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?
Chapters
Share
Chapter 5
DIANE
A loud ringing snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Excuse me, I have to take this," Damon said, excusing himself as he left the room.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding while rocking against my heels with my arms folded across my chest.
Dad looked at me with a wide smile spread across his lips as he leaned against the edge of the desk.
"So Paris huh?" He leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. "Four years in the city of love and you come back single? What happened? Did you forget how to flirt, or were French men just not cutting it?"
"Dad!" I felt my face heat up.
"What? I'm just saying, I was expecting at least one heartbroken Frenchman following you home, dramatically declaring his love in broken English," he said with a little chuckle at the end.
I couldn't help the laughter that escaped my lips. I pulled out one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat down. "That's not how real life works, you know?"
"An old man can only dream," he said laughing.
I cleared my throat. "But seriously, Dad, about this whole assistant thing..."
"Why? You don't want to do it?" He raised his brow.
"No no... I mean yes. Yes, I do. I was just wondering if it was a good idea."
"Of course it is. That man built an empire before he was in his mid-twenties. He's in the best place to teach you all you know about running a company," he reassured, a wide smile on his lips.
But that was the least of my burdens. If it were a different person, I wouldn't have a problem working as their assistant for the time being. But when it came to Damon Pierce, this was all shades of wrong.
I nodded, not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer. I had to do what needed to be done and hopefully I'd be able to get through this unscathed.
Dad smiled at me again, clearly satisfied that I'd agreed. "You'll do fine sweetheart. Damon's tough but he's fair. You'll learn faster than you think."
"Yeah," I muttered, trying to sound convinced.
He checked his watch and sighed. "It's getting late. You should get some rest. The event planners will be here in the morning to get started on the decorations."
"Alright, Dad," I said with a little yawn. "Good night, Dad."
I stood up and hugged him before leaving his home office and shutting the door quietly.
The place was so dim that I had to squint my eyes to be able to see where I was going when...
Thud!
I collided headfirst with a hard surface, causing me to stumble backwards while holding my forehead.
"Shit," I murmured as the pain surged through me.
"Are you okay?" a deep voice resonated right in front of me.
Scratch that. That wasn't any wall, that was a hard chest. Damon Pierce's.
He held on to my arm as I stumbled, catching me just before I hit the ground. His hands were warm against my skin.
"Yes...I'm–I'm fine...," I managed to get out amidst the dizziness.
He didn't let go immediately. His grip was firm and his arm snaked around my waist to steady me, his fingers brushing against the bare skin at my back where my top had ridden up.
The touch sent a hot shiver right through me.
"You should be more careful," he said, his warm breath fanning my face.
My knees buckled at the sensation of him this close to me with his arms around me.
Just one touch from Damon Pierce had reminded me exactly why leaving New York hadn't been enough to forget him.
This was bad. So so bad.
I stepped back from his hold, trying to put some reasonable distance between us.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't see properly." My voice was barely above a whisper, still clearly affected by the effect his touch had on me.
" I-I should go. Good night, Uncle Damon," I rushed out and headed towards the staircase, trying to get away from him as fast as I possibly could.
"Diane." I didn't get too far when I heard him call out my name.
I halted in my steps, hearing the soft echo of his footsteps against the tiles as he approached me.
I slowly turned to face him, my mind doing a whole marathon.
He closed the distance between us. For a second, I thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out to me.
"Put your number in," he said, his tone was calm and casual. "For work," he added.
I hesitated for a second before taking it. The tips of my fingers brushed against his, just slightly, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.
God, why did he always have that effect on me?
I looked down, pretending to focus on the screen while typing in my number. My hands felt a little shaky. I hit save and handed the phone back, careful not to meet his eyes.
He took the phone and tucked it away into his suit jacket.
"Good night, Diane," he said, his voice quiet but deep.
"Good night," I murmured, forcing a small smile before turning toward the stairs.
I could feel his gaze on me as I walked away. The moment I got to my room, I shut the door and sat down on my bed, trying to slow down my breathing.
After a couple of minutes, I heard the low hum of his car before he drove away.
If I was going to survive working with him then I desperately needed to get my emotions in check.
You may also like
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.