Skin Of A Sinner Book 소설 & 이야기

“ Shit what do I do now ? “ I mumble to myself. Last night was amazing , but it was also a mistake. One that I don’t want to face. In the heat of the moment my mind had been fully on the task of getting off and actually being touched. In the light of day the logic and the consequences of what happened was fully back I let the leader of The Sinners go down on me , I let him watch me groom and I came all over his face until I blacked out. Carnage , the killer , the ruthless man on the cops most wanted list. The one that I’d guess at least forty agents or cops had a bee in their bonnet for to bring down because they knew it would be their career booster.

And she had never felt more alive. She took a long, hot shower, the water a welcome balm on her sore, aching body. She washed away the sweat, the grime, the shame of the night, but she knew she could never wash away the memory of his touch, the memory of his possession. She was stained, marked, not just on the outside, but on the inside, a permanent tattoo of his depravity. When she got out of the shower, he was waiting for her. He had a silk robe laid out for her, a dark, decadent black. She put it on, the soft fabric a comforting caress against her skin.

His voice echoing through the emptiness of the place, "...Oh but I know very well who you are!!! It is sickening and very pitiful..." he fanned his hot breath on her neck, grazing her skin as he savoured the power that was locked inside that ugly shirt, "...how such power, could be locked inside a mediocre little sinner!!! You are as we all are... just sinners!" A rogue tear raced down her pale white cheeks, evidence of the fright that filled her subconscious. But she still had the courage to talk,

It was quiet and peaceful, opposite from what was going inside me. Kimberly was naked ,laid on her back ,the only thing that was covering her was a thin sheet from the lower back till her feet. Her skin was as white as snow and the only colour left on her body were the marks of strikes, deep red and brown colour lines left a cruel decoration on her back. Each line didn't just left a scar on her back but also her soul.

Tasting the filth, the fire, the fever he wrote into every page of my skin. The next morning, a box sat on the kitchen counter. Hardcover, freshly printed. My was name on the cover—and his. ‘Yours, Uncensored.’ “Is this—?” I asked, fingers trembling over the title. “Our story,” he said behind me, pulling my robe down to bare my shoulder. “Every filthy, furious, unforgettable chapter.” “You’re insane,” I breathed. “And you love it.” He kissed the top of my spine. The back cover quote? I read it aloud.

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.

“I used to stare into my reflection until I could see something moving beneath my skin – something ancient and wrong and waiting to be named.” “The moment I truly crossed the line? It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some crimson-soaked ritual under the blood moon.” “It was a whisper. A book.” “Bound in skin – real skin, I think. I never asked. Left at the edge of my bedroll like an offering or a dare. No one admitted to placing it there. Maybe one of the witches who’d started to fear me. Maybe something else. But the moment I touched it, I felt it. Like it recognized me.”

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?

I moaned, panting with a silent plea for him to put his fingers inside me. But he didn't. Instead, he moved his fingers around my clit in a circular motion, teasing my sensitive bud. “Aww–mhmm–ungh,” I whimpered as he fastened his pace. “Look at you, writhing from the touch of a stranger. You're such a dirty girl,” he taunted me, but none of those words made me feel shame. If nothing, I wanted him to touch me some more. As if he knew, his fingers treaded lower, reaching my entrance. He didn't slip his hands inside, he rolled his fingers around the area and the clenching from my core increased, aching to be filled.

And yet, all I could think about was the way he looked at me, the way he dropped to his knees on his own dining room floor and handed me the key to his life, and that massive, unimaginable length between his legs that had stretched me open last night in a way no man ever had. "You stupid, desperate, nasty bitch," I cursed at myself, digging my nails into my jeans. "You disgusting, hypocritical little slut. You stand there crying to him about your mom and your principles, and then the second he pulls you close, you melt right into his chest like a pathetic, horny teenager. You're so dirty. You're a sick, wretched, shameless bitch, Sophia. You're falling for him. You actually have feelings for