APKDock Logo
Chapters
share
Sinful Desires (Volume 1) Novel Cover

Sinful Desires (Volume 1)

Warning 🔞 "So wet for the enemy", he taunted, scissoring inside me and stretching my walls. I moaned, throwing my head back and riding his hand. When he withdrew his fingers, I moaned at the loss. Adrian took his fingers to his mouth and wiped off my juices. Fuck! _______ EROTICA COLLECTION!!! Sinful Desires (Volume 1) Ten dangerously addictive steamy romances that will leave you breathless. From enemies to lovers, bodyguard protectors, CEO obsessions, mafia claims, and passionate vacation affair, Sinful Desires Volume 1 brings together ten standalone romances filled with steam and unforgettable Passion. You'll meet... A bodyguard who can't stay professional. A CEO who risks his empire for an intern. A mafia boss who softens only for one woman A firefighter who turns healing into desire. And more. In the next collection, temptation becomes even more forbidden, desires become more dangerous, and love crosses lines it was never supposed to touch. If you thought Volume 1 was sinful, you're not ready for what comes next so get ready because the sins only grow darker from here... Stay tuned for Sinful Desires (Volume 2)
Chapters
share

Chapter 6

Episode 6 - Lines Blurred

Camila's POV

The resort's lobby buzzed with forced team spirit, and laughter echoing off marble floors as colleagues clinked glasses under crystal chandeliers.

Over the weekend, I had gotten an email about a team retreat happening the coming week.

I'd arrived early with my suitcase in tow, determined to reset after that conference room disaster the previous week.

Adrian Hale couldn't keep derailing me especially not with the merger hanging by a thread and my career on the line. I thought about it long and hard after the conference room act and over the weekend, and I finally decided on something...

Boundaries.

That was what we needed.

Clear, professional lines to stop the madness before it tanked everything.

I spotted him across the room, towering over a group of junior executives with his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal forearms that were corded with muscles.

He turned just in time for our eyes to lock but I didn't look away fast enough. Heat prickled my skin despite the air-conditioned chill. But it was good we locked eyes though.

Talk to him, I told myself. Set the rules.

So I approached, weaving through the crowd with my sundress swishing against my thighs. It was a deliberate choice for the tropical vibe but by the time I reached him, I felt too exposed under his gaze.

"Hale", I said in a steady voice. "We need to talk". I lowered my voice. "Privately. Before this retreat turns into another battlefield".

He raised an eyebrow and excused himself from the group. We stepped out and onto the veranda where the ocean breeze carried salt and hibiscus.

"We need to set boundaries". I said immediately.

"Boundaries, Reyes? After you begged for more last time?".

I ignored the jab, crossing my arms. "Exactly. This... whatever it is...ends. No more office fucks, and no jealousy over investors. We're co-leads on a billion-dollar deal. Act like it".

His jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. "You think I want this distraction? Fine. Professional only. Shake on it". He stretched out a hand.

I stretched mine as well and our palms met with his grip firm. It lingered for a second too long that electricity shot up my arm. I instantly yanked away, heart pounding.

"Good. Keep your hands...", I gestured around,"...and everything else...to yourself ".

He smirked, but nodded. "Deal".

________

The afternoon blurred into team-building nonsense that included trust falls in the beach, and strategy sessions by the pool.

I avoided him, focusing on presentations, but his presence lingered like a shadow that was watching me during breaks. His stare burned holes through my resolve but soon, I was glad it all came to an end.

By evening, exhaustion hit and I headed to my room which was on the top floor with my key card in hand.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, only for me to find it empty. I stepped in, punching the button for the last floor. Just then, I heard footsteps then Adrian appeared just as the doors began to close.

He jammed a hand in, forcing the doors back open then he stepped inside, filling the space with his cologne.

"Going up?". He drawled, hitting the button for the floor below mine.

That meant he would drop first before me.

Thank God.

The doors sealed us in and silence stretched. I leaned against the wall, staring at the numbers climbing as I willed my pulse to slow.

But proximity was a mistake because his heat radiated inches away and memories flooded in: His cock slamming into me and his hands bruising my hips.

"This retreat's a joke", he muttered, breaking the quiet. "All this fake unity while we're at each other's throats".

"Speak for yourself", I shot back, glancing at him.

Mistake.

His eyes were on my legs, tracing the hem of my dress where it rode up slightly.

I cleared my throat and fixed my eyes back on the numbers. "I'm here to work. Not playing games".

I felt him shift closer as the elevator hummed while ascending. "Games? Like pretending you don't want me to bend you over right here?".

My breath hitched. "Boundaries, Adrian. Remember?".

"Fuck boundaries". His voice dropped.

But as unfortunate situations would have it, the elevator jolted to a stop between floors, routine maintenance light flickering on and off. I placed my hands onto the walls for support.

His hand braced on the wall above my head, caging me.

"You feel it too. That pull".

I should have pushed him away but instead, my body betrayed me as my nipples hardened against my bra while my core ached.

"This is stupid". I swallowed. "And dangerous".

"Then why are you wet already?". He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. His breath was hot and his free hand skimmed my thigh, fingers teasing the edge of my dress.

I gasped, clenching my thighs as his hand reached higher, finding the damp lace of my panties.

"Adrian...". It was a warning, but it came out needy.

Damnit.

Suddenly, the elevator whirred back to life, but he didn't stop. His thumb circled my clit through the fabric, causing sparks to be ignited. My hips bucked involuntarily.

"Say stop if you mean it", he growled, pressing his hard cock against my belly.

The doors dinged open on his floor but he hit the close button immediately, trapping is again. I didn't say stop. Instead, I grabbed his shirt, yanking him down for a kiss that was filled with desperation.

Our tongues battles, his stubble scraping my chin as I fisted his hair. The elevator climbed but we were lost, our hands roaming each other, everywhere.

He shoved my dress up and ripped my panties aside then plunged his fingers into my pussy. There was two at first then three, stretching me with rough finger thrusts.

I moaned into his mouth while I soaked his hands, the wet squelch echoing in the elevator.

"God, you're dripping for me".

"Shut up and fuck me", I demanded, palming his bulge, and squeezing it until he groaned.

The doors opened on my floor and we stumbled out, with his hand around my waist as we half-ran to my door.

I fumbled with the key card and when the door finally opened, we dashed in, door slamming shut behind us.

There was preamble as he spun me against the door, hiking my dress to my waist and freeing his cock. The veins were pulsing and the tip was already leaking with pre-cum.

I dropped to my knees onto the rough carpet and took him in my mouth. I sucked hard and my tongue swirled the head, making him hiss.

He tangled his hands in my hair, fucking my face with shallow thrusts. "That's it, take it deep".

Saliva dropped down my chin as I hollowed my cheeks, gagging when he hit the back of my throat while tears stung my eyes.

He pulled out abruptly and hauled me up, mouth crashing back to mine. He lifted me and my legs wrapped his waist. He impaled me on his cock in one savage drive and I cried out, my walls stretching full and burning around his girth.

"Fuck, so tight", he grunted, pinning me to the door and pounding up into me.

Each thrust jarred my body, breasts bouncing free from my dress as he ripped the straps down. His mouth then latched onto a nipple, sucking hard while his teeth grazed it until I arched as pleasure-pain shot straight to my core.

We moved to the bed while trying to shed our clothes in a frenzy. He tore his shirt open and my dress pooled on the floor. He flipped me onto my stomach and yanked my hips up, then slammed back in from behind.

His palm cracked against my ass, making the sting bloom into heat as he fucked me deeper, balls slapping my clit.

"Harder", I begged, pushing back while my fingers clawed the sheets as they bunched.

He obliged, grip bruising my waist as his pace turned brutal. Sweat slicked our skin and the room was filled with grunts and the obscene slap of flesh against flesh.

One hand snaked under to rub my clit in tight circles. It made my orgasm build fast. "Fuck, I'm cumming".

"Milk me, Camila. Milk my cock".

I shattered and fell forward, pussy convulsing and squeezing him as waves crashed over me. He followed seconds later, roaring as he buried deep.

I rose to look down as his cum jetted inside me and filled me until it leaked out around his shaft. We collapsed, panting with him on me, his weight heavy but comforting.

Everything came seeping in. The merger, the team downstairs, and our so-called boundaries which was now in ruins.

"This can't keep happening", I whispered, but even I didn't believe it.

He rolled off, pulling me against him. "Then stop making me want you so bad".

Keep Watching!
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading
Unlock All Episodes
Open the Official Website

You may also like

Betrayed Wife: Hiding The Mafia Boss's Son Novel Cover
7.1
I woke up wrapped in the arms of a man I believed would burn the world for me. Michael Thorne was the underworld’s golden boy, and I was pregnant with his legacy. But by sunset, the illusion shattered. During our family brunch, the doors burst open and a woman dragged a four-year-old boy into the room. The child had Michael’s nose. His chin. "Tell them who Leo is!" the woman screamed. Michael froze. He didn't deny it. While I stood there in shock, his mistress lunged at me, clawing at my face. My husband hesitated. In that split second, I realized I wasn't his wife; I was just an incubator for his empire. He had kept a secret family as an insurance policy. My father destroyed Michael’s career in an hour, stripping him of his money and status. But I wanted to destroy his soul. He begged for forgiveness, weeping, claiming he loved our unborn child more than anything. So I placed a hand on my stomach and looked him dead in the eye. "There is no baby, Michael," I lied. "Your legacy is dead." As he fell to his knees, broken, I walked away to build my own empire—with the son he would never know existed.
Discarded Heiress: Reborn from Mafia Prison Novel Cover
7.6
Seven years ago, my fiancé, Don Dante Moretti, sent me to prison to take the fall for my adopted sister, Chiara. He called it a gift—a way to protect me from a worse fate. Today, he picked me up from prison only to abandon me at my family's estate. His reason? Chiara was having another one of her "episodes." My parents then informed me I'd be staying in the third-floor storage room, so as not to disturb the fragile girl who stole my life. They celebrated her "recovery" with a lavish dinner party, while I was treated like a ghost. When I refused to join, my mother hissed that I was ungrateful, and my father called me jealous. They assumed I couldn't understand their venomous whispers. But prison was my university. I learned Spanish. I understood every word. It was then I realized I wasn't just a sacrifice; I was disposable. The love I once felt for all of them had turned to ash. That night, in the dusty storage room, I logged onto an encrypted channel I'd set up years ago. A single message was waiting: "The offer stands. Do you accept?" My hands, scarred and steady, typed back, "I accept."
Mafia Princess's Vengeance for Lost Heir Novel Cover
8.2
At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family-a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.
My Sexy Sassy Boss Novel Cover
8.4
May Boston is a sassy, powerful woman who owns the biggest fashion agency in the city. Her perfectly controlled world is thrown into chaos when she crosses paths with Luca, a homeless man suffering from amnesia. Out of pity, and curiosity, she lets him live with her. What she does not expect is to be bossed around in her own house, treated like a subordinate, and willingly doing everything he asks. Slowly, without realizing it, May falls deeply in love with him. That turns out to be her greatest mistake. Because before Luca lost his memory, he was the ruthless king of the largest Mafia group in Italy, Oliver de Luca
OWNED BY THE RUTHLESS MAFIA Novel Cover
7.3
I was never supposed to step into his world. I was just a daughter trying to survive the wreckage of a father's mistakes. A quiet girl living a small, careful life-until one night shattered everything I thought I knew about fear, power, and possession. They say the mafia doesn't forgive. They say debts are paid in blood. They never warned me that sometimes, the price is a woman. Luciano De Luca. The name alone makes men lower their voices and avert their eyes. A king without a crown. A devil in a tailored suit. He rules the underworld with calculated brutality, commanding loyalty through fear and obedience through bloodshed. To him, mercy is a weakness-and love is a lie told by foolish men before they die. Luciano is not a man you reason with. He is power, violence, and control wrapped in a deadly calm. A mafia king who destroys without mercy and takes without permission. When my father fails to pay his debt, Luciano takes me instead. I become his collateral. His punishment. His possession. Trapped in his world of blood and secrets, I am nothing more than a reminder of betrayal-kept under his watch, bound by his rules, and stripped of every illusion of freedom. Luciano made it clear from the start: I am not his guest. I am not his lover. I am not free. I am his possession. He watches me like a predator studying prey-cold, assessing, waiting for me to break. He expects fear to reduce me to nothing. He expects me to beg. To submit. But I don't. And that defiance ignites something far more dangerous than hatred in him. But somewhere between the locked doors and the whispered threats, I realize something dangerous: the man who owns me is far more broken than he wants the world to know. Luciano De Luca is ruthless-but he is not heartless. He is controlling-but barely. And every time I challenge him, every time I look him in the eyes without flinching, something dark and volatile stirs beneath his calm exterior. Luciano doesn't love. He claims. He controls. He owns. Yet the more he tries to crush my spirit, the more obsessed he becomes. His protection turns violent. His control turns suffocating. His eyes follow me like a promise and a threat all at once. He says I am his weakness. His mistake. His curse. Yet when enemies circle too close, it is Luciano who shields me with his body. When danger threatens, it is his voice that growls warnings, his hands that tighten possessively, his presence that promises violence to anyone who dares touch what is his. Because once a mafia king decides you belong to him... escape is no longer an option. I am trapped in a golden cage built from power, luxury, and danger-but the greatest threat isn't the guns, the blood, or the men who would kill for him. It's the way Luciano looks at me when he thinks I'm not watching. The way his control fractures when I'm hurt. The way his name feels dangerous on my lips. Because loving a mafia king is not a fairy tale. It's a war. A war between survival and desire. Between freedom and obsession. Between the girl I used to be and the woman his darkness is shaping me into. The deeper I fall into his world, the more I uncover secrets buried beneath his cruelty-betrayals that made him this way, scars that never healed, enemies that would destroy us both if given the chance. And as the line between captor and protector blurs, I'm forced to face a devastating truth: The man who owns my body may soon own my heart. But loving Luciano De Luca comes at a cost. Because in his world, love is a liability. And the moment he chooses me... is the moment he paints a target on my back. Will I escape the man who claims to own me? Or will I surrender to the darkness that refuses to let me go? In a world ruled by blood, power, and betrayal, one innocent woman will discover that the most dangerous thing of all... is being loved by a ruthless mafia king.
Pampered By The Assassin Family Novel Cover
9.1
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears. When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me. Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead. I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind. But I was completely wrong. My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron. My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman. My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density. They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.