Obsessed with my Temptation

Rina Damen Obsessed with my Temptation Copyright © 2023 by Rina Damen All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Rina Damen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. First edition This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy Find out more at reedsy.com Contents AUTHOR NOTE Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Epilogue Ravenous for more? About Rina Damen AUTHOR NOTE One of the main characters in this book is an amateur boxer, but this is not a Sports Romance! I’ve done my research, but there are inaccuracies that are both intentional and unintentional. The focus of this book is the characters and their relationship (and the smut, don’t forget about that!), so if you’re okay with that, read on, my friend! And if not, then I’ll see you in the next one ;) For extensive content information, go to my website: rinadamenauthor.com and you’ll find a detailed explanation. Chapter 1 Scott If people knew what I really wanted, they would look at me very differently. The golden Prince, as people liked to call me, was supposed to be charming, perfect, always a gentleman, strong but gentle, steady yet sweet. I was good at projecting that image—I had done it for years. It was a role that I fell into naturally and I would fit it to a T if it weren’t for the desires that haunted me at night. I didn’t dream of sweet kisses and vanilla tangles in bed—No. Rough handling, the hard slap of skin against skin, the smell of sweat, and loud gasps accompanied by the satisfying weight of someone pinning me down. Those were my fantasies. And I would never tell anyone. Well, it wasn’t like I couldn’t, but more like I didn’t have the courage to. I was in my second year of college and known to have sweet, darling girlfriends that loved to laugh and were all too happy to have their own Prince charming. So no, I wasn’t about to tell them during our vanilla love-making that what I thought about in the shower had nothing to do with that. That being said, my relationships hadn’t been all bad. I really enjoyed dating and getting to know my girlfriends, but at some point, things always seemed to fizzle out. Which was why I was breaking up with my girlfriend. “I’m sorry it’s just… It’s not the same for me anymore,” I said, sounding lame and empty even to my own ears. Riley, with her pretty round cheeks, currently rosy from the falling tears, listened to my explanation and accepted it with the grace of a monarch. “Was it something I did?” she asked, looking up at me from beneath wet lashes. “No, of course not. You’re amazing, and I don’t want you to doubt that.” I meant it, too. We had fun together, and I enjoyed her company, but as the newness faded, I started seeing her more as a friend than a romantic partner. Not to mention that the sex part got harder. And not in a good way. My fantasies had been with me for years. They weren’t at the forefront of my mind all the time, but they showed up every once in a while, leaving me breathless, sweaty, and nervous. This time, though, my fantasies had been getting more frequent, more demanding. They were like phantom monsters, coming at night to hold me by the throat, making me need to put my hand under my pajamas so I could rut helplessly to the images of hands holding me down and sweet dirty words whispered in my ear. The worst had been when it had happened while I was having sex with Riley. My hard-on had been flagging, and when the idea of someone pushing me into her had popped into my head, I had come faster than I could process. She’d laughed it off, said it was hot how hard I’d started slapping against her, but the embarrassment and acute sense of shame had lingered within me. So this was what brought me to the local bar a week after. Tonight, I was on the prowl. Word had caught that I’d broken up with my girlfriend, and my popularity made it so that every guy-loving girl in this bar was circling around me like sharks that had caught the scent of blood. “Are you sure you want to get a hookup, man? It’s kind of out of character for you,” Antony asked, watching me closely. Part of me wanted to confess my burdens to my best friend, but when I tried to, my words died in my tightening throat. I didn’t think he would judge me for it, we’d known each other for fifteen years and I loved him like a brother. But it was a part of me that I’d kept hidden and reigned in for so long, I didn’t know how to talk about it. I was too afraid to make it real. “I’m sure,” I said after taking a long sip of my soda. “I thought I would try something new.” This was my last hope. I wanted to see if maybe I’d