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 6
DIANE
I woke up gasping his name.
Not again.
This time the dream had been different. We were not in a room but rather, an office. His office. With the doors locked and the blinds drawn.
He had me on his desk, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the fabric of my dress higher while I moaned shamelessly beneath him, enjoying the things he did to me.
"Oh God," I groaned and threw off the covers, coming to reality.
The dreams were always so intense and they felt so real every time.
A part of me never wanted them to fade, but another part, the more rational part, knew that no matter how real the dreams felt, it was never meant to happen.
I ignored the slight ache in my chest and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. By the time I was done, I got dressed in some casual fits and went downstairs.
The workers were already here, setting up the decorations and putting things in order.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee hit my nose, and at that moment, my stomach decided to growl, and loudly, if I may add.
"Thank goodness, there you are, kiddo," Dad called from the living room where he was with two other ladies dressed in their caterer uniforms. He motioned me over and with a little smile, I approached him.
"Hi, Dad," I greeted, giving him a kiss on both cheeks while he sat.
"Ooh," he exclaimed, surprised. "That's very French of you," he joked.
Trust Dad to make everything a joke.
I smiled and sat down beside him. Two caterers stood nearby, each holding sample plates.
"Alright, Di, I need your expert opinion." Dad gestured to the women. "They're trying to kill me with choices."
"We just need a final decision on dessert, Mr. Ashford," one of them said patiently.
"Final decision," Dad repeated. "As if choosing between two perfect desserts isn't the hardest decision a man can make."
I laughed. "Dad, it's cake."
"It's not just cake, kiddo. It's my fiftieth birthday cake." He pointed to the first plate. "Classic chocolate ganache with raspberry filling."
The caterer held it out. It looked incredible.
"And option two?" I asked.
"Lemon lavender with vanilla cream."
I studied both plates for a second longer. "Have you tasted them?"
"Three times each. Still can't decide. You're the tiebreaker."
I looked at both again. The chocolate was safe, classic. The lemon lavender was different but elegant.
"Lemon lavender," I said finally.
"Really? Why?"
"Because you're not a 'play it safe' kind of person." I met his eyes. "And because Mom always said lavender was sophisticated."
Something flickered across his face then a smile graced his lips.
He turned to the caterers. "Lemon lavender it is. The lady has spoken."
Once they left, Dad put his arm around my shoulders.
"Thank you, kiddo."
"For helping you choose a cake?" I laughed.
"Yes. But not just that. For being here," I accepted his warm embrace knowing I was the luckiest to have him as my dad.
~~
The next few days passed by in a blur. The birthday preparations continued in earnest, and soon the long-awaited day was finally here.
I sat at my vanity doing my makeup the best I could. I was never a make up person but I knew a few things from watching make up tutorials.
I went for a minimal look, just some mascara to add weight to my already long lashes, and then I used eyeliners and finished with some nude lipstick.
I didn't want my hair to be of any discomfort to me tonight so I put it into a sleek bun on top of my head, letting my bangs fall loosely across my face.
Now it was time for the hard part. It was almost six in the evening and I was yet to fully decide on what to wear. Eight different dresses lay on my bed but I couldn't make a choice.
It was either too formal, or too casual, or just not enough.
Just when I was still going back and forth between what to wear, a knock sounded at my door. A second later, the door creaked open and my dad stood at the entrance fully dressed in a blue Armani suit.
"Dad...wow...you look...," I was at a loss for words.
"Old?" He cocked his brow at me.
"No. Not at all. You look amazing. Really good. I'm sure you really had all the girls chasing after you in your prime huh?" He stepped in and I helped him fix his tie but the bag in his hand didn't go unnoticed.
"I sure did," he chuckled. "But there was only ever one girl for me, though. Your mother." He touched my cheeks gently. "And she gave me you. So I'd say I did pretty well."
My throat tightened. "Dad..." my voice trembled as I tried to speak.
"No. None of that. No crying tonight, it's a party," he cleared his throat and I knew he was holding his back.
I nodded and my gaze went back to what he was holding.
"Here," he said, handing me the bag. "I knew you'd have a hard time selecting a dress so I picked one out for you."
"Oh dad," I threw myself at him, not being able to contain my excitement. "You're the best."
"You should get dressed. The guests will be arriving shortly," he said after I pulled away.
I nodded and he pecked my forehead before leaving the room.
I opened the bag only to be graced with a royal blue floor length and backless dress with a high slit by the right thigh.
Oh my God.
Heat crept up to my cheeks at the sight of the dress. This was it. Exactly what I needed.
I stripped out of my robe and put on the dress, loving the way it hugged my body in the right places and accentuated my curves.
This dress screamed temptation and for a second, I imagined what Damon's reaction would be like if he saw me in this dress.
I finished up with minimal jewelry because this dress was giving everything it should and more.
By the time I was done and stepped out from my room, soft piano music was playing downstairs.
I held on to the dress to avoid slipping as I took the stairs down.
Guests chattered and laughed with each other downstairs. I felt a pair of eyes on me and when I turned, I saw Damon standing with my dad and some other men and a lady on his arm. Her back was turned to me so I couldn't get a glimpse of her face.
His eyes raised to meet mine and for a second, I saw something flash in them before they darkened. He kept staring at me as I took the stairs down.
With shaky legs, I maintained my balance, not wanting to trip and disgrace myself in front of him nor the entire guests in this room.
I finally got to the last stair and let out a breath of relief before my dad finally saw me.
I smiled and walked over to them, muttering a small greeting to the men.
Damon nodded and shifted uncomfortably.
"This is my daughter, Diane," my dad introduced me to the men.
I greeted once more and some shook my hand while one lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, giving me a sly smile. I felt irritation crawl up my skin at his act but I did my best to mask my emotions.
"Diane, these are Mr. Benson, Marcus and Jonathan," Dad introduced and I gave a little wave.
"And of course Damon's daughter, Kara," Dad added.
"What?" The word came flying out of my mouth before I could stop it.
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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.