Sins Of The Skin นิยาย & เรื่องราว

This book has been temporarily paused for significant revisions and restructuring. Thank you for patience. ××××× Warning 🔞 DO NOT OPEN IF YOU'RE NOT READY TO SURRENDER! These files contain mature language and explicit descriptions. Each story in this anthology plunges you into the carnal world of forbidden desires. Each tale is written in bold and unapologetically explicit voice that dives straight into the raw and physical sensations of passion. Warning: You might feel the heat of skin on skin, the tremble of a gasp, and the rush of adrenaline as desire overwhelms reason. Filthy Surrender invites you to indulge in the taboo, and lose yourself in stories where the only rule is to give in completely and enjoy every wicked and filthy second of it. The question is: Are you ready?

Claire fell in love with a vampire, named Jacob. But Jacob can't be mended during the day because he has a different skin type. But thanks to Claire because she studies the skin of Jacob. Claire wanted to be with him not just by night but every day. However, Jacob died accidentally. Furious and depressed, Claire took her own life. After all, the vampire wasn't really dead. So, Claire made a contract with the soul reaper to talk and to see Jacob again. However, the soul reaper tricks her. She had been reincarnated, but she forgot who she was. Is she having the ability to return to Jacob? Or is she going to be trapped in a body that doesn't remember anything?

🔞 WARNING: STRICTLY RATED 18!!!🔞 Lorenzo pulled my hair back as I moaned aloud, the harmonic sound of my moan and the sound of our skin slapping reverberating through the room. He pounded into me roughly, his cock thrusting in and out, sending waves of pleasurable pain across my arched back. I quivered under his electrifying touch, my heart racing in my ribcage. Skin on skin, flash against flesh, I felt an uncontrollable desire as my soul stirred. I bit down a moan, a curse escaping my throat as he spanked my ass. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, stars spinning around me. "Fuck, Lavender!" He whispered in satisfaction as he pumped his load into me, pulling his inches out. ~ An Angel and The Devil. Beauty and The Beast. A Damsel In Distress With No Prince Charming. That was where it began, a passionate one night stand that tangled their destinies. She is ready to serve him and be his ride or die, for no reason but to carry out the assignment entrusted to her to destroy him. But what happens when the lines between lust and duty starts to fade?

After my younger sister suffered an allergic reaction from eating the food I cooked, my husband flew into a rage. He grabbed a whole crate of red wine from the house, pinned me down, and forced it into my mouth. "You should feel Rosie's pain too!" Soon, red rashes spread across my body, and my throat began to swell. On the brink of death, I begged him to call an ambulance, but he locked me in the room instead. "Take your time and enjoy it. Only when you suffer enough will you stop hurting others." In despair, I felt my throat closing, and my skin itching unbearably as if pierced by needles. I scratched my skin until there wasn't a single patch of unbroken skin left. Three days later, he finally decided to show mercy and make it up to me with a candlelit dinner. "I bet you have learned your lesson. As long as you behave from now on, you'll still be Mrs. Henderson." However, he would never see me again. By then, my body had already turned to ashes.

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

Kodessa Keneally has it all figured out, and she knows her place in the pack, knows who she will marry and knows her calling. Until a chance meeting with a stranger sends her life spiralling, and she will realise she is no match for fate. One meeting will start a chain of events that will break a pact and send the Crimson Shadows and Greysteelś to war. Will the sins of their fathers destroy their love? Will their love destroy theirs packs? Families torn apart, alliances shattered. Will love be enough?

My husband's true love goes missing. He traps me in a cave to make me repent for my sins. "Olivia would never have gone missing if not for you! You'd better stay in there and repent for your sins!" No matter how I scream and try to escape, I'm ignored. Ultimately, I die due to cobra venom. Unexpectedly, my husband loses his mind when he sees my body and the twisted look on my face.

His lips brushed my palm and every time his hot breath hit my skin, it set my nerves on fire. “What the—” I whispered, breathless. And then, with deliberate slowness, Sevastian slipped my ring finger into his mouth. My eyes widened in disbelief, my heart hammering against my chest. His teeth scraped my skin before sinking into the flesh, just enough to make me twitch from the sharp pain. I gasped, both from the sting and the bite I got from him. My entire body tensed as he bit down harder, marking me not with ink or metal, but with flesh and teeth. When he finally released my hand, my skin throbbed, the faint mark of his bite was visible against my finger. I cradled my hand, staring in disbelief at the mark he left behind. “This,” Sevastian murmured, his voice low and sharp. “Is my mark and ring.” His tone carried an edge, dangerous yet confident, as if the words were meant to bind me. “The symbol that you are no longer Celestina Valeztina-Savelli.” His lips ghosted over my skin, and my chest tightened as he whispered the next words. “...but Celestina Valeztina-Ortega.” His next words were a soft snarl, dripping with ruthless certainty. “My property, my wife.” He added, while locking his gaze on me. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no flicker of remorse, only that same ruthless determination that chilled me to my core. I tried to pull my hand back, but he didn’t let go. "You’re insane," I whispered, my voice barely audible, trembling despite my best efforts not to show it. “Yes, I’m insane,” he replied with a hint of mischief in his voice, “And I can drive you crazy…” He paused, letting the tension hang in the air.

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye.

An Alpha? 😀 Yes—an artistic one. But this time, it’s not him. It’s her. Ayla Cross, a tattoo artist who thought she had escaped her past. But no Owner of The Runed Den, she spent her nights inking stories onto other people’s skin, never realizing her own was hiding one. Until the night he walked in. Kian Vale—a mysterious stranger with eyes like liquid silver and a voice that carried thunder—came seeking a tattoo that matched the mark from Ayla’s dreams: a sigil of power older than any pack legend. When she inked it onto his skin, something inside her awakened. Her tattoos began to move. The moon itself seemed to breathe with her heartbeat. Now hunted by two rival werewolf clans, Ayla learns the truth: she is the Runed Luna, the lost heir of a bloodline thought extinct, born to command the ancient runes that shape reality itself. But every mark she draws binds her closer to Kian… and to the curse that could destroy them both. As shadows close in and bloodlines clash, Ayla must decide: Will she rewrite her fate in ink and moonlight— or be consumed by the story written beneath her skin? Unknown to you. Unknown to me. What could happen next?