I used to fear your name. Myles Voss, the Reaper of Hellfangs. Every street whispered it but now? You’re nothing. A disgrace and a dog crawling back for scraps.” Their voices echoed in my head with Reaper. Disgrace and pathetic. They thought I was finished but that was their mistake.

I couldn't maintain eye contact with him, his presence alone was heavy on me, and I couldn't hide the odor that reeked out of his body. Sinner smells really bad, like rotten food, or spoiled milk mixed with acid. He reeked of foul odor and if care is not taken, I could throw up. I've always heard the performers gossip about Sinner, they whispered him being a predator, and how cruelly he treats everyone. They claim the only person he fears was Bishop, and as long as Bishop has no idea what's happening inside this penthouse, then Sinner feels he is in charge, and owns the world.

Perfect. “See you soon.” He’d written it himself, fog blooming from his mouth in the cold like smoke from a sermon. She’d see it when she came home, her pretty mouth falling open in that little O of shock he used to love so much. She thought she was safe with that big bastard in her house. Cute. She thought she was strong now. Even cuter. Eden Cross had carried his sins once without even knowing it. Signed her name to accounts she’d never opened. Smiled beside him in church while his assistant—God bless Tiffany—warmed his bed after evening service.

Sinclair shouts. "No, you wouldn't, Sin. You might be a beast and fearless, but I don't think you have it in you to kill women," I utter, hoping that I've got my guesses correct. Sinner closes his path with me on the wall and my breathing is already ragged. This chunk of a man terrifies me. "You think so?" he asks running the pad of his thumb on my lips, distracting me. "Yes, Sin," I murmur, sounding more breathless than before.

I never imagined wanting to be a sinner and now I just want to be his sinner, be punished by his calloused hands, consumed by the darkness of the deaths he carries and the pain he causes, he is the most beautiful fucking fallen angel. I pressed my cheek against his chest, sighing in relief at the strong beats. I am a sinner, condemned without the right to defense by stronger people, incapable of feeling anything, being welcomed by the greatest foe, by the one who should have been worse than them, receiving a slow caress on the arm by the careful touch, giving meaning to the entire crossing until t