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Sinful Desire
Sinful Desire

Sinful Desire

8.3
/ 10
Sinful Desire follows Robin Clay, a brilliant but emotionally bruised food scientist trying to rebuild her life after a painful betrayal. Living with her fiercely loyal best friend Lana, Robin is determined to focus on her career and leave heartbreak behind. That resolve is tested when she lands a coveted position at McCullen Confectionery—and meets its CEO, Jack McCullen. Jack is magnetic, powerful, and dangerously perceptive, awakening a desire in Robin she is unprepared for and deeply ashamed of, especially when she believes he is already taken. What begins as a professional interaction spirals into an intense, forbidden attraction marked by stolen moments, overwhelming chemistry, and a constant battle between reason and want. Robin struggles to maintain her integrity, her job, and her sense of self while Jack relentlessly pursues her, blurring boundaries and challenging her resolve. Caught between ambition and temptation, loyalty and longing, Robin must confront her deepest fears: repeating past mistakes, losing control, and surrendering to a desire that feels both intoxicating and destructive. Sinful Desire is a charged exploration of power, restraint, and the thin line between self-preservation and surrender.

Chapter 1 of Sinful Desire

…I knocked once and twisted the door knob with confidence. This time, with no hesitations.

“Good evening, Mr. McCullen. I have your report.” I said, stretching out my arm to hand it over.

He looked up, gazing at me with those blue eyes piercing straight through me.

Get a grip, Robin. He’s unavailable.

“Right. Have a seat.”

He returned to his computer.

“Give me a minute, will you.”

I nodded, my thoughts spiralling with an image of him and Millicent together.

I frowned.

“Done,” he declared, closing his laptop. He held his nape, rolling his head back and forth.

“You can leave it on the desk.”

I did, and stood up almost immediately… too quickly to leave, striding across the room to the door.

He crossed the room, just in time and caught my arm before I could make it out.

“Leaving so soon?” he purred, his voice raspy and sensual.

“Yes. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Wait. Don’t leave.”

He traced his bottom lip with his tongue, sending tiny shivers of molten heat spreading through my entire body. I turned my face away from him, flushed and throbbing at the groin.

GET A GRIP!

“Look at me.” He held my chin and tilted it up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “You’ve been on my mind all week. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Robin—but I intend to find out.”

His hoarse voice was laced with a seduction I wasn’t prepared for, I wanted to moan in response.

Oh God!

This was sinful. I spent every day scorning my shameless serial cheater ex for his betrayal, yet here I was, my mind twisting against me and craving for another woman’s man in ways that made me quiver and ache all at once.

I pulled away from his touch. I couldn’t do this.

“Mr McCullen…”

“Jack. Just... call me Jack.”

He said, taking slow, cautious steps towards me.

“Jack,” I said evenly, backing up. “I don't know what you think is happening here, but I'd like to work in the company away from drama.”

He strode towards me, closing the gap, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lip. He thought this was amusing?

God! Give me strength…please.

“I’m not imagining this, Robin. I know you feel this too.”

No, he wasn’t. I was so much affected by him, but I wasn’t about to disclose it to him. I wasn’t going to let myself fall for him…

His fingers brushed my lips lightly, I shut my eyes in anticipation, gasping softly. I was dead “I’ve thought about touching you and kissing you all week.”

“Please stop.” I whispered, my heart throbbing in my chest at full tilt, his intense gaze doing nothing to soften my wrecking body. I needed to LEAVEEE!

“You want this.”

I stood helplessly staring into his blue eyes, unable to look away, as he hypnotised me. He leaned in, lifting me effortlessly from the ground by my waist until we were eye to eye, his gaze devouring me on the spot. I was a finished woman.

“You’re too beautiful, Robin.” he murmured into my ears, brushing his lips gently over my earlobe. “I don’t know how I controlled myself for this long.” A rush of shiver broke across my skin, every nerve ending prickling and standing at attending. He had so much effect on me. I was too weak – too incapacitated to resist, to think straight, to stop this man.

He brought his face closer, pressing his forehead gently against mine. Every reason to end this madness had escaped, leaving me a desperate wobbling whip. The world narrowing to the space between us. I instinctively lifted my hand to his face, tracing the outline of his jaw with my fingers. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on.

Everything shattered.

He pressed his lips against mine in a slow pace, my mind going delirious with all sort of emotions piercing through me at different angles. His lips were warm, soft and pillowy against mine, allowing my tongue to slip gently into his mouth – feeling the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers carding through my long thick hair as we breathed each other in. His intoxicating fresh water mint scent with a hint of oud infiltrating my senses. My breathing hitched, our bodies pressing together against the wall, heat building between us, our lips moving in a hungry rhythm. His tongue rolled over mine, tasting our shared breath, feeling the thud of our heartbeats as he gently set me down on my feet, our hands fumbling to peel each other’s clothes away.

God, I have to stop this, he has a girlfriend… Oh God.

I ran my fingers slowly through his curls—so soft, so silky. Nothing about this felt wrong; we both wanted this, we both needed this, and I was going crazy with want. Yet...this was nothing but a sinful desire.

I needed him, but he was taken...

God! This wasn’t right, I was defying my own rule—never to get involved with a man who was already committed. Yet every sensible thought that came to me was thrown out the window, I was hopelessly undone by the pull of him.

He cupped my cheek and kissed every inch of my face, consuming me piece by piece, leaving no part of me untouched, no space for reason to survive.

My mind screamed restraint, but my body was overcome with desire, trembling under the towering height of this man. Captivating me with a want so sinful, yet I couldn’t resist.

“No…Jack,” I gasped, jerking away from him. Geeing myself up, I gingerly pulled my clothes back on, feeling ashamed— my thoughts far from composed.

“You’re not leaving, Robin,” he mused, his hands inching to hold my waist. “Not now.”

“I can’t do this.”

I withdrew, my legs buckling uncontrollably beneath me, betraying every shred of control that remained. My purse and phone sat forgotten on his swivel chair.

Shit.

I fled—leaving my purse, my phone, and my dignity behind.

******

A month earlier…

Sleep abandoned me as my eyes fluttered open. I rubbed at them gently before easing myself upright on Lana’s bed, and sighed. I missed Mason. God, I missed him so much.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I instinctively brushed them away with the back of my index finger, as though wiping the tears might erase the lingering pain too.

“He never deserved me,” I squeaked, my voice a few notes higher than usual.

Lana stirred beside me.

“Sorry,” I murmured, offering her an apologetic smile when her eyes lifted to mine.

Lana and I shared a space, we’d always shared everything, ever since we met as freshmen at Oxford University. Every high, every low, every messy in-between. She’d given up a Mayfair luxury house, her mother’s graduation gift, for my modest Bexley apartment—nothing too fancy. A decision that still baffled and irritated me.

“This space is big enough,” She’d insisted back then.

I’d rolled my eyes, imagining the life we could have lived in one of London’s most expensive neighborhood if she’d accepted the damn mansion.

“Still sobbing over the philanderer?” Lana asked, narrowing her eyes at me on a scowl.

I shrugged and moved past her to the bathroom.

“Robin, it’s been five fucking months. Can you at least try and get over the cheating bastard?”

She waited for an answer, it never came, then added, “If you’re going to cry, I won’t stop you. I’ve done my best and heavens knows I’ve tried.”

With that, she turned over, leaving me alone beneath the harsh bathroom light. I stared up the ceiling as if it held answers it was deliberately withholding from me. I murmured for what felt like the hundredth time that he didn’t deserve me, I heaved a sigh.

Yet, I still missed him.

I felt stupid. Gullible. Naïve. How could I still think of him after everything he did? After the pain he caused me?

I sighed, washed my hands, and headed back to Lana’s bedroom, only to stop dead.

Shit, nature was calling.

I groaned softly. How had I forgotten to pee? Mason had completely hijacked my senses. I retraced my steps, tugged down my knickers, and let it all out; his betrayal and my pathetic self, flushing it all down.

Hopefully, that was it.

Hopefully, he was finally out of my system for good. It was time to live again.

When I returned to the bedroom, Lana was fully awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Surprisingly, it’s not late at all,” she said dryly. “It’s just two in the morning.”

“I hear the sarcasm,” I said, exhaustion lacing my voice. “It doesn’t suit you. And I already apologized for waking you. I should go to my room now.”

“Don’t go,” she murmured, rummaging through the mountain of papers and quirking her lips up in a pout. “Help me with these.”

“Can’t it wait till morning?”

“Nope. I can’t sleep anymore.”

I didn’t argue. Instead, I climbed onto the bed beside her, helping her sort and mark the chaotic mound of biology practical papers sprawled across the cotton sheets. It took far longer than either of us expected.

By 3:05 a.m., we both gave in to the tiredness. Lana collapsed on her bed. I retreated to my room.

Just before I slumbered, my phone jumped to life beside me, flashing Mason’s name across the screen.

My eyes bulged out on a gasp, my gaze fixed on the screen, his memories ricocheting as my thoughts tumbled, my breath hitched.

Was I going to allow him back into my life after gut wrenching experience?

If I answered the phone, I would be disappointing myself yet again.

I stroked away the tear beneath my eyes, deleted his number and tossed my phone to the side.

Mason was done ruining me!

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Chapter 1 It was their seventh wedding anniversary. Carolyn found the divorce agreement in Roger’s nightstand. The pages were covered in scribbles and corrections, as if he’d agonized over them for years. *"If, during the marriage, I fall in love with another person, I voluntarily relinquish all assets and leave with nothing. Asset details as follows…"* His first impulse had been to walk away empty-handed. But the asset section told a different story—a mess of revisions. First, he’d crossed out the property he intended to give her. Then, the fifty million earmarked for her was scratched out and replaced with five hundred thousand. Finally, as if in penance, he had written a single line. *"Better to have Carolyn leave with nothing. No choice, Catherine is pregnant."* … Carolyn sank onto the bed, disbelief washing over her. On the agreement, Roger’s signature was clean and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. And the document had been drafted seven years ago—the very year they married. That year, Roger had been willing to give up everything for her. Yet every year after, he had crossed out another piece of their shared life. Now, seven years later, the one leaving with nothing would be her. Her phone buzzed abruptly. A message from Roger. *"Urgent business. Won't be back."* She called, only to find his phone already switched off. Another notification flashed—a screenshot from a friend. Catherine, the student she sponsored, had posted on social media. *"Wow, got praised! To commemorate my first period without a leak, the big boss said we should celebrate properly!"* In a nine-photo collage, Roger gazed at her, eyes crinkling with affection as he fastened a dazzling gemstone necklace around her neck. The post was tagged at a couples-themed hotel. Carolyn’s breath caught. He couldn’t remember seven years of marriage, of weathering storms together—but he could find the energy to celebrate Catherine’s… leak-free period. And that pendant… she’d seen it at an auction just last week. It was her mother’s lost heirloom. She’d been ready to bid when her bank card was frozen. She’d asked Roger why. A long time later, he finally texted back, telling her not to waste money on such impractical things. Clutching her bidding paddle, she’d sat helplessly in the auction hall. In the end, she resolved to sell one of her own designs to raise the funds. But someone on the phone swooped in with an unbeatable offer and took it. For weeks afterward, Carolyn hated herself—hated that she couldn’t protect her mother’s last keepsake. She never imagined the one who snatched it away was Roger. He knew exactly how much that pendant meant to her. Yet he gave it to Catherine. Even on their seventh anniversary, Roger had lied about being busy with work, while wining and dining the girl she’d sponsored. The anniversary gift he left her was a divorce agreement demanding she leave with nothing. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of infidelity. And Carolyn had known nothing. She’d even introduced the other woman to him herself. Catherine was the impoverished student Carolyn sponsored. The first time Catherine came to their home to give thanks, Roger found her intrusive and disliked her on sight. *"That girl has no manners. Tracked mud all over my cashmere rug."* *"If her grades aren’t up to par, cut the sponsorship."* Back then, Carolyn had teased him, saying not to be jealous—it was good the girl had a grateful heart. She never once suspected Roger and Catherine. For seven years, everyone in their circle believed Roger never played around. That he loved only Carolyn. But by their next meeting, Catherine had become Roger’s personal assistant. Roger explained, *"The girl’s had it tough. You’ve sponsored her for years. Giving her a job is just helping you out."* Carolyn had laughed it off. Now, hands trembling, she opened Catherine’s social media feed. Catherine had always hidden her posts from Carolyn. Now, she seemed desperate to flaunt everything. While Carolyn drank until her stomach bled to secure a deal for Roger, Catherine was using Roger’s card to buy her first Louis Vuitton. While Carolyn changed bedpans for Roger’s bedridden grandmother, Roger was taking Catherine to a perfume atelier for a blending class—calling it a business trip. Catherine had even complained online. *"Your wife is such a pampered princess. Can't handle the tiniest thing without you running back. Can she not live without a man?"* And Roger had replied beneath it. *"If she were half as independent as you, I’d have an easier life."* But that day… Carolyn’s mother had lost her battle with cancer. She’d cried until her heart felt shredded, scrambling to handle the arrangements. All the while, Roger kept checking his phone impatiently, eager to leave. Not for work, she realized now—but because he was desperate to get back to Catherine.
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