The Sinners Novels & Stories

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.

“May I have this dance?” She laughed and nodded. He twirled her into the clearing, light on his feet, easy with affection. My dad, watching, cracked a rare smile. I stepped back, soaking it all in. Then Lucas came over. “Mind if I borrow a minute?” he asked quietly. I nodded and stepped aside with him. “I used to think the biggest sin,” he began, “was what I did. Getting in the way. But it was more than that. I held onto something that was never mine because I thought I deserved you.”

PROLOGUE Broke and desperate, 24-year-old Sienna gets an offer she should’ve walked away from— One month. One man. One filthy contract. No names. No public outings. No limits. All she has to do is say yes to him. Mr. Black. Older, richer, cruelly gorgeous, and controlling as sin. He wants her under him, owned in every way—bound by silk, paid in luxury, and fucked raw. What starts as a cold transaction becomes something darker and hungrier as his obsession takes root.

It is our enemies who will perish. Tonight, on this day we will spill the blood of the ones who have sinned. We will pass no judgment but the one of a Satan's death. We will be merciless as we punish. We are The Satan Snipers and tonight we will reap vengeance on those who wronged us. We stop just outside the old broken down warehouse. I line my bike slowing its speed.

I needed the comfort, and it managed to calm down my erratic heartbeat. "I know." Damian nodded at one of the security guards- who didn't bother looking at me. What was the deal with that? Once we arrived at the front doors, it was already opening and a man greeted us. He had a friendly smile as he gave Damian a handshake and I recognised him as Santino. "Boss, thank you for coming. I didn't think you were going to make it," he said, a grin on his face that matched Damian’s . "Of course, but I'm not staying long. Nova, this is Santino, my cousin. Santino, this is Nova," he paused for a moment. "My date."

They said he brought women here when he was bored, that he did not like to be watched, and that none of those women walked out the front door afterward. Some claimed they were sent away before dawn. Others swore they were never seen again. The kinder version called him a thrill-seeker. The worse one called him something else entirely, a bloodthirsty maniac who treated people the same way he treated prey. Outside, Simon hesitated. I could not see his expression, but I could imagine it. Ethan had always been suspiscious and calculating. The idea of playing second to Ethan’s “fun”, must have bruised his pride.

BEFORE YOU READ Bless me, Father, for I am about to sin. Themes: Forbidden Romance, Priest/Parishioner, Age Gap, Sacrilege. This story explores the fine line between salvation and damnation. If religious themes mixed with explicit erotica make you uncomfortable, this confessional isn't for you. (***) Serena The sound of my heels clicked with a sacrilegious echo in the void of the church. It was late, the sun had already set, and the only lights left burning were the candles casting long, dancing shadows over the ancient wooden pews.

I knew how short tempered he was and the slight thing I said could be something he didn’t like. Just then, some of his men walked into the room, their eyes heavy with things they couldn’t say. Sinclair seemed to understand because the next thing I knew, he followed them out without another word to me. With nothing else to do, I decided to roam around the pack house, going to places I knew I shouldn’t even be found in in the first place. If Sinclair so much as caught me in this place, I knew that it would spell trouble for me but I didn’t care because there was nothing I could do to defend myself. All of them saw me as guilty and until proven otherwise, I was guilty in their eyes.

The doors behind them slammed shut with a deafening boom. Everyone jumped. “What the fuck?” Damien shouted, running back to the doors. He pulled hard, but they wouldn’t budge. The windows sealed themselves with a grinding sound, metal shutters sliding down from nowhere. Panic rippled through the group. Then a deep, ancient voice echoed through the entire mansion, smooth and terrifying, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Welcome, little sinners… to The House That Feeds On Sin.” The voice paused, letting the words sink in.

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.