Sinful Addiction
HOLY SHIT! My father's best friend had his face buried in between my legs.
I threw my head back against the headrest, fisting his hair in my palms but it only urged him to go faster.
His breath was warm against my clit and just when I thought I couldn't get enough, he hummed, the vibration sending intense waves of pleasure through me.
"Oh my God," this was so wrong yet my body betrayed me, leaning closer into his touch.
~~
Diane Ashford thought four years in Paris had killed the forbidden feelings she had for Damon Pierce. But returning to New York brings the past rushing back. Damon is her father's best friend, her protector, and the man who makes every part of her body ache for him.
Now working as his assistant, Diane must face desire, secrets, and family lies that could destroy them. Damon is powerful, possessive, and impossible to resist.
Can their forbidden love survive the truth or will it ruin them both?
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Chapter 2
DIANE
3 DAYS LATER...
The breeze whipped my hair in all directions as I stepped out from the airport building, dragging my little luggage behind me.
I didn't like traveling heavy so I'd sent my other things and they'll be arriving tomorrow.
I reached for my phone in my purse as I searched the swarm of people and cars for the familiar face of our family driver, Ray.
Pulling my shades down to shield my eyes from the intensity of the sun rays, I switched on my phone and was about to dial the driver's number to ask where he was parked when a message notification from my dad popped up.
I squinted my eyes and was about to click on the message when a voice sounded, freezing me on the spot.
My breath hitched, the heartbeat pounding loudly against my ribcage.
It can't be. It can't possibly be. It definitely can't be!
"Diane," the deep and husky voice called out my name again.
Even in my sleep I could recognize that voice anytime and anywhere, even from a mile away.
I'm mistaken right? It can't possibly be him. Dad said the driver would come pick me up.
That's right. I clicked on the message my dad sent, the letters blurring in my vision. I skimmed through the text, seeing the words busy, can't make it, office, driver, Damon, pick you up.
What?!
My legs felt like jelly. Through my eyes that were still glued to my phone screen, I saw a shadow of a figure approaching me, blocking the sun from my view.
I feared to look up. I couldn't. I couldn't control how fast my heart was beating, how sweaty my palms were. I suddenly felt so hot all over. My hand that rested on my luggage faltered, causing the luggage to slip to the ground.
I slowly lifted my head up, seeing him stride towards me in quick steps. I didn't move as his figure towered effortlessly above my 5'9 height.
I took in his features. The suit hugged his arm and torso like a second skin, his hair was still the same, gelled back in his usual signature look, his beards well groomed with a tint of silver.
The sight of him sent a dull ache to my nether region.
As he came close, the familiar scent of his cologne hit me, enveloping me in the sweet and addicting scent.
"Diane?" He cocked his brows as if for a second he thought he was mistaken.
I quickly gathered myself, mentally reciting the words I'd always used to calm myself from doing something stupid especially when he was close by.
'He's my dad's friend. I don't like him. I'm just confused. It'll all go away soon' I recited.
"Hi, Uncle Damon," I tried to put on a smile but my insides were in total chaos.
He wasn't meant to be here.
"You're all grown now Diane," his eyes swept over me and lingered for a second longer before he caught himself and looked away.
I felt my knees buckle at that singular act.
"You aren't the little girl I once knew anymore." His words hung around me. To him it might have been an innocent compliment but my mind had to take it a thousand miles further.
He said I was all grown now. Does it mean perhaps he notices me? Hell no. I'm his best friend's daughter. I'm sure he'd never look at me wrong or even think of it.
I smiled and muttered a small "thank you."
"How was your flight?" He asked, reaching for the luggage on the floor. I could see the way his muscles flexed even in the suit at his movement.
He was so close to me and my hands itched for me to touch him but no. I couldn't.
"It was smooth," I replied absent-mindedly, my mind still clouded by his more mature features.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
"Richard had an emergency meeting and the driver meant to pick you up had to take him," he said as he dragged the luggage and I followed behind him.
"Yes...um he left me a message," I replied awkwardly while tucking my hair behind my ears.
He nodded. "How was college? I heard you're all done now. That's wonderful news Diane." The way my name rolled off his tongue made my stomach tighten. Oh God! I was acting like a hormonal teenager that just saw her crush!
"Thank you Uncle Damon."
We came to a stop in front of a Rolls Royce Phantom. Of course! Damon Pierce doesn't do anything by halves. I'm talking about generational wealth here!
He opened the boot and effortlessly lifted my luggage like it weighed nothing and placed it into the boot.
I stood watching his every movement with my mouth half open.
He closed the boot and came towards me. My heart pounded faster as he closed the distance between us, his eyes locked on mine.
My back hit the side of the car as I took a step back. He took one closer. I took fast and shallow breaths as he invaded my personal space.
"W‐what-" the words died in my throat as he reached to the side and pulled the passenger door open for me.
My face heated up and I knew I'd be as red as a tomato.
I quickly gathered myself, trying not to show him how flushed I was as he came close to me.
"Um...uh T-thank you," I stuttered and slid into the passenger seat, the leather seats smooth and soft against my body.
He closed the door with a dull thud, before rounding the car and getting into the driver's seat.
He ran his hand through his hair, an action that I've gotten accustomed to. He does it whenever he's nervous. Did I make him nervous? No. Impossible.
"Cold?"
"What?" I asked confused.
"Are you cold?" He asked, taking off his suit jacket. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his forearms.
"N-no," I said, barely audible but he heard me because he nodded.
He placed his jacket at the center console, one sleeve falling on my lap. I couldn't help myself from tracing my fingers across the jacket, imagining it was his arm I was touching instead.
I looked up at him only to see him roll up the sleeves on his shirt revealing his muscular arms before he pulled his tie down and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.
My throat immediately went dry. I averted my gaze and shifted uncomfortably in the car.
He turned on the air-conditioner. The engine roared to life as he started the car.
I stole one more glance at him as he drove away from the airport, his left hand on the steering wheel while his right hand rested on the center console.
He was left-handed and I found it all the more alluring and intriguing.
I could see a little hint of stress and tiredness in his face as he drove. I wish I could take it all away.
Oh my God. This is just my first day back and I'm barely holding up with him this close to me. How am I meant to survive this?
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8.5
After four years of marriage, my wealthy husband Brad handed me a $50,000 severance check outside the Manhattan Family Court.
He linked arms with his mistress, Jenna, who flaunted the diamond ring that used to be mine.
"Just take it, Hayley. Take the money and get out of our lives," he sneered, looking at me with absolute disgust.
I tore the check into pieces, but my nightmare was just beginning.
To access my grandfather's trust fund, I had exactly seventy-two hours to get legally married, so I desperately proposed a one-year contract marriage to a poor insurance salesman I met in a dive bar.
When Brad found out, he and his arrogant family cornered me at their estate.
Brad mocked my new husband for being a penniless, money-grubbing parasite, while my former mother-in-law slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground.
"You are trash, just like your mother," she spat, watching my knee bleed onto the sharp gravel.
Jenna gleefully kicked my phone away, shattering the screen and cutting off my only lifeline.
Lying there in the dirt, I stared at the broken glass in absolute despair.
I didn't understand why four years of quiet devotion had earned me nothing but cruel betrayal and endless humiliation from the people I once called family.
Just as I thought I had completely lost, a black Lincoln Navigator slammed to a halt at the gates.
My "penniless" new husband stepped out, radiating a terrifying, righteous fury that made the entire Patton family freeze in horror.
8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.
8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.
9.3
For years, Gabriela believed the man beside her would be the one she grew old with. They had loved each other since they were young, but in the end, all those years meant nothing beside a younger woman's smile.
Returning from a business trip, she uncovered his betrayal with brutal clarity. Still, she did not cry or beg. She took out her phone, recorded every damning second, and filed for divorce the moment she could.
Afterward, she rebuilt her life into something brighter, richer, and stronger, even marrying a powerful tycoon. As for her ex and his shameless mistress, they could rot together.
9.4
I was Aliana Donovan, a resident physician, finally reunited with the wealthy family I' d been lost from as a child. I had loving parents and a handsome, successful fiancé. I was safe. I was loved. It was a perfect, fragile lie.
The lie shattered on a Tuesday when I discovered my fiancé, Ivan, wasn't at a board meeting but at a sprawling mansion with Kiera Reese, the woman I was told had a mental breakdown five years ago after trying to frame me.
She wasn' t disgraced; she was radiant, holding a little boy, Leo, who giggled in Ivan' s arms.
I overheard their conversation: Leo was their son, and I was merely a "placeholder," a means to an end until Ivan no longer needed my family's connections. My parents, the Donovans, were in on it, funding Kiera' s lavish life and their secret family.
My entire reality-the loving parents, the devoted fiancé, the security I thought I' d found-was a carefully constructed stage, and I was the fool playing the lead role. The casual lie Ivan texted me, "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you. See you at home," while he stood beside his real family, was the final blow.
They thought I was pathetic. They thought I was a fool. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.
8.2
A virgin at thirty? A plus-size? Yes, that's Hera. After a painful heartbreak, she shuts herself off and chooses to focus on her career. Well, that's until She meets Mason aka Viper, the leader of Shadow riders motorcycle club on her way to her best friends wedding. He stakes his claim on her but life has a way of messing people up. Past traumas and bitter Ex's crawl on them. Hera has a secret, will Mason accept this side of her when he learns about it?
***
He is ready to settle, she only wants to play around. He is Jepoy aka Zero. The deadly weapon of the club, yet she elopes his traps, avoiding his claim.
She was not always like this, a traumatic marriage changed her. He saved her from him, but he can't save her from the hell she lives in everyday. Chloe knows she isn't ready to settle, Jepoy knows he must stake a claim on her. Two wounded souls, two different destination, is there a future for them?
TRIGGER WARNING: The story contains sensitive information.