SLEEPING DOGS
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A NEW WOLF REVEALED
Scene #25 last updated 2/18/18

Bullying Teacher

The Complete Serial
$4.99
This book contains all five episodes of Bullying Teacher previously published by Sadie Sins and bonus material never before read, totaling in over 60,000 words of content.

Beau Ashford has again found himself the victim of bullying. Surprising, considering he’s an established teacher now. His pretty face and weak demeanor have made him the target of every aggressive eye that’s turned his way, this time his own students.

Darien Castello—strong, confident and son of a billionaire senator—is willing to protect his pretty teach, but for a price. Either he gets paid $500 a week for his protection services, or he’s going to help make Beau regret starting his science position in the wealthy university. If Beau can’t afford it all, Darien is happy to take it out in trade. $450 worth of his teacher’s body.

What starts as a bizarre protection scam quickly spirals into something else as Darien awakens dark, confusing desires in his once innocent, straight teacher. Can Beau find a way to free himself from the strange obsession taking him, or will he be bullied into something that could lose him his job and life as he knows it?

18+ This completed serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and an exploration of bdsm and a master/slave relationship through the eyes of a controlling top and needy bottom. Expect spanking, bondage, multiple partners and exhibitionism in a school setting.

60,000 wrds, Published May 27, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 4, 2017

P Leslie rated it it was amazing

Enjoyed Bullying Teacher; it was hot, sexy yet dirty as hell. Beau and Darian had amazing chemistry – it was raw and intense. The story has elements of BDSM, extortion, and a gang bang – so be prepared. Fantastic smutty read with a sweet ending.
on July 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Darien Castello could not take his eyes off of Mr. Ashford. The guy had the face of a model; a really naughty one that wanted so badly to be pushed down and messed up. Damn, he had never really gotten off on just a face, but with his soft blond locks, bright blue eyes, and pouting red lips, Darien was totally hooked on his new teacher. Unfortunately, so were his classmates.

Mr. Ashford looked like prey, plain and simple. He was average height, slender, and had a way to his shoulders and walk that just screamed ‘jump me.’ Currently Tony and Radford were doing just that. They had cornered the new science teacher by the lockers and looked ready to start punching and maybe even stuffing if they didn’t get some cash off the cutie.

Darien took his time, dragging on his cigarette as he approached. No one had noticed him yet, which was fine by him. He wanted to take the opportunity to look at Mr. Ashford up close. The guy was hot. Really fucking hot. Pale skin, golden hair, and damn those lips. The nasty things he would do to those lips. Radford better not punch the man’s face or he’d have to beat the fuck out of him for ruining perfection.

“What’s going on, guys?” Darien casually slung his arms over Tony and Radford’s shoulders. Both of his classmates immediately froze. Darien was top dog for a reason. He was the tallest kid in school, the strongest, and when the mood struck him, the meanest motherfucker there was. Everyone knew. The ones that didn’t, figured it fast. Mr. Ashford would be getting that privilege soon enough.

“Fuck, hey Darien,” Tony said hesitantly. He glanced sideways at the tall brunette who had crept up behind them. When his eyes fell on Darien’s bicep right next to his face—the flesh hard and tattooed—he swallowed. “We were just having a chat with the new teacher. Nothing to get involved in.”

Darien’s gaze traveled over the blushing teacher who was currently glaring holes at the three students as he tried to straighten his rumpled shirt. Darien took his cigarette from his mouth. “Ah, well that’s where you’re wrong. I happen to have Mr. Ashford for fourth period. And if you’re messing him up, well, that’s going to mess up my grade.” Darien fixed on Tony again. “You wouldn’t want me to fail, would you?”

Radford immediately took a step back and ducked from his heavy arm. “Right, so I’m getting the fuck out. Sorry ’bout that, Mr. Ashford.”

Darien smirked at the incredulous expression on the man’s face when Radford apologized. “Um, don’t think anything of it,” Beau mumbled as he straightening his tie.

“What about you, Tony?” Darien asked, his voice full of implication.

Starting, Tony winced. “Hey, I got the message loud and clear. You wanna be teacher’s pet? By all means.” He went to duck away, but Darien grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled Tony sideways while he hissed.

“Wallet.”

Glaring, Tony reached into his back pocket and slammed the leather into Darien’s hand. Flipping it open, Darien raised his brow at his ever watching teacher. “This all of it?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Beau answered, expression full of surprise and gratitude.

Damn, he had amazing eyes. Sexy, wide, glowing blue eyes. Not bothering to look at Tony, Darien shoved the punk aside and listened to him huff away. He used the time to study his new teacher, one he hadn’t met until that moment. That was definitely going to change.

Darien let his gaze move from Beau’s handsome face, sturdy shoulders, and down his lithe body still trembling in aftershock. Sexy. Sexy, and sleek, and in desperate need of a very hard fucking.

There was no way he was letting things end here.

“You’re Darien Castello?” Voice quiet, Beau combed shaking fingers through his shoulder length locks. His gaze had strayed to where the other two had dissapeared, as if just waiting for them to turn around and come at him.

“That would be me, teach.” Tilting his head, Darien offered the man a drag on his cigarette. When Mr. Ashford shook his head, Darien finished it off, then dropped it to the hallway floor. He crushed it carelessly with his heel.

“You really shouldn’t…” Mr. Ashford’s eyes widened when Darien pushed him back and blocked him in with his taller, stronger form.

“You saw how easy that was for me, right teach? I just showed up, and those losers walked away.”

“Y-Yes, I was meaning to thank you.”

Darien smirked. The guy had the cutest fucking stutter too. “You might want to hold off on that.”

He opened up the wallet again, pulled out the cash and counted it while Mr. Ashford watched him with growing trepidation. “I’m going to take this… $300, and you’re going to bring me another $200 by Friday.”

“I am?” Mr. Ashford’s eyes narrowed even as his voice broke.

“It’s a good deal.” Cash now free of the wallet, Darien slowly snaked his hand around until he found his teacher’s back pocket. Ducking closer, he slowly pushed his hand into the man’s pants, watching intently as Mr. Ashford blushed and refused to meet his eyes.

Yeah, the guy was smoking hot and definitely interested. What it would take to get him to admit that interest, Darien was looking forward to figuring out.

He left the wallet but not before stealing a small squeeze of that tight, firm ass. “You pay me $500 a week, and I’ll make sure guys like that don’t mess up your pretty face.”

“You’re out of your mind—Ah.” His eyes closed as Darien’s arm suddenly pressed across his throat and he fell silent, head forced back against the locker.

“Mr. Ashford, it would be really easy for me to hurt you. And believe me, I wouldn’t feel bad about it in the slightest.” No, Darien would love every moment of covering this hot man with as many bruises as he could handle. Moving his head so that he was pressing his mouth to his ear, he added softly, “But if you’re a good boy and you do as I say, I’ll take care of you. No one will hurt you as long as I’m here to protect you.” Mr. Ashford gave the slightest of tremors and Darien fought back a smile. “It’s not a free service, teach. If you don’t want to pay me in cash, I might be willing to accept a trade.”

He slowly pulled a lock of Mr. Ashford’s hair aside, letting the silky strands run through his fingers. “I can think of a lot of things a sexy guy like you could do for me, teach.” His eyes locked with stunning blue, Darien pushed a thumb against those damn enticing red lips and smirked when Mr. Ashford gasped and turned his head away.

“Think about it. Next Friday once school gets out. Your room.” He pulled away, eyes lingering on the man’s lithe form. Mr. Ashford’s face was flushed with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and shame. It was sexy as hell, and Darien could think of a million ways to make him look like that all the time—starting with forcing him to his knees.

Fuck, it was his teacher’s fault for having such a damn sexy face. He might as well be begging for it.

Darien walked away whistling, hands folded behind his head. Breathing heavily, Mr. Ashford leaned weakly on the wall and watched him go.

***

This was not the first time Beau Ashford had been bullied. Hell, it seemed to be a constant in his life, starting as far back as preschool when the other kids figured out that his first name meant beautiful. That his face happened to match his name hadn’t helped matters. Beau had thought once he became a teacher and was seen as an authoritative figure, things would change.

They had not. At 35, Beau was still dealing with the idiots of the world that would judge him on something as superficial as his face and appearance.

He had left his last teaching assignment when a group of punks had gone so far as to burn his car. He hadn’t been inside it at the time, but it had been enough for him. Maybe he should have just given up on the whole teaching thing after that, but he was ridiculously stubborn to a fault and still young into his career. He was determined to help these young, troubled kids get a real future for themselves. Just, preferably, without getting his ass kicked at the same time.

That said, he had never had to deal with someone like Darien Castello.

He only knew Darien by name. The young man had yet to show up to a single class even though Beau had been teaching for over two weeks now at the prestigious private university. He wasn’t sure just how Darien was able to get away with not attending class, but he suspected it had a lot to do with who his father was. Reginald Castello was a senator. Beau had learned of the fact when he had sent in his attendance sheets and asked if he should be filing a formal reprimand with the office for Castello’s absence. He had been told to ignore it.

There was something terribly ironic about a rich brat demanding four-fifths of his income in the name of protection from punks just like him. Hell, at his last school Beau had only had to deal with a beating. He had learned enough to stop carrying cash with him there. For some reason, he’d assumed the richer students would be better behaved. Apparently, he’d been fooling himself.

A protection scam. He had to hand it to the little bastard—fine, huge mountain of a bastard—the guy was ambitious. At twenty-two, Beau sure hadn’t been thinking about blackmailing his teachers, and he sure could have used the money a lot more. As for Darien’s other threat… trading services… He was pretty sure the student had just been trying to freak him out.

Beau wasn’t into guys even though a few through the years had taken one look at his pretty face and slim form and assumed he was. Just because he didn’t date much–well, at all–didn’t mean he was into guys. He just wasn’t that sexual a person. He was too busy working and trying not to get his ass kicked.

He had tried to bulk up. He exercised every day, lifted weights—He wasn’t as weak as he looked. But even if he had muscle, it was compact, and he didn’t intimidate anyone. Not when they kept looking at his face. He just wasn’t a fighter. And normally he wouldn’t think that was a problem. But he really, really, really didn’t want to give up on his life’s dream because every damn punk thought he could be manipulated just by beating him.

Shit, but he hated his face. If he had been born a girl, it would have been an asset. As a guy, it was just a huge target for every aggressive asshole to treat him like shit. He had never had a bad thing to say about how anyone looked. Why the hell did he have to be judged by something so beyond his control?

It was Friday. Beau had been trying to ignore that fact for the entire day, but when the last bell rang it grew very difficult.

He didn’t have the money. Even if he did, he wasn’t going to let some cocky, rich punk steal his hard-earned yet pitiful salary. He had taken a beaten before, and he was likely going to take plenty in the future. Just another shit day having to deal with being born beautiful, brilliant, and also a guy.

Darien didn’t keep him waiting. Beau was just filing the rest of his paperwork away for the week when he walked in dressed in jeans and a tight, sleeveless t-shirt. He had a feeling it was to intimidate. Darien’s tanned, tattooed arms were ripped, shoulders broad, chest sculpted above rippling abs. It really wasn’t fair; Beau would have killed for a body like that. It didn’t matter how much he worked out; he just couldn’t get buff. He almost wanted to ask the guy what his secret was, but figured now was not the time.

“Hey, teach. How’s your week been?” Darien strolled up while pulling a cigarette from behind his ear, his dark hair cut short except his bangs that were spiky and streaked with red dye. With his sharp green eyes and thick dark lashes, Beau had to wonder why he was wasting his time tormenting his teacher when he could be off chasing cheerleaders or something. That’s what those jock types did, right? Got drunk in the parking lot and screwed the chicks that couldn’t stop talking for even five minutes. Beau couldn’t stand cheerleaders; the bitches made fun of him more than the jocks, like he was their competition or something.

“Hello, Mr. Castello. I do believe this is the first time you’ve been in my classroom. Unfortunately, you’re hours late.” Refusing to comment on the cigarette being lit when there were nearly a hundred no smoking signs in the building, he turned and began wiping down the whiteboard.

“Sorry, but science bores the fuck out of me.” Darien didn’t sound sorry. His eyes followed Mr. Ashford’s ass as the teacher obliviously reached and stretched to wipe the top of the tall board. “I was wondering if anyone’s bothered you since our last talk.”

“The one where you threatened to beat me up if I failed to pay you protection money?” Beau snapped bitterly and wiped the last of his writing away furiously. “No, surprisingly no one has bothered me since then. You must be quite terrifying.” He slammed the eraser down on his desk and turning back.

“You seem upset,” Darien observed blandly, his gaze calm and steady as he met his teacher’s blazing eyes.

“I’m not paying you anything.”

“Oh?” Exhaling slowly, Darien took another drag of his cigarette. “Were you under the impression that I wouldn’t beat the crap out of you? I thought I was very clear on that.”

Pursing his lips, Beau jutted his chin out stubbornly. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just go extorting your teachers. It’s illegal, for one. Damn rude, too. You’re not even out of college, and you’re already on the way to being a career criminal. If I had my way, you’d be—”

“Right, so I didn’t really come here for a lecture, Mr. Ashford,” Darien interrupted smoothly. “You owe me 200 bucks, and I’d much prefer that to you nattering on like a whiny bitch.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Beau fumed. Darien stood taller, flexing his shoulders and looking even bigger. It was hard not to notice, and he swallowed hard as Darien took a step around his desk. “I don’t have that kind of money. I’m a teacher. We don’t get paid much for the privilege of teaching the next generation of extortionists. I have bills. Rent. I enjoy actually eating once in a while. Next time you try this game, I suggest you consider the income your victim can provide before asking for such a ludicrous amount.”

His eyebrows raising in surprise, Darien flashed a small smirk. “I’ll take that into advisement, teach.” He took another step and Beau turned his head away when Darien pushed into his personal space, their chests nearly brushing. “So what can you afford?”

Beau had actually thought of this. He didn’t know why; it wasn’t like he could give in to this sort of thing. If one student started this crap, the rest would surely follow. But not only was Darien Castello damn intimidating, but he also had a senator for a father. Beau knew there would be no help for him after learning that fun fact.

“Fifty. It barely leaves me enough for gas to get to school every morning,” he muttered. He glancing at Darien, only to quickly look away when he found him staring at his mouth.

“Fifty? That’s a very different number than what I’m asking for,” Darien pointed out with a sigh. “But I’d be willing to consider it.”

Beau wasn’t expecting that, and he met his student’s gaze hesitantly. “Really?” If it only took fifty bucks a week to keep this bastard from giving him shit, along with the rest of the damn punks in the school, he might take him up on his offer.

When Darien had first shown up the other day and saved him from those assholes, Beau had thought him a godsend. Nearly a black knight coming to his rescue. Strong and intimidating, the other students had feared Darien. And well, no one had ever stood up for him before. Beau had honestly been grateful until he had tried to extort him.

“I’m not unreasonable, Mr. Ashford. I know not everyone is rolling in dough. So what are you going to give me to make up for the other $450 you can’t afford?”

Ice chilled his veins, and Beau bit his lip. Right. Of course. God, kids were monsters these days. “I think you seem to misunderstand just how little I have,” he said coldly. “I have no assets. I don’t own my apartment or car. I live paycheck to paycheck.”

“No, I got that.” Darien crushed his lit cigarette into the palm of his hand and then flicked it into the waste bin. “I was thinking more of services. Teaching is a service, isn’t it? You use your expertise to help others learn a topic?”

“I… I guess you could say that,” Beau answered hesitantly. “Did you want me to tutor you?”

Darien chuckled darkly. Beau had only a moment to realize he’d definitely misread the situation when fingers wrapped around his chin and pulled him forward, lips suddenly an inch from his own. “Mr. Ashford, how much would $450 get me with a guy like you?”

“W-What?” Trying to fight the way his face was heating up, Beau took a step back, only to have his back press up against the whiteboard.

“Let’s say I took you out on a date.” Darien’s free hand came up to lean against the wall and block his teacher’s escape on one side. “Someplace nice. Someplace where I could throw down $500. I’d get something back for that, right? I mean, it’s just expected, really.”

Beau didn’t know what was more offensive; that Darien thought that dating automatically meant you were buying affection, or that he just assumed he was the type to exchange money for sex.

“Mr. Castello, you seem to be confused. I’m not interested in men, and most certainly not my student who is also trying to extort me. And to answer your question, you should not expect anything back. A date is not buying sex. It is not expected, at least, not where I’m from. The very notion is offensive and—”

“Heh, you’re really cute when you’re angry.” Darien’s eyes ran down Beau’s form, and the teacher trailed off warily. “Teach, when you throw down $500 on a guy, you expect him to put out. It’s just natural.”

Beau was starting to get very nervous under that hungry stare. Yes, he’d had a few men try to pick him up before, but none of them had put much effort into it. They’d all been shy, intimidated by his beauty. Darien wasn’t like that at all. No, he didn’t seem very interested in how Beau felt about him or the situation, just so long as he got what he wanted. It made something clench inside Beau, made him hot, dizzy, and flustered.

“Mr. Castello, what you’re suggesting is highly inappropriate, never mind illegal. Immoral,” Beau managed to get out as he edged away from his towering student.

Darien shrugged unconcernedly and slammed his other hand down so that Beau was trapped between his muscular arms. He dipped his head closer, nose pressed to the side of Beau’s, lips just brushing. “I really don’t care, teach. I want to fuck you. Hard, rough, until you’re screaming my name.”

Blinking, heat rising to his cheeks, Beau tried to turn his head away. Darien followed and kept the same uncomfortable closeness. “I’m not into men,” he said, hating how shaky his voice sounded. Darien was nearly on top of him, heat roiling off his tall form, his breath even hotter as it puffed on his cheek.

This was very new for Beau. He’d had plenty of men threaten to hurt him. None of them had seemed into doing it while also wanting to fuck him.

“I told you; I don’t care.” Eyes moving over Beau’s face for a searching moment, Darien flicked his tongue out and traced his teacher’s upper lip.

Beau froze, breath hitched, eyes wide from the hot, wet touch. Something shuddered through him he didn’t want to identify. It only grew stronger when that tongue moved down, lapped his mouth, and teased slowly against the seam of his lips. “S-Stop,” he whispered. A groan tore from him when Darien’s large hand cupped his jaw roughly and held him in place so he could press their lips together.

It was hard, hungry, and like no kiss Beau had ever experienced before. Darien wrapped his fingers into his long hair, pulled demandingly, forced his head back and lips open. Tongue shoving deep into his mouth, he used his larger body to pin Beau tight against the wall, and grind his hips against his trapped body.

“Oh, hell,” Beau gasped into the kiss. Another groan escaped when he felt what could only be Darien’s hard cock rub against his hip. It was big, so hot and demanding, and for the first time, Beau allowed himself to wonder just what it would feel like to touch another man’s dick.

He shouldn’t. He really wasn’t like that…

Grunting, Darien pulled Beau’s hair harder and forced the whimpering man to bend his neck back in his strong hold. He crushed their lips together again, plunged his tongue against Beau’s, exploring his mouth heatedly while suffocating the lithe man. He rubbed unceasingly over his tongue, stealing his breath, grinding against him so hard, so hot, Beau’s knees started to waver and he slid down the wall with a moan.

“That’s it, teach.” Darien wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back up, then higher. He crushed Beau back against the board on tiptoes and sucked and nipped down his long, pale throat. “Fuck, you’re one tight piece of ass.” He pushed his knee between Beau’s slim thighs, groaning when he found a responding hardness pushing against his leg. “Yeah, that’s fucking it.”

Darien’s leg pushed him further up the wall. Beau could only gasp for air, his eyes half closed, moans escaping him with every grind of the strong thigh against his rock hard cock.

Fuck, what was happening to him? He shouldn’t… shouldn’t like this. Not with a man. Not with a stupid, arrogant punk that thought he could just bully him into anything.

Beau raised his arms, meaning to push Darien away, to show that even if his body was responding, it didn’t mean he wanted it. But once his fingers found his student’s hard biceps, he could only grasp onto them weakly and feel the powerful, hot flesh beneath his palms as his ass was grabbed and squeezed hard.

“God… Oh, god,” Beau moaned dizzily, and his head fell back against the wall. Darien gave a final nip to the side of his neck and moved back up to claim his mouth forcefully. Beau didn’t resist. His lips parted readily and body arched into the strong one moving against him, holding him close, pushing him down against the wall.

“W-Wait,” he whispered shakily but Darien swallowed his protest the moment it was free. His student’s large hand continued to work on his belt, quickly pulling the buckle open and tearing the button and fly to his slacks down. Blushing crimson, Beau moaned, his voice cracking when Darien boldly reached into his underwear and wrapped his fingers around his aching cock.

“Mr. Ashford, I think you might be interested after all,” Darien whispered against his lips, his grip tightening as he held Beau’s dick in the palm of his hand and felt it pulse with every gasping breath his teacher took.

Forcing his eyes open, Beau found Darien staring down at him, green eyes blazing fire and sex. He wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him to get the fuck off and never touch him again. Instead his hips jolted forward, his body pushing against his student’s hard muscles as another moan escaped him.

“That’s it. Fuck, you look damn slutty with your dick in my hand.” Darien gave Beau’s shaft a single stroke, then withdrew his hand reluctantly. “I’m going to give you a week, teach. A week to decide if you want to give me the proper fee for my protection. Or if you want to spread those fucking tight cheeks of yours and let me fuck you.”

His head spun as Beau tried to figure out where the hot hand had gone and soon after the hard, suffocating body. He slid down the wall without Darien to hold him upright and looked around blearily. Heavy pants fell from Beau’s parted lips, his head thrown back. He found Darien watching him from his large desk while lighting up another cigarette.

Once Darien’s eyes met his, Beau couldn’t look away. He wet his lips and struggled for air, half hating that his body wanted him to come back, to finish what he had started. He was aching. Beau had never ached like this before. It was maddening, confusing, and he needed release.

His breath caught when Darien slowly stepped back in his direction, the other’s gaze roaming over him like a predator sizing up a kill. He stopped inches away, Beau hyper aware of his student’s towering height, strength, the way Darien’s erection was bulging above his head.

Eyes locked with his, Darien pressed two of his fingers to Beau’s lips and pushed the long digits into his teacher’s mouth. Eyebrows furrowed, Beau groaned as his lips spread, his face hot with embarassment and arousal. He felt every push and pull as Darien began to fuck his mouth with his thick fingers in rough thrusts, dragging over his tongue, pressing deep down his throat, using his mouth however he pleased. Darien hooked his digits into his cheek, pulled hard enough for Beau to turn his head, then pulled him back to face him again.

“Pick the second option, teach. I have a strong feeling you’re going to like riding my cock.” Darien’s thumb squeezed his lower lip and tugged. He pulled his fingers from between Beau’s swollen lips and drew a line of saliva down his chin and long, pale throat. “Even if you don’t like it, you’re going to look so fucking hot with a dick up your ass that it’ll make up for it.”

Groaning when Darien’s hand wrapped possessively around his neck, Beau didn’t answer. He just stared up into his heated gaze as his head was forced back, lost in those burning green eyes.

“I have a previous engagement, teach. Otherwise, I’d stay and listen to how loud you scream when you come.” Darien’s gaze dropped to his glistening lips. “Yeah, you’re definitely a screamer. Maybe even a crier, which is just sexy as fuck. Make sure you’re thinking of me when you jerk off.” He released Beau’s neck with a dark smile, stepped back and headed for the door.

His eyes closed as Darien shut the door behind him and Beau let out a low, desperate moan.

Fuck… Holy fuck.

He was only twenty-two. His student. His extortionist, assholic student. He couldn’t.

God, he really, really couldn’t.

So why the fuck was he thinking about it?

A whimper escaping him, Beau hesitantly ran his hand up his hip, fingers pushed slowly under the band of his underwear.

Don’t… Anyone could walk in. He was in school. In a classroom in his damn school. Don’t think of him…

But he couldn’t stop. It was all he could think about; Darien’s strong hands, those damn muscles he had thought he wanted for himself but now he was pretty sure he just wanted to move against him, that fucking tongue of his, so demanding, so forceful and possessive.

He couldn’t. A senator’s son. His student. It would be a huge scandal—Fucking his gay student. God, he wanted to. So bad. He’d never wanted anything like this.

Licking his palm, Beau wrapped it around his dick. He bit his lip to stop his groans as he began to stroke firmly. No one had ever touched him that way before. He threw his head back, gasping, mouth tingling still from the feel of Darien’s rough kisses and rougher fingers. God, he could nearly feel it, the hard heat of his tongue, the cruel grip holding his hair, his strong body forcing him back, suffocating him and taking everything he wanted from him as if it were his right.

His gliding hand began to lose rhythm. Beau panted desperately, head rolling back and forth on the wall as he rocked his hips up. He came with a muffled shout, free hand clamped over his mouth as Darien’s eyes flashed in his mind.

Fuck.

Oh fuck, he was in trouble here.

Looking down slowly, Beau stared at the pearly white cum stringing over his fingers. He hesitantly raised his hand up and tentatively tasted his seed.

Would Darien’s cum taste the same?

Eyes closing at the realization of what he was about to do, Beau pushed two fingers into his mouth with a husky moan. He imitated what Darien had done to him only minutes ago, except this time with cum coating his fingers and dripping tangy into his mouth. It was the blowjob he had imagined when his student had forced his fingers boldly into his mouth and made him suck.

Fuck, he was in serious trouble.

 

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Robyn

Forced To Be Their Sister
Exclusive Library
Rob has had enough of his older brothers teasing him. Just because his mother insisted he was her honorary girl when she was done raising sons didn’t mean he was an actual girl! He’s sick of being treated like a chick and he’s looking for vengeance.

Rob’s three older brother’s are sick of their little brother acting like an angry, spoiled brat. When Rob crosses the lines with another one of his childish pranks, they decide it’s time to teach their little sister a lesson in being a girl the only way three muscular, controlling guys know how.

This story is 17,000+ words long. It contains graphic language, sexually explicit content between brothers, a great corset and leather boots, spanking, and mild humiliation mixed with some tears. 18+ Only

17,000+ wrds, Published June 11, 2016.
Heat level: XX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ROBYN

Sizzling hot story with four brothers! Loved the characters and the plot. Great job!
story warning: contains incest between 4 brothers. Wheew! This was another great story by Sadie. One thing you will always get with her books, is lots of heat! The best Thing about them though, is they have an actual storyline with that sex. If you like taboo books, this one is perfect! Rob and his older brothers heat up the pages.
Shocking debauchery.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Rob had finally had enough. His assholic older brothers had crossed him for the last fucking time. The three jerks had once again—well, Frank had and he totally fucking hated Frank—Frank had said he was a girl. Worse, a cheerleader. This time in front of the entire fucking football team. The bastard had stood in front of everyone and said the reason his little brother couldn’t try out for the team was because he was really a chick and they should have him cheer instead. And then everyone had laughed. Dan, his other asshole of a brother, had laughed the loudest and even Joey, who was usually the nice one out of the three, had joined in. Whenever he was around Frank and Dan, Joey always took their side. It wasn’t fair. Rob had three older, stronger, meaner brothers and they always picked on him.

Today, he was going to show them.

Rob stalked into their family kitchen, his parents still at work and his brothers still at practice. He placed the bag of sugar he had bought at the convenience store on the table, pulling a chair out and standing on it so he could reach the higher cabinet over the fridge. Fucking Frank was always laughing about how he needed to stand on something to reach the cabinet just like their mom. But Frank was a goddamn giant, as was Dan and Joey, and normal people needed a stool to reach that high. He wasn’t short and petite, he was just being compared to fucking giants. Everyone looked like a matchstick compared to his brothers.

Grinning viciously, Rob grabbed the container of whey protein powder out of the cabinet, gasping when he fumbled the large, plastic container and nearly dropped it. Fuck, that would have been a total mess. He cradled the container to his chest as he jumped down from the chair, then headed straight for the sink.

They thought they were so fucking great with their bulging muscles and tall, athletic forms. Just because mom had wanted a girl for the longest time and used to call Rob her baby Robyn didn’t mean he was a girl. Just because she had spent the first five years of his life dressing him in pink and calling him Robyn and telling everyone he was her honorary daughter didn’t mean he was actually a fucking girl. And what the fuck did his brothers do? Did they show sympathy? Did they try and help him bulk up like them or help him practice so he could join a sport? No. They just made fun of him too, teasing him for his slender body and cute face. They were always calling him Robyn, and cutie, and their pretty sis. God, he hated them all.

Just wait until the three of them were fat and slow, then they’d wish they were even close to as skinny as he was.

Rob poured three-fourths of the protein powder straight into the sink, turning the faucet on and running the garbage disposal so it wouldn’t clog. Taking the container with him, he hefted the five-pound bag of sugar and tore at the top of the heavy paper bag. Only to scowl, his fingers not strong enough to actually rip through the thick material. Goddamn, he hated his brothers. He could just hear Dan jeering in his ear about how weak he was. He didn’t have girl’s hands!

Grabbing the nearest knife, Rob stabbed into the bag, tearing the instrument out and pouring the sugar into the nearly empty protein powder container. He didn’t need to be strong; he was fucking smart. Once the plastic jar was filled, he replaced the wide cover and gave the powder a good shake to mix the contents. He got back on the chair, putting the container back where he had found it.

His brothers mixed the stuff into everything. Everything. It wouldn’t take long before they started getting fat, then they’d see how terrible it was to make fun of someone because of their body. Rob couldn’t help that he was short and thin. It was just the way he had been born. Just because his three older brothers had been born looking like Greek gods didn’t give them the right to treat him like shit. Fuck them.

Putting the chair back, Rob had a moment of quiet worry, his gaze sliding up to the cabinet. They always mixed the powder in stuff, usually flavorful stuff because it tasted like crap. He was pretty sure none of his brothers would be able to tell.

He snorted, grabbing the empty bag of sugar and crumpling it between his hands, then stuffing it into his backpack. He’d dump the evidence at school. He didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the bag in the house trash. No, he was fucking brilliant and didn’t have to worry about shit. His older brothers were a bunch of idiot jocks. Like they’d fucking figure it out?

***

It was after five before the once nearly empty house was full, Frank, Dan, and Joey coming home, sweat still clinging to them from their time working out. They all beelined it to the kitchen, crashing through the house like a small herd of animals. Their parents wouldn’t be home till much later seeing as it was their weekly date night, meaning the boys had to fend for themselves for dinner. Rob was nowhere to be found but the sound of the shower could be heard from the downstairs bathroom. Joey’s expression was grim as he scolded the eldest of the three tall, tanned, dark-haired brothers for his earlier comment.

“You know how sensitive Robbie gets, Frank. You really shouldn’t have said that. Not in front of the entire team.” Joey’s hair was longer than the other three, black and shoulder length with a soft curl that was currently dripping sweat while he chugged a bottle of water.

Frank, the tallest and strongest of the three, looked far from apologetic as he reached above the refrigerator and grabbed the protein powder from the cabinet. His hair was short with bangs that teased over his forehead when they weren’t spiked back. “Come on, Joey, the kid gets asthma walking to the fucking mailbox. He can’t join the team. Those guys would break Rob to pieces and you know it.”

Joey flinched, his kind, gray eyes full of worry as he imagined their petite, slim-limbed brother trying to go up against an entire football team. Rob was just too small and delicate even if he was all punk attitude.

“Besides,” Frank continued, taking the glasses Dan handed him and putting the three out on the table. “You know what Johnson would pull if Rob even stepped near a fucking tryout. No way in fuck I’m letting that happen.”

At Frank’s unhelpful lack of explanation, Joey turned with furrowed brows to Dan, the youngest of the three rolling his deep blue eyes back at him.

“Seriously, Joey? Don’t you fucking pay attention? Johnson’s been perving on Robyn for a fucking year now. You really want to let that creep near our little brother?” The glass clinked, Dan stirring milk into his protein shake. “Rob doesn’t know how to handle himself with a guy like that. Johnson would have the kid stripped and on his knees sucking cock in five minutes flat.”

His spoon held in his hand like a knife, Joey pointed it straight at Dan’s face, the brunette’s expression dark. “Could you please not put that mental image in my head, asshole? I will stab that fucker if he touches my Robbie.”

Dan and Frank exchanging a silent look, Frank carefully pulled the spoon from Joey’s hand. “Yeah, well, to save you from a life sentence in prison for murder with spoon, I made sure the kid wouldn’t step near the field,” Frank said flatly, using the spoon to stir his own drink. He dumped a final scoop of powder into Joey’s glass, replacing the lid to the container. “Robyn is too sensitive for sports. Remember when he tried to play kickball, then spent an hour bawling when he stepped on that butterfly?”

“Come on, he was ten,” Joey reminded, unable to stop a small smile from gracing his lips. Robbie had always been ridiculously adorable. It was kind of hard not to pick on him. He had the cutest face and just got so worked up over everything. How could you not want to piss him off until he threw a little hissy fit? Robbie’s beautiful, violet-blue eyes would flash angrily and he’d always try to take a swing at you even though the kid had the scrawniest damn arms. Of course, it always ended in tears, the boy so emotional, he’d be hiccuping by the time the older brothers relented.

Joey admitted to a dark, secret thrill in seeing his little brother cry, especially when Robbie would cling to him for comfort after, burying his face against his chest until he finally calmed.

Joey slowly frowned, growling internally when his mind flashed for a second on Nate Johnson who had started hanging out with the three of them more, always asking to come over to the house. If that fucker so much as looked at Robbie funny, he was going to beat the guy’s face bloody. He’d beaten guys for less when it came to his little brother. All but Frank and Dan, who he shared an unspoken agreement with to back off when things got too rough when picking on their little brother.

Maybe it was time to teach Robbie how to take care of himself. If a creep like Johnson was looking at the kid…

“He asked me to show him how to get strong,” Joey said after a moment, meeting Dan and Frank’s eye as his glass was handed to him. “He wants to learn how to fight.”

“Like fuck,” Frank growled. “The kid would be fighting everyone that looked at him sideways. He’s too mouthy, too undisciplined—Way too angry all the time.”

Dan agreed with a grin, raising his glass. “Besides, if Robyn was strong, then he wouldn’t be our cute little sis anymore.” They each took a sip from their respective drinks, Joey immediately spitting his back into his cup when the overwhelming flavor of sugar hit his tongue. Frank and Dan slowly followed suit, their eyes growing dark.

“Son of a whore—Didn’t we just get this stuff?” Frank tore the lid off the protein mix, scooping the powder up and putting it in front of Joey so his brother could inspect it. It was clearly sugar, the crystals unmistakable, large and nonclumping.

“The little bitch,” Dan growled lowly.

“He must have been really pissed,” Joey muttered, going to the sink and dumping his glass down the drain. He cupped some of the running water into his hand, rinsing his mouth from the teeth-itching sweet flavor.

“Yeah, but sugar? He knows that can kill you, Joey.”

Joey shrugged but his expression was grim as he glared down while the sink drained. Robbie had never tried to get him to eat sugar before. Watching his older brother take daily injections of insulin since the age of seven had set a line none of the Conner brothers had dared to cross before. “You know how he gets when he’s angry. He forgets shit. Says and does things he doesn’t really think out.”

“I’m the one that called him a cheerleader,” Frank said with a growl, tossing the protein powder straight into the garbage bin. “He should have come at me.”

“We all use the powder. Rob knows as much,” Joey reminded reasonably. “He wasn’t just going after me.”

“Fuck, fine, what the fuck are we going to do about it?” Frank fixed his forgiving brother with a hard look. “That shit was expensive and we can’t have Robyn dosing the diabetic with a daily shot of sugar. He’s got to stop with this shit already. It’s getting old, man.”

Joey sighed, slumping against the sink. “Come on, guys, you’re just going to get the kid more upset. You can’t keep picking on him. He’s never going to grow up if you’re always on his case about shit.”

Frank and Dan exchanged another look, Dan stepping up and whispering into his taller brother’s ear. Joey watched them warily, his arms folded over his chest.

“It’s just a punishment, Joey,” Frank assured him. “So Rob won’t do it again. Think of it like training.”

“Like fuck,” Joey said with a scowl. “What are you going to do, duct tape him to the door again? Robbie was pissed for weeks and only acted out more. This prank war hasn’t helped anything.”

Snickering at the memory, Dan shook his head. The boy’s eyes were full of mischief, Joey even more anxious to see. “Nope, I think it’s time our little bro grew into a full-fledged woman.”

“Damn it. You guys know that shit pisses him off the most,” Joey growled in exasperation. “He’s tired of us calling him a girl.”

“He looks like one,” Frank said flatly. “He’s sure underhanded and bitchy like one. And if Rob keeps this shit up, we’re just going to have to treat him like the girl he is.”

Joey inhaled sharply, his stomach tightening against his will. A part of him loved the idea of Rob as a girl. It was the same part that used to love to tease the boy merciless until he’d cry and cling to him, whimpering into his shirt front. For the longest time growing up, Robyn had been their little sister and it was really hard to let go of seeing the boy silky and in pink. But Rob wasn’t a girl, he was a really angry boy who had been a total pain in the ass lately. One that he really wanted to protect from whatever revenge Frank and Dan had up their sleeve. His other brothers knew Joey could take care of himself but because of his illness, they still felt the need to overreact. Something he was pretty sure the two were going to do again as Dan suddenly bounded down the stairs and out of the front door right after flashing Frank a grin.

Fixing his remaining brother with a glare, Joey pushed himself from the sink. “What the fuck did you mean by that? What are you going to do to him?”

“You mean, what are we going to do to him.” Frank wasn’t intimidated by Joey’s scowl, returning it with a tilted chin. “You’re the one babying him, Joey. You let Rob get away with all kinds of shit.”

“I have to,” Joey said reasonably, used to this particular argument. “You guys are total asshats to him. He thinks we all hate him.”

Frank wasn’t impressed. “We just say shit, bro. Robyn’s been a total terror. He poured soda in our beds, put glue in the shampoo and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that left out Dan’s porn for mom to find. He told Jessica that we all have crabs and that—”

Joey sighed heavily, running his hand through his shoulder length hair. “Fine, I get it. He’s been a total dick lately. Just, you freaking out on him isn’t helping shit.”

Frank shrugged, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice instead. “You babying him hasn’t done shit either. You notice when it all started?”

Joey thought back but couldn’t really pinpoint when Rob had started being quite so angry. A few years back he had gotten really defiant about mom pretending he was a girl but it had only been recent that the kid had started pulling these stupid and sometimes dangerous pranks.

“Well, I noticed,” Frank spoke up when Joey didn’t have an answer. “It started when he was passed over for that bit in the school play.”

Blinking, Joey nodded after a moment in agreement. That could have been about the time.

Frank poured him a much smaller glass of juice, handing it over. When Joey went to take the glass, Frank didn’t let go, meeting his brother’s eyes steadily. “The play you prep’d him for like two weeks straight. Where he kept making doe eyes at you until you were wrapped around his finger.”

Huffing in annoyance, Joey rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, he’s a good kid. Annoying at times but he’s—”

“Joey, he’s in love with you,” Frank interrupted curtly. “Head over fucking heels. Absolutely, completely smitten with you.”

Nostrils flaring, Joey put more pressure into his grip until Frank relented the glass. He drank it down like a shot, trying to ignore the way the cold liquid felt like lead in his gut, heat rising over his skin in an anxious wave. “That’s crazy,” he finally said after the silence had stretched on too long, his voice gruff.

Frank was unaffected, looking completely at ease. “It’s pretty obvious. Robyn threw that hissy when you started dating that chick from the next town over. He sulked the entire time, you know, when he wasn’t spreading rumors about the three of us and hiding all our fucking shit. Dan figured it out before I did,” he added as if Dan thinking the same thing confirmed it all. “I was ready to hold the little brat out of a window by his ankles until Dan spoke up.”

“This is crazy,” Joey muttered, turning and rinsing his glass to give him something to do with his hands while his mind reeled. He glared over his shoulder, his expression full of accusation. “You’re just saying this shit to get me to agree to whatever terrible you’re about to do.”

“He loves you, Joe. He was auditioning for the role of a chick—”

“There weren’t any male roles!”

“Yet he still wanted to be in the fucking play,” Frank replied, his eyes narrowed on the way his brother’s face was flushed in anger. “Believe me, Robyn is in need of facing some facts about himself and that is not going to happen if you don’t face the fact that our little bro wants your dick. Bad.”

Glaring stonily out the small window that looked into their backyard, Joey held his tongue. There had been times, glances, sometimes hugs that had gone a little too long that had made him wonder. But that had been a while ago and he had told himself it had all been in his head.

“He doesn’t,” Joey said, sighing softly. “He really doesn’t and you’re going to freak him out if you suggest such a thing. The kid is angry enough, Frank.”

Giving his younger brother a calculating look, Frank tilted his head, indicating Joey should follow. After a moment, Joey did, dragging his feet as they walked down the hall past the bathroom, stopping in front of Rob’s room. There was a pretty pink unicorn superglued to the boy’s door covered in swipes of black sharpie. One of Dan’s jokes after Rob had deliberately erased one of his video game saves. Mom had set aside a room just for the girl she had always wanted. Instead, her Robyn had been born a Rob and the woman had still insisted her youngest get a room of his own. It used to be all pink until Rob had finally put his foot down a few years back.

Frank pushed the door open, stalking immediately to Rob’s backpack. The room was painted a mellow sage green, no remnants of the soft pink and white lace curtains their mother had inadvertently tormented her son with in view.

Maybe it had been all their faults. Just, Rob had never really seemed to mind. He used to like his pink clothes, used to like getting to wear socks with fun patterns and do twirls to show off his latest dress. It was really easy to forget that their little sister was a boy, especially when it was just so easy to make Robyn cry.

“Come on, Frank, don’t go through his stuff…” Joey trailed off, Frank pulling out the empty bag of sugar from Rob’s pack. Gnawing on his lip, Joey didn’t say anything when Frank turned the bag over, searching for whatever evidence he was determined to find. He looked around the room again, taking in the posters on the wall Rob had started putting up. Most were of girls in elaborate, funky clothes from school girl outfits combined with combat boots and crazy, sparkling pigtails to a wall dedicated to leather, gothed out vamp girls. They had a subtle sexuality to them, very subtle when compared to some of the posters Frank kept on his side of their shared room. Rob was young in a lot of ways still, Joey reminded of it at every turn.

Grunting, Frank continued his search, finding what he was looking for deep in the pages of Rob’s math book.

Joey sighed heavily when Frank held up the photo that had been carefully hidden away, his own face staring back in a quiet, easy-smiling pose. Fuck.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

A Mate Of His Own #1

HEAT: Abducted To Be His Mate
Exclusive Library
Ryan Moss is a werewolf long separated from his pack. He has no idea how dangerous his heat is until he finds himself stalking down the closest available bachelor. Unfortunately for Ryan, his wolf finds Shane Cooper, the gay bashing, angry, rich punk that’s been tormenting him for the last ten years.

Even though Ryan hates Shane, his wolf won’t be denied. Against all sanity, he bites the blond and drags him home to mate.

Bound and trapped in Ryan’s basement, Shane plots his escape. He has no interest in being anyone’s mate, especially to his long time rival. If only his body would stop betraying him, seeking out first touch and then pain, things Ryan knows how to gift just right.

Ryan discovers that underneath his lust and resentment, he might just love his angry mate. But after what he’s done, can Shane ever forgive him enough to see him as worthy?

This short story of over 23,000 words contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Although featuring mating/breeding with werewolf anatomy that knots and ties, there is no mpreg.

23,000+ wrds, Published June 3, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT HEAT

on July 2, 2016
Best! Abduction! Ever!
Reader beware, this is downright dirty and oh so hot. The writer puts you smack in the middle of that basement and holds you down until the very end.
on May 16, 2017
For a long time I have been searching for a book like this one and almost gave up hope, thinking it too taboo of a subject. I’m beyond ecstatic to have found this book and will probably read again before the year is out!
on June 26, 2016
That was steam. I love the dirty talk. This was a great domain book. You get to understand how freeing the sub feels and know his mental issues. Take out that and still hot read. I will definitely b looking at more books from this author.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ryan Moss had just stepped in the door and already regretted coming to school. He could feel the heat coming over him, each wave stronger than the last and threatening to cascade into a fever he wasn’t sure he could contain. He had to, he had exams and classes and needed to keep his fucking shit together. It was just getting surprisingly difficult.

He hadn’t actually expected to actually feel hot but, fuck, he was seriously sweating. His backpack felt attached to his flesh, his thin t-shirt nothing more than a second skin at this point. He had jogged to school like he always did, the morning air a cool contrast to the exercise, but his body wasn’t responding right. He had gotten there in half the time, his first class not starting for another twenty minutes. The muscles of his strong, tanned, six-foot-seven-inch frame were bulging and currently drenched with moisture, his dark bangs dripping into his pale eyes covered by sunglasses. He didn’t dare take the lenses off; his normally deep blue eyes had turned nearly white, his pupils a pinprick and reflecting the torment of his inner wolf.

Fuck, he was feeling really hot. Horny. Had he mentioned horny? Crazy, hot, and horny. He was about ready to hump the library book drop-off slot, he was feeling so crazy. Damn Mr. Menson and his fucking calculus exam.

His older brother Will had warned him, had told him how it hadn’t mattered how determined and focused he was, there was no fighting the heat. But Will wasn’t like him. Will belonged in the woods with the rest of their family while Ryan passed with the humans. No one had pegged him for a werewolf the last twenty years of his life and if he could just make it through this week, he was damn sure he could make it through a lifetime pretending to be two-legged and furless with an actual fucking career.

Being the first werewolf to graduate in his family probably would have been a bigger deal if his family gave a fuck. They didn’t. Ryan was a bit of the laughingstock with his wild relatives who were more than happy to dance under the moon after howling and hunting their dinner first. Not that he had anything against being a wolf. But times were changing—Fuck, they were already so changed that the pack was facing extinction. His family was screwing around in the woods instead of learning how to defend their land from the encroaching companies looking to mine through land and animal alike for dwindling fossil fuels.

Maybe it was unrealistic to hope his wild cousins would skin up and lawyer up after a lifetime of rooting around in the forest. Maybe he was a total tool for thinking he could fix what they had failed to even attempt. Well, besides the murdering. The pack had gotten damn good at killing the poor innocents that trespassed on their land for drilling. It was a problem, one Ryan was hoping to eventually solve no matter how dismissive his family got about him leaving the pack.

And fuck, now he was hard.

What part of needing to become the smartest fucking werewolf out there and get into law was getting him hard?

Growling to himself, Ryan pulled at his shirt, the soaked material stubbornly sticking to his skin even though he was in the air-conditioned hallway that led to his class. It did nothing helpful, his nerve endings tingling from the simple feel of fabric against his flesh, his nipples peaking, cock twitching. His calculus class was right after his first-period history class with Mr. Edwards. He just needed to get through the stupid exam and he could go home and masturbate until he was raw.

This thought hot in the forefront of his mind, Ryan forced himself to walk towards his next class, trying to ignore the way his skin was tingling, his muscles puffed up too large, stature too aggressive and intimidating. He knew he was acting more wolf than man that day and he was having a hard time curbing the beast. It was horny—unbearably horny—and the damn thing kept fixating, staring at every person that dared close, scenting, seeking. Thank fuck the place was nearly deserted. Showing up early had one good advantage. God, he needed sex. Preferably with a drop dead sexy guy with strong thighs and hard abs. Someone strong enough to handle the marathon of fucking his wolf was up for. It would be a marathon. A week at least, if he found a sexy enough body he could convince to spread for him.

“Mr. Cooper, I was clear with you. Take it up with the Administration board if you think you’re being treated unfairly. I don’t care. Just get the hell out of my class.”

“Bullshit! Do you even know how much money my parents donate to this shit joke of a school? I need to pass this course!”

Ryan rolled his eyes as Shane Cooper’s privileged, snobby ass voice reached his super sensitive hearing through the door that led to his first class of the day. Shane and him had gone to grade school together, giving Ryan many a year to hate the obnoxious bully. Shane thought he was better than everyone. More so, that he deserved to be better than everyone just because the kid’s parents were richer than fuck. Ryan had spent the better part of his education finding himself in competition with the rich snob. Not because he was trying to compete with the kid but because Shane hated anyone smarter than him. Ryan was happy to say he was fucking smarter. He was stronger, faster, and had all intentions of beating Shane Cooper at anything the annoying fucker challenged him at. Seeing the blond’s face flushed with anger every time he beat him only made it sweeter.

Professor Edwards seemed even less impressed with Shane’s parents if Ryan guessed by the man’s next words. “I have warned you numerous times what would happen if you continued to be late for my class, Mr. Cooper. If you can’t be bothered to show up on time, I can’t be bothered to teach you.”

Ryan could see where this was going, two other students already kicked out of their history class since the semester started. Shane apparently could too, his tone changing to one of pleading. “I told you, I have swimming practice. I get here as soon as humanly possible and—”

“It is not my fault that you didn’t plan your schedule better. Perhaps dropping my class would be a boon to you.”

“Damn it, please, Professor. I need this class. Can we work something out? I’m sure you could use a little help towards retirement and I’m always happy to donate to education.”

“Fucktard,” Ryan sighed. He counted silently to himself, giving his professor enough credit for not actually slugging the annoying brat.

“Mr. Cooper, I will give you a week to allow you to reconsider your stance on this particular topic.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I mean I will be informing the Dean of this conversation. If you are seen on school property during the next week, you will be permanently expelled. The next time you arrive for my class in a week’s time you can either be on time or expect to be removed from it. Now leave.”

The door to the class snapped open, Ryan stepping back before Shane could storm into him. The tall blond stopped short on seeing him, his angry scowl only growing. “Get the fuck out of my way, faggot.”

Ryan refused, too busy staring at the angry boy. Shane Cooper was the absolute bane of his existence but today his wolf was at the surface and the animal didn’t seem to give a fuck about that. No, it was too busy howling at the way Shane’s broad shoulders stretched his stupid preppy shirt and his designer jeans clung to his hips and tight, muscular ass. Damn, he could fuck that. Hell, he wouldn’t even have to bag the kid—Shane was hot all around except for his ugly-ass mouth with the stupid shit he was always saying. His dirty blond hair was kept short and spiky, making his nearly black eyes look even more intense when the kid glared at him. All he’d have to do is gag the annoying punk and then he could happily fuck him senseless. Shane would look good in a gag. In a gag and absolutely nothing else.

Closing his eyes, Ryan took a steadying breath and tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have come in today. He had to be fucked in the head to ever think of Shane Cooper as fuckable. He hated Shane. Absolutely hated him.

There had been a time when Shane had been taller than him. The blond had taken huge amounts of joy in it even though Ryan had always been able to outrun the annoying fucker. Now Ryan’s bicep was nearly thicker than Shane’s head. Even though he was well aware of it, the blond who was half a head shorter than him seemed oblivious as he snarled and went to push past him.

Shane hit him square in the chest but Ryan didn’t budge, a soft growl rising up from the brunette as he caught a whiff of the boy’s scent. Holy fuck, yeah, he could totally hit that. Not only did he look like sex, the kid smelled like it too. Ryan’s wolf gave another inner howl, heat rushing over his skin like wildfire.

“I said, get the fuck out of my way, you fudge packing, panty wearing fairy!” Shane went to shove him but Ryan was faster. He grabbed the blond’s wrist, ignoring the hiss it was met with when he squeezed too tight. Shane might have thought he was tough shit, but against a werewolf, the boy’s perfect swimmer’s body might as well have been ornamental. With an angry snarl, Shane went to punch him with his free hand, Ryan easily catching that one as well and pinning it in his larger palm.

Looking into the boy’s dark, wide eyes, Ryan did everything he could to fight the beast inside him that was demanding he push Shane Cooper against the wall, tear his tight jeans down, and fuck him raw.

“Moss, get the fuck off me.”

There was a new tightness to the blond’s voice, something that broke through the hazy heat trying to steal Ryan’s mind completely. Shane was not a werewolf. Fuck, he wasn’t even a potential mate—The kid was an angry, gay hating, rich punk that couldn’t face the real world without his parents’ money to fix all his fuck ups.

God, but he smelled so fucking good. Looked so fucking tight and hard and fucking hot. The stupid fucker could get in his face and talk shit all he liked, just as long as he kept smelling like that. Fuck, he wanted to rape him. Just a little. Just until the blond was begging. He could make Shane beg. He could make him beg like a good bitch. Or just cripple the annoying fucker and do whatever the fuck he wanted to him.

Fuck, he was turning into a total psycho. Ryan dropped Shane’s hands before he could convince himself otherwise, turning and taking two large strides away, his breath loud in his ears. The heat was only getting stronger and the annoying little punk just smelled so good to him. Bullshit—Fucking bullshit. He hated Shane.

“What the fuck is your problem, Moss?” Shane snapped, rubbing his wrist, a red mark threatening to turn purple where the brunette had grabbed him. “Choke on the wrong side of the dick today?”

God, he fucking hated him. Ryan started down the hall, not caring if he missed his history class and failed his calculus exam. He needed to get the fuck out before he did something stupid and potentially dangerous. He should have listened to his brother. Should have never tried to fight his wolf nature and just hid away in the woods until the heat left him. Fuck, he could still smell the annoying fucker!

Ryan whirled, Shane right behind him, the blond’s expression twisted in a wicked smirk suggesting he was about to make another rude, smart-ass remark. “Get the fuck away from me, Cooper.”

“Like fuck, you faggot freak. I think you sprained my wrist. I’m totally going to sue your pansy ass for assault.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryan tried to take a steadying breath. It might have worked on a normal day but today his vision was full of a throbbing red that had never been there before, his blood pounding loud in his ears, muscles tense with restrained force. Every inhale only surrounded him with more of the strange, enticing scent of the blond before him, and it was everything he could do to keep his hands at his sides.

“I’m going to take you for everything you own, Moss. All twenty-five dollars and seventeen cents.”

Asshole. The motherfucking asshole. He went to turn away, growling when he felt Shane move, the blond rushing forward to shove him. Snapping around, he grabbed Shane by the collar, slamming him hard against the wall of lockers no one ever used but the college insisted on having.

“Shit,” Shane hissed, grabbing uselessly at the large hand effortlessly holding him in place. He stilled when Ryan pulled his sunglasses free, nearly white, inhuman eyes staring back at him. “What the fuck?”

“You really don’t want to mess with me right now,” Ryan said, his voice a low, husky growl, strange pale eyes burning into Shane’s. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, inhaling deeply of the blond’s scent and listening to Shane’s breath hitch in surprise. Sexy. So fucking angry and sexy. The things he would do to this kid. Nasty, degrading things and it would be so easy.

“Be good for me, Cooper,” Ryan murmured, letting his lips press to the boy’s jaw for a fleeting second, his dick throbbing from the light contact. “Be good and shut that sexy mouth of yours for one damn minute so I can get the fuck out of here.” He let the blond go abruptly, immediately regretting it as he took a step away, his piercing gaze pinning Shane in place. Fuck, it would be so easy. Shane was weak and he was strong. His wolf knew what that meant. The creature understood all too well what happened to weak things that crossed their path. They were used. Broken. Devoured in all the many ways one could devour a hot, tasty morsel like Shane Cooper.

Daring him on, he flashed the blond a condescending smile, Shane’s eyes widening when he caught sight of Ryan’s elongated fangs. He watched uncertainty flicker on the blond’s face, quickly replaced by hot embarrassment and anger as Shane pushed himself off the wall of lockers and took a stalking step towards him. It felt like slow motion to Ryan’s enhanced wolf senses when the blond pulled his arm back, winding up to punch him like the hotheaded, tasty bitch he was.

Grinning fiercely, Ryan grabbed the boy by the bicep, spun him with a rough wrench, and slammed him chest first against the lockers, pinning him with his chest and hips. Before he could fully understand what he was doing, Ryan’s fangs slid deep into the juncture where Shane’s neck met his shoulder, hot, tangy blood flowing onto his tongue in a gush. Fuck, yeah.

Shane gave a pained howl, his face going pale, body tensing then going limp from the sudden, overwhelming pain. Ryan barely noticed, his senses filled with the scent of the boy’s flesh and sweat, the taste of his perfect blood and feel of his hard body against his. Groaning lowly, he rocked his hips forward, rubbing his aching erection against the strong globes of the blond’s ass, humping him in rough, erratic thrusts while gripping Shane’s hip painfully tight. He came with a grunt, his fangs slicing deeper and flooding more blood, a growl ripping through him as he slammed the boy’s limp body forward and ground his orgasm against Shane’s tight cheeks.

His. Fuck, Shane Cooper was his.

 

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Demon Bonded : Episode #7

The Chains That Bind
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Episode #7. An impossible choice…

Liem betrays Ky after he’s welcomed into his home, and its revealed Brave was brutalized as punishment for his failure of the night before. The difficult reality of sorcery hits Ky; defense is not enough when up against someone with magic.

Ky knows Brave is in danger while in the hands of a childish sociopath like Liem, but he can’t cross the line only days ago he never would have considered. Murder is wrong, but so is allowing Liem to kill Brave.

Ky can’t ask his demons to kill, and he doesn’t have the power to fight Liem on his own. His hesitation could be just as damning as reckless action, but it’s Brave’s life that will be lost if Ky makes the wrong choice.

Each episode in this sexy, suspenseful gay monster harem serial is over 10,000 words, and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.
12,000+ wrds, First Published May 1, 2016.
Heat level: X

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DEMON BONDED #7

on August 15, 2016
on March 21, 2017
on August 13, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ky’s heart raced as he surged forward. He was terrified Liem would magic Magnificent Night away in an instant. When he slammed into Liem’s petite form with all intentions of beating the crap out of him, it took him too long to see the coil of black whip up. Liem might have gotten a collar around Magnificent’s neck, but the demon wrapped his tail around Liem’s just as quickly.

“Magnificent.” Ky froze and stared with wide, silver eyes as Magnificent lifted Liem off the chair with his tail and held him tight by the neck. Lovely appeared next to Ky, and behind him he heard Feral on the stairs blocking escape. The room grew dark at the edges the longer Ky stared. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Liem’s red face as it quickly turned purple, the teen’s expression twisted in terror and pain.

This was his fault; Ky knew it. If Magnificent killed Liem, it was his fault. Ky failed to protect the requiem; he failed to keep a monster like Liem away from the three Relics in his care. If Magnificent killed the awful apprentice, Ky wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself. He let Liem in the house. He ignored every fucking intelligent reason to turn him away and because of it, Magnificent was forced to defend his life.

“Magnificent, please.” Ky walked past Liem, who was clawing at the tail wrapped like a coil of black rope around his neck. Magnificent Night’s eyes glowed power while he glared into Liem’s frightened face and raised him higher. Liem’s legs flailed in the air while choked gasps escaped his lips. His whimpers silenced when Magnificent gripped tighter. Ky didn’t know what he felt at the idea of Liem dying. He did know what was right and what was wrong; this was wrong.

“Magnificent, I’m going to take him away. Right now. Just let him go, and I’ll take him out of the house and never let him in again.”

Ky waited the longest minute of his life. Did he truly know Magnificent Night? Ky couldn’t speak his language; they came from two completely different worlds. All Ky really knew about Magnificent was Anselm captured him, and when he died the overseer Demencious chained him. For years, Magnificent was trapped in this basement while other Relics were murdered and eaten in front of him. It would be easy for him to be a monster after such a life, maybe even expected. Demons were powerful and killing came easy for them. Chained and weakened, Magnificent was still far stronger than Liem. The apprentice was a frail, helpless child compared to a Requiem.

“Please, Magnificent,” Ky whispered beseechingly. He reached his hand out to caress the demon’s grim expression. He should have been afraid; Ky knew he was an absolute idiot when it came to the Relics. Still, he had to try. He couldn’t bear if his fuck up led to Magnificent having to take a life. “You don’t need to kill anyone. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you needed to. Please, let me fix this.”

The furious glow in Magnificent’s eyes faded as his gaze moved to Ky’s upturned face. Ky sighed in relief when the demon uncoiled his tail from around Liem’s neck. Liem fell to the ground and collapsed, gasping for air.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Ky’s voice cracked with the flood of emotion moving through him. He tore the collar from Magnificent’s neck and flung it across the room. He wasn’t sure where to direct his rage; Liem who came into his house and tried to capture Magnificent Night like he was a bug in a jar, or himself, who was so dumb he trusted the awful teen enough to let him in the house in the first place. God, he was fucking it all up. He just met his first sorcerer apprentice and nearly let the asshole die.

Although, given how Liem tried to kill him just last night, Ky wasn’t about to spill any tears over it.

“Ky!” Lovely hissed. Ky whirled from Magnificent to discover Brave. The wolf demon appeared in the basement when summoned by the fallen Liem. Brave growled and hovered protectively over his young master as he pulled him across the room away from danger. The two demons glared at each other warily, Lovely a bristling white glow of long, silvery hair, cat ears and claws while Brave was hulking, scarred muscle and dark whirl of hair. Brave snarled and snapped razor teeth when Lovely stepped menacingly toward him.

“Stop,” Ky ordered roughly. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore; he just wanted it all to fucking stop. Brave was injured; blood crusted his handsome face, and the flesh beneath his collar was raw, red, and oozing yellow fluid that dripped over the fresh bruises and cuts on his body. It was his punishment for being linked to Ky; there could be no other reason.

Ky’s stomach plummeted as he remembered his conversation with Lovely about the link. Nausea was a hot wave that threatened to overwhelm him. Liem punished Brave for something he hadn’t even done. Ky created the link with his will, not Brave. His ignorance and inability to control his magic directly led to Brave being harmed.

Liem unsteadily pushed up on his knees. His eyes shined bitter tears as he pointed accusingly at Ky. “Fido, kill! Now!”

Lovely hissed warningly, but it was Feral’s growl, loud and full of death, that froze everyone in the room. The bronze-skinned coyote demon slinked from the shadows. With deliberate steps he crossed the room and took an aggressive stance in Ky’s defense.

Liem gaped up at the new black feathered demon. Hatred twisted his features as he whirled back to Ky. “Three? You have three fucking archons? Two of the things aren’t even collared, and they just answer to you!”

“They’re not things,” Ky replied hollowly. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood on Brave’s face. The wolf demon’s ear was torn, not from a blade but from something dull. A piercing pulled from his flesh. This morning, Liem rang his doorbell and pretended to apologize while only minutes before he brutalized and tortured this poor Relic. How could he have ever been so blind?

Liem scrambled to his feet. He held his palm upright, and a wand immediately appeared within his grasp. “Fuck. Three winged demons belong to that weak, stupid, demon loving freak! Fido, I said kill the stupid fuck! And so help me, if you fail this time, you better fucking die because I’m going to make you wish it!”

Brave didn’t move. His lips pursed in a thin line as he met Liem’s furious glare with one of cold indifference. Lovely went to stand between Ky and the wolf demon, but Ky stopped him.

“Brave’s not going to hurt me. He doesn’t want to hurt me, so he won’t.” Brave’s intentions radiated through the black link on his collar. His connection to Ky wasn’t as deep as Lovely’s, but they were still linked. Brave didn’t want to hurt him, and Ky could feel it.

“Fucking, son of a… His name is Fido! Fido!” Liem gritted out. “He’s mine, not yours, you fucking weirdo, and he has to do what I say!” Liem’s breath was heavy with rage as he shot a burst of magic at Brave. The wolf demon yelped and fell backward from the blow. “Now fucking listen to me!”

The room pulsed red around Ky. He didn’t even know he moved. One moment he heard Brave cry out in pain and the next he was across the room. His hand throbbed in aftershock from where he slapped Liem across the face. “Grow the fuck up!”

Liem clutched his burning cheek and stared at Ky in shock. His wand was limp in his hand. “Y-You…”

“That’s not the way to do things!” Ky shouted. “You’re just some stupid, spoiled child with too much power who can’t see demons are people. They’re not fucking toys. They don’t exist to do what you want. They’re people!”

Ky’s outrage grew until he was gasping for breath between words. Liem continued to stare at him dumbfounded; it was too much. “You never should have been bonded to someone as beautiful as Brave. All you’ve done is hurt a being who would have been grateful to have someone understand him in this new world. You chose to hurt him. You treated him worse than someone would treat the lowest of the low.” Ky tripped over his words but kept going, unable to slow from his fast, clipped pace as he shoved Liem back. “You don’t deserve Brave, and if I knew how to free him from you, I would! You’re a fucking monster! He has fangs and a tail and wings, and you’re the fucking monster, you horrible brat!”

For an instant, it looked like something got through to Liem; there was a flash of understanding and regret deep in his blue eyes. Liem’s expression immediately contorted, and the moment was gone. Red flushed his face and his voice shook with anger. “You don’t understand anything!” Liem hissed. “You dare strike me? I will find a way to get that Requiem for myself. Demons are weak and weak things deserve to be used. You’re the weakest fucking sorcerer ever and you deserve to be broken just like these pathetic creatures!”

Ky pulled his fist back; he’d show the stupid punk just how weak he really was. Liem wasn’t looking for a beating. He grabbed Brave roughly by the arm, and with a muttered spell they both blinked out of the room. All Liem left behind was an echo of his angry laugh and Ky shaking in fury.

Ky looked around sharply. He met Lovely’s gaze when the room proved to be empty of the sorcerer and his wolf demon. “Are they in the shadows?”

Lovely shook his head. “They’re gone; it was a teleportation spell. The apprentice would have to be an imbecile to face the three of us, especially when his bonded demon refused to follow orders.”

Ky nodded mutely as his eyes were drawn to the spot he last saw Liem and Brave. His anger was brittle. Something inside cracked and snapped until he realized he was fighting back tears. “Is he… Is he going to kill Brave?” he forced out through his tight throat.

Lovely crossed his arms over his chest. His shrug was full of indifference when he met Feral’s knowing gaze. “Anselm killed demons, but he had many at the time. It is unlikely a child sorcerer would kill the only bonded demon he has.”

Yeah, but Liem wasn’t a sane person. Ky didn’t want to believe he’d do something so terrible, that anyone would. A day ago he couldn’t imagine a person out there cruel enough to harm someone as beautiful as a Relic. Liem Kane, a classmate younger than Ky, seemed ready to murder a demon just to spite him.

All of this was his fault. Ky never should have black linked with Brave. If only he didn’t say those things, if he hadn’t hit Liem and pissed him off. If he never let Liem into his house in the first place…

Fuck. Dear fuck, should he have let Lovely kill Liem yesterday when he asked?

Ky’s stomach lurched and he fought to keep his balance. Would it have been the right choice now he knew what Liem was plotting? Was he going to come back in the middle of the night to steal the Relics? Maybe he’d kill Ky first, just to get him out of the way. Liem was ready to kill him yesterday; why would that have changed? His parents; would Liem kill his magicless parents just because they were there?

The alarming questions piled in Ky’s mind without any answers. He had no idea what he could do to protect the Relics or his family. Everything he did only seemed to fuck things up more. Brave might already be dead because of him. What was he supposed to do?

Ky’s fingers bit into his palm as he shook with unshed tears. Useless. All he did was cry and fuck things up while others were hurt. Lovely reached for him, but Ky shrugged away with a low sob.

“This is my fault. I got him angry and linked—I don’t even know how I’m linking to them!” Ky yelled suddenly, his eyes wild and glittering. He waved his hands in a wide gesture at Magnificent, Lovely, and Feral. “I’m going to get us all killed. Brave is going to die, and it’s all my fucking fault.”

Ky gasped and stumbled sharply when he was tugged sideways. He hit a solid form and blinked up into Magnificent Night’s fathomless, hauntingly blue eyes. Magnificent’s tail loosened from Ky’s wrist and soothed at the tear sliding a thin path down his cheek. Ky sobbed and crumpled forward, his shoulders hunched inward as he leaned against the demon for support.

“I can’t even get you out of the chains… c-can’t get you home.” Ky couldn’t bear the weight on his chest. He wanted to curl tight, twist into a ball until he disappeared. He went to step away; having the Relics see him like this, so weak and pathetic with every failure, was intolerable. Magnificent wouldn’t let him go. His tail twined around Ky’s chest and he pulled him tight against his body. Ky struggled, but soon found each teardrop lost in Magnificent’s long, dark hair soothed him a little. He wrapped his arms around the demon’s waist, and with is face buried against Magnificent’s neck, Ky mumbled a stream of heartfelt, tearful apologies.

Lovely cleared his throat, and Ky glanced up while sniffling. The cat demon kept his distance, his blue and violet eyes wary as he observed the two of them wrapped together. “It would be wise to collar Seriphous now, if only to prevent the apprentice from breaking in and doing so while we sleep.”

A feeling of dread hit Ky in the pit of his stomach. Liem would come back for Magnificent. Maybe for all of them. What it took to protect the demons… Ky shook his head weakly. “It’s not right. Magnificent’s been chained here for years, fed off of by the overseer. I’m not going to take his freedom away while he’s chained to the fucking ceiling. He can’t choose, and it’s not right.”

Ky regretted bonding with Lovely in that moment. He regretted every black link he collected. Each one was a life endangered by his ignorance. The only thing he was good for was feeding the demons so they didn’t starve.

More tears spilled when Ky pulled from Magnificent and reached for Lovely’s hand. Lovely readily moved to hold him but Ky didn’t want another hug. He pulled Lovely’s claw down his wrist and blood flowed scarlet on his pale flesh.

“Ky?” Lovely tried to read his eyes but Ky wouldn’t look at him.

“He’s hungry,” Ky whispered. He raised his bleeding wrist up to Magnificent’s lips. “He wouldn’t have wanted to kill Liem if he wasn’t so hungry.”

Lovely’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ky feed Magnificent his blood. “We’re not human, sweet boy. We kill things. People. We fight to survive with all the power we have. It is our way and that way involves killing.”

“It was my fault.” Ky was unhearing. He leaned against Magnificent’s chest while the requiem lapped long strokes over his narrow wrist. Heat trickled through Ky. The sensation grew when Magnificent Night’s eyes burned into his, his lips tight on his flesh to suck more fluid free. Brave liked his blood too, Ky remembered in a haze. His eyelids were heavy as he gazed up into Magnificent’s intense features.

Lovely exchanged a glance with Feral, their expressions closed off. “Be careful. We don’t need to feed daily unless injured, and Seriphous is very strong,” Lovely cautioned. “Some are stronger than others, sweetling. Dangerous. Without a collar, he might unintentionally hurt you. You’re still human, and you need to remember to protect yourself.”

Ky’s legs trembled and his face flushed with heat. He pressed into Magnificent’s dark cascade of silky hair and breathed in unsteadily. “He would never hurt me.” Ky doubted too many times already. There were so many opportunities for Magnificent to hurt him if he wanted, but he never did. He wanted to hurt Liem; he could have snapped the apprentice’s neck with a simple flick of his tail the same way he destroyed the bolt cutters. Magnificent wasn’t going to hurt him, and guilt squeezed at his heart when Ky realized how many times he questioned otherwise.

Ky lost a breath when his head was forced up, and his neck stretched tall. He reached, expecting to find Magnificent’s tail around his throat, but there was nothing, just the sorcerer collar. It felt different, stiffer, and as his fingers slid over the smooth fabric, Ky found more slots where links could fit. He met Lovely’s concerned gaze for an instant before he looked away and buried his face back into Magnificent’s hair.

It was only more magic. Ky was able to fuck things up even when he wasn’t doing a thing.

Lovely’s fingers clenched into fists as he watched Ky curled inward and away even more. He wanted to pull his delicate master close, but he didn’t dare get within reach of Seriphous. The Relic was too powerful to underestimate, chained or not.

Feral grabbed Lovely by the bicep and pulled him toward the stairs. He willfully ignored all of Lovely’s quiet insistences to stay with Ky.

 

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Demon Bonded : Episode #3

The Killer Wardrobe
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Episode #3. When furniture attacks…

Ky’s tumble into the wardrobe leads to a heartbreaking discovery; Lovely either has a boyfriend, or a really possessive demon stalker. Either way, the wardrobe fiend is ready to slash Ky a new one until Lovely gets the brute under control the only way the sexy catboy knows how.

Ky grows more concerned about what’s going on in his new house, from creatures hiding in the dark to the persistent scent of blood and rot. He ends up in the basement again as he tries to feed the murderous monster he’s certain is chained up in the darkness.

Lovely wants Ky to name him with collar in hand, but the magic is far stronger than first thought. Ky hears the truth about what happened to Anselm. If they don’t hurry, no one left in the big mansion is going to survive.

Each episode in this sexy, suspenseful gay monster harem serial is over 10,000 words, and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.
10,000+ wrds, First Published January 15, 2016.
Heat Level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DEMON BONDED #3

on July 3, 2016
on March 20, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition
on January 26, 2017
Format: Kindle Edition
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Ky, who was supposed to have only stepped into his wardrobe, was naked, lost and surrounded by absolute darkness. His nose filled with dust. He sneezed and immediately smacked his head into his hand. “Ow.” For some reason he was certain he was in the attic. He didn’t have a way to confirm it with everything dark and impossible to see, but something about the smell and dust made him think of the place and the hole where all of Anselm’s sorcery equipment was hidden.

Ky really didn’t have a moment to think. Something soft and fluffy rubbed against his bare leg in the utter darkness. He grabbed for it, careful not to yank when he recognized Lovely’s tail. The catboy gave another angry hiss, and Ky quickly reached out and found a mess of limbs, claws, hot flesh and heaving breath. Without thinking, he grasped tight and pulled.

It really wasn’t the smartest idea. With a crash, Ky fell backward. Two solid, muscular bodies toppled on top of him and they all clattered out of the wardrobe door and onto his bedroom floor with a thud. The light was blinding to Ky’s addled senses as all the air knocked out of him. Red pain throbbed where he slammed against the hardwood and where the other two then crashed into him. He groaned weakly. His face was full of silky white hair, and he was pinned by bare flesh at every angle. Aches and dull throbbing pain ran through his body as he struggled to breathe. Damn, he was seriously starting to hate his wardrobe.

Ky tried to keep the room from spinning as his head gave a stubborn flare of pain where it hit the floor. Lovely continued to struggle with his attacker. His ears were folded back on his head and he hissed loudly as he slashed claws behind him. As he fought, Lovely pushed himself off of Ky to keep from crushing his fallen form.

Ky watched in a haze and wondered just what a concussion felt like. Maybe he fell out of bed and was dreaming the entire thing. Surely it would make more sense than having the pale, beautiful Lovely fight claw to claw with a golden, punkish looking ruffian who was snarling fangs while he pushed the slender catboy down to the ground and kissed him fiercely.

Ky released a weary sigh as his bruised and battered brain clicked something together.

Crap. Lovely had a boyfriend.

A jealous boyfriend who was not happy with him, or, at least, his clothes.

Maybe Lovely had a thing for people in clothing, and the feral, nude thing couldn’t compete? Ky just couldn’t catch a break. Stupid Blackstone Falls didn’t have any goddamn options for gay and gorgeous.

Ky tried to get up only to quickly dismiss the ridiculous notion as the room spun again and pain flared everywhere. No, he needed to fix this. He somehow got in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Given the two of them had no problem slashing the hell out of each other, he’d feel really bad if they did something they’d regret.

Ky rolled awkwardly to his side and tried not to groan in pain as he got onto his hands and knees. He was all skinned up; an elbow raw, one of his toes mangled on the lip of the wardrobe, not to mention the bruising everywhere.

“Please, stop fighting,” he croaked out and winced at the sound of his voice. No, he wasn’t doing well at all. “I didn’t know Lovely was spoken for, and, well…”

Wait. Why the hell was he apologizing? It wasn’t like he even had a chance to see Lovely, never mind ask if he was in a committed relationship. If anything, wasn’t Lovely just a really bad boyfriend for sleeping around with people who couldn’t see in the dark?

Ky shook the thought from his head, and grabbed his skull when it throbbed painfully in retaliation. “Hey, stop fighting!” he yelled and slammed his hand down on the floor. He was ignored. Lovely kicked the bronze skinned, muscular young man off him. Ky only had a moment to sit back with a plop as the catboy jumped up and followed after his target.

On Lovely’s back fluttered a pretty set of white wings. They were small, petite and flexed when he grabbed his tall attacker by the hair. Gold glinted from sharp ears reminiscent of a coyote. Ky just caught sight of the piercings right before Lovely twisted the furry triangles vindictively. Wardrobe guy was in serious trouble, and after what Ky went through, he didn’t feel remotely bad for him. Given the punkish hairdo of his golden blond and purple colored messy locks, as well as his eyebrow rings, the long scar which ran down half his face, and permanent snarl, the jerk was probably asking for trouble.

Wardrobe guy’s wings weren’t white like Lovely’s. They were black and feathery and made Ky wonder just what the hell both of the two creatures were. As cat-like as Lovely was, and as coyote-like as this jerk was, the wings just didn’t really make much sense.

Then again, nothing made a lot of sense lately.

What Ky first thought were just growls and snarls started to form a pattern. The two were having quite the argument in their respective language. His suspicions grew when Lovely pointed in his direction, hissed heatedly and wrenched one of the wardrobe guy’s ears. Ky flinched when the other’s gaze met his; his eyes were a startling gold with pinprick pupils full of malice.

Feral. The thing was absolutely feral and totally hated him.

As if to prove his point, the muscular attacker swiftly grabbed Lovely around the waist, pushed him down to the floor and bit him on the back of his neck. Lovely gave a loud cry and tried to push back up, but the other pinned him down with his larger body.

“Leave him alone!” Ky yelped. He stumbled forward on his knees, then stopped short when Feral glared up at him and growled with his teeth still buried in Lovely’s neck. Ky gulped. He hated he was hesitating. He knew the creature could totally tear him to pieces, and given his glare, would be happy to do it.

“Ky,” Lovely gasped out. He reached a clawed hand forward. Long strands of his white hair tangled around his arm.

Ky already had his face nearly slashed off. Not only did he fall into a bottomless pit in his wardrobe, but was crushed by two fighting creatures just after getting out of bed. He’d deal with the beating the fucking wardrobe guy wanted to give him.

“Lovely, I’m right here.” With a defiant glare into Feral’s golden eyes, Ky reached for Lovely’s hand. He gasped loudly when Lovely grasped his fingers and pulled him down roughly to the floor. Ky’s chin burned as it scraped against the hardwood painfully.

“Oww,” he groaned petulantly. No, it was not a good day.

Ky’s eyes cracked open, and he came face to face with Lovely’s mismatched gaze of blue and violet. “Lovely, that totally hurt…” he trailed off when Lovely cupped him by the head to pull his face closer, and his tongue licked out to move over the wound on his chin. Ky released an unsteady breath. His body felt like a hot, melted puddle of goo as Lovely’s tongue teased up and slid over his lips, then slipped between them firmly.

Ky’s eyes fluttered shut and he pressed closer. His mouth opened eagerly as his lips sealed with Lovely’s, who curled fingers into his dark hair and kissed him deeply.

There was a fierce growl and Ky immediately snapped his eyes open. Somehow he managed to forget about Lovely’s very angry boyfriend, who was glaring down at him.

Well, he assumed his boyfriend. They fought like they damn well might be dating, and the kissing could be a sign and all. But maybe the wardrobe guy was just a jerk who thought he should be allowed to kiss Lovely, and not actually his boyfriend?

There was no way Ky could win a fight against this weird, brutish creature for Lovely’s affection. Still, if he waited until Feral went back into the wardrobe, he could get a big padlock and chain and lock the jerk in there. With that thought hot in his mind, Ky dared to meet the golden glare burning into him.

Even though he had a scar running from his eyebrow all the way down to his jaw, Feral was actually really hot. Not in an aristocratic way like Lovely, but more like a model turned street thug with his heavy eyebrows and dangerous sharp eyes. His full red lips would probably look a lot nicer if he wasn’t snarling. What the hell was the guy’s problem, seriously? Was he, like, living in the damn wardrobe?

It was difficult to concentrate no matter how mean Feral’s snarl was. Lovely’s tongue again lapped over Ky’s face and teased against his lips.

“Lovely, uh, I don’t think this is the right time for… Oh. Okay.” There was just something about Lovely and it made him really dizzy. Ky gasped softly as he was pulled closer. Claws tickled the back of his head when Lovely lapped between his lips and stroked his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Ky barely noticed the hand slam down right next to his face. Lovely did. He pulled away to grab the offending wrist, and his otherworldly eyes glowed anger directed solely at Feral.

Ky couldn’t understand the exchange of words. Even though Lovely was shorter and delicate in appearance, he looked like he was more than capable of slashing Feral into ribbons. Ky bit his lower lip as his eyes were drawn to Lovely’s razor sharp fangs and narrowed eyes. Yeah, Lovely was a badass no matter how pretty he was. It sent a flutter through Ky’s stomach; he wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling or bad.

Feral gave another low growl and turned his glare back to Ky, who tried his best not to flinch.

“Stop being so mean,” Ky muttered. His chin pointed out defiantly as he struggled to push up from the ground. “I haven’t done a damn thing to you.” Feral slammed his other hand down and Ky yelped before he could stop from cringing away. “Asshole!”

Lovely hissed again, dragged Feral down, and slammed his head tight against the floor. Ky hesitated from trying to escape, unable to take his eyes off the catboy as he effortlessly pinned Feral. Yeah, Lovely was really hot when angry. Ky bit the side of his thumb as he watched the two growl in their angry language. Lovely was really strong, his muscles long and graceful, and nude body sleek and smooth. Even his strange ears and tail were sexy; claws, fangs, wings and all. Lovely definitely wasn’t human, neither were, but wow, they were seriously sexy.

Ky wasn’t sure what changed exactly since he was unable to understand what either of them were saying. Something in the timbre of Lovely’s voice and the way Feral’s glare turned smoldering made Ky swallow hard and his face heat up. Lovely ran his tongue over Feral’s scar and purred low in his ear. With a growl, Feral twisted and pinned him again. Lovely moaned as he was pushed face first down to the floor while Feral nipped at his shoulders and neck ravenously.

He should probably go. Really. Clearly Lovely wasn’t averse to being kissed by the wardrobe creep as much as he hoped. Ky couldn’t seem to get himself to move. He bit his thumb harder as he watched Lovely gasp and arch his ass up in the air. His elegant tail wrapped around Feral’s thigh and pulled him down on top of him.

Feral had strong looking hands. They were large, rough, and when he ran them over Lovely’s pale skin, part of Ky wanted to know what they felt like. Stupid. Feral slashed his face and was an absolute menace. Just, there was something in the way he was possessive, consuming and rough in his touch that made Ky’s breath grow short and his mouth dry when he thought what it would feel like to have such attention of his own. Lovely was definitely enjoying it. He moaned lowly and kept shifting his hips to ground back against Feral’s hard dick with rocking pushes.

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #2

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Beau and Darien return, the new science teacher confused and consumed with memories of what happened only days ago. He feels drawn to his controlling student but repelled by the sheer need growing in him. He wants to be owned and protected, but also publicly disgraced and he doesn’t know how to deal with these strange, overwhelming urges.

On the outside Darien seems to have everything under control, but he’s new to the game he’s playing with his Mr. Ashford, and even more to the possessive feelings running through him. He doesn’t want to lose himself, but everything about Beau is stripping him down, making him raw and desperate to hold onto the man at all costs. Including buying him outright.

Yardstick in hand, Darien wants to mark his teacher as his own, but first he needs to know if Beau likes pain as much as he thinks the man does.

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published January 15, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on May 14, 2016
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Face pressed up tight to the dingy bathroom mirror of his small apartment, eyes slit open so he could just make out his own dazed blue orbs, Beau forced another soap lubed finger into his aching hole. Gasping loudly, he pushed it as deep as he could get, not caring that it stung, that his flesh felt so raw and sore already. He couldn’t stop. It was Friday, he had woken up after dreaming of everything Darien had done to him last Tuesday, and his entire body was crying for more.

“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, driving his two fingers in deep, gaping when his hole was stretched wider as he spread them. “Fuck, please… Please…”

He was losing his mind.

Whimpering lowly, he began thrusting in and out of his clenching passage, hissing from the feel of his fingers scraping his burning hot flesh. He couldn’t stop. Had been wanting it so bad. Needing it so much. He had tried to hold back, had tried to not be this way, but every time he was alone too long, Beau remembered. And when he remembered, he needed to feel it again. Needed to be taken. Owned. Exposed and humiliated. It was wrong, and so fucked up, and it was making him so unbearably hard.

Pulling his head off the mirror, he panted loudly, his breath bouncing back hot on his face as he took in his creamy skin flushed red, brilliant blue eyes and golden shoulder length hair. His brows were furrowed, mouth open wide, tongue tip brushing his bottom lip as he groaned. He looked like a slut. Like some sort of man whore just begging to be fucked. And he was. He was secretly begging for his muscular, young student to walk into his bathroom and replace his fingers with his own thick ones. Maybe even that big dick of his.

Slamming his fingers deeper into his hole, Beau jerked his hips against the wall, rubbing his aching dick against the cool surface. He released a weak cry, then another as his body clamped down so tight on his digits. Close. God, he was so close. Just thinking about Darien got him so hard, so ready. How the tall boy had pushed him down over his desk, fingered him in front of his students. Humiliated him. Degraded him. Got him off so fucking good.

Beau came with a cry, his cum streaking the wall in long streams as he bucked on his fingers buried deep inside him. Fuck. Fuck, he was losing it.

Panting heavily, he ran his tongue out, licking up the mirror, moaning from the smooth feel of cool glass on his hot flesh. Before he knew it he was sliding down the wall, seeking out his dripping cum, licking it off the surface while remembering how Darien had held him by his hair and forced him to lick his desk clean. Beau didn’t stop until he got every drop of his seed, and even then he couldn’t seem to pull away, lapping slow touches until his tongue was sore and his breathing had finally calmed.

***

It was Friday.

Beau had told himself to call out. He had stood in front of his bathroom mirror and told himself out loud that he was going to call out of work that day. Then he had gotten so hard he had stripped his pants off and fucked himself on his fingers. He had already come once that morning when he first woke, his dick so hard from dreams of his student that he barely touched it before he’d orgasmed.

It was crazy just how much he needed sex lately, how hot he got just thinking about Darien. It was wrong, he knew it because he wasn’t thinking about things like how nice the boy was, or how sweet he treated him. No, Beau was getting off on how possessive, rough, and brutal his controlling student was. How Darien had been able to push him up against a wall and grope him so thoroughly that he couldn’t escape, had not wanted to by the time the boy had his hands down his pants. And when he had fingered him, forcing him to bend over in front of his other students and the open classroom door, Beau had gotten so hot, so crazy he hadn’t been able to do anything but let the boy take whatever he wanted from his body.

He was in trouble. He couldn’t keep a straight head, couldn’t seem to find the moral ground that had been so solid before. To the best of his knowledge, he didn’t even like men. But he got hard for Darien. Every time the student looked at him—God, touched him. Beau wanted him to touch him. Needed him to make him feel that way again.

What he really needed was to not go to school that day. It was a prestigious college, he was the newest, youngest teacher there, and if he went into work he knew he was going to do something completely inappropriate with a young man that could have him fired in an instant. He should have been fired. After what had happened, he should have been escorted off the grounds and possibly straight into a police cruiser.

But no one had said anything. Beau hadn’t reported the three hooligans that had destroyed his classroom, and the three punks hadn’t said a word to the Dean or authorities about how he’d then gotten on his knees and sucked the dick of the student that had stopped them. He had a strong suspicion Darien Castello was to blame for that as well. Not only was the boy as aggressive as they came, but he also had a senator for a father. Whatever Darien had said to his classmates after the incident had apparently been followed.

Or so, Beau hoped. He was still waiting for the axe to drop. Three days later, he was still unsure just what the hell had happened and if he was going to be able to handle what was coming next.

He still had the bruises on his hips where Darien’s fingers had dug in, the muscular twenty-two-year-old having ground him so tight against his desk it had left marks. He still had the cuts and slashes from the angry boys that had tried to beat him into giving them a passing grade. His hole still ached, still throbbed every time he thought of how Darien had pushed him over his desk and fingered him roughly until he came. All while claiming his teacher belonged to him.

“Fuck,” Beau groaned, hitting the brakes abruptly as the car in front of him stopped. He was hard again. He kept getting hard every time he thought about what had happened. Especially when he heard Darien still in his ear, whispering that he was a nasty, bad slut—his bad teacher, and he needed to be treated like it.

Beau didn’t think he was a bad teacher, not the way Darien had said it. Not really. In his early thirties, he’d only had a short string of respectable, if not extremely tepid relationships, all of them with women willing to overlook his feminine good looks with his silky blond hair, bright blue eyes, and slender form. He had never thought of himself as gay. He had certainly never thought to look at a student in any way that was inappropriate, male or female. But then, he had never met a young man like Darien Castello before.

Tall, black hair streaked with red, green eyes and pure muscular confidence, Darien was everything Beau had hated when he was in college. Mostly because Darien was the type of boy that liked to bully him. Now an established teacher, that had not changed. Even though Darien had been very interested in getting Beau off, he had also done it while extorting his teacher for money with the promise he’d hurt him if he didn’t pay up. And if money wasn’t available, Darien would be more than happy to take it out of his flesh with a good fucking.

His breath speeding up, Beau licked his lips, trying to will his erection away. He could still call out. He could turn the car around, call from his cellphone and pretend to be sick. Sure it was hardly a month into the term but it was just one day. One day to keep from doing something extremely stupid.

What that stupid thing was, he wasn’t a hundred percent certain. He had the money. Darien had said he’d accept $50 a week to protect him from the sort of punks that would destroy his classroom and beat him bloody… But only if Beau offered something else in trade. Something sexual. $450 worth of sexual.

Beau had never thought to hire a prostitute, the idea too off-putting and crass. Now he wished he knew someone who had, only so he could get an idea of just what $450 would get with a person like that. Because when Darien’s eyes burned over him, he was pretty sure the young man saw him the same way most men looked at a hooker. Someone with a price that once reached would give them anything and everything.

Except Beau was the one paying Darien. To protect him. Maybe… maybe to look at him the way the boy kept doing. Maybe even to touch him, if he could face that thought as well. Maybe to make him do the many dirty, messed up things Darien wanted to do to him and a secret, naughty part of Beau desired to do. Like suck the boy’s thick cock as thanks for beating up his attackers.

“Go home,” Beau whispered, biting his lip and staring down the street where he could just make out the clock tower of the college administrative building. “Call out sick, and go home.” He ran his hand down the front of his pants, hissing softly as he pressed against his hard erection.

He had managed to not be fired for the incident. He had managed to not have his name dragged through the papers in some huge scandal over his cocky, handsome extortionist of a student. He wouldn’t be so lucky this time. It was tempting fate. Tempting the little good left in him.

Would you like that, Mr. Ashford? Do you want everyone to know you belong to me? Do you want to belong to me?

Darien’s voice again taunting in his ear, Beau took the turn into the college gates, driving to the faculty parking lot. He kept his mind blank, kept his expression flat, his mouth grim. It was just a day like any other day. Just a Friday. Just the day he decided if he was going to let Darien Castello bully him back onto his knees, maybe over his desk again, and give the boy everything he wanted.

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #1

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Beau Ashford has again found himself the victim of bullying. Surprising, considering he’s an established teacher now. His pretty face and weak demeanor has made him the target of every aggressive glare that turns his way, this time his own privileged students.

Darien Castello—strong, confident and son of a billionaire senator—is willing to protect his pretty teach, but for a price. Either he gets paid $500 a week for his protection services, or he’s going to help make Beau regret starting his new science position in the wealthy university. If Beau can’t afford it all, Darien is happy to take it out in trade. $450 worth of his teacher’s body.

What starts as a bizarre protection scam quickly spirals into something else as Darien awakens dark, confusing desires in his once straight-laced teacher. Can Beau find a way to free himself from the strange obsession taking him, or will he be bullied into something that could lose him his job and life as he knows it?

18+ This serial contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, violence, and themes of bondage, discipline, and some humiliation. Each episode is over 10,000 words long and should be read in order to be enjoyed fully.

10,000+ wrds, Published January 15, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Mitya rated it really liked it

Excellent, filthy smut read with surprisingly sweet, cute touches. A+ erotica
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Darien Castello could not take his eyes off of Mr. Ashford. The guy had the face of a model; a really naughty one that wanted so badly to be pushed down and messed up. Damn, he had never really gotten off on just a face, but with his soft blond locks, bright blue eyes, and pouting red lips, Darien was totally hooked on his new teacher. Unfortunately, so were his classmates.

Mr. Ashford looked like prey, plain and simple. He was average height, slender, and had a way to his shoulders and walk that just screamed ‘jump me.’ Currently Tony and Radford were doing just that. They had cornered the new science teacher by the lockers and looked ready to start punching and maybe even stuffing if they didn’t get some cash off the cutie.

Darien took his time, dragging on his cigarette as he approached. No one had noticed him yet, which was fine by him. He wanted to take the opportunity to look at Mr. Ashford up close. The guy was hot. Really fucking hot. Pale skin, golden hair, and damn those lips. The nasty things he would do to those lips. Radford better not punch the man’s face or he’d have to beat the fuck out of him for ruining perfection.

“What’s going on, guys?” Darien casually slung his arms over Tony and Radford’s shoulders. Both of his classmates immediately froze. Darien was top dog for a reason. He was the tallest kid in school, the strongest, and when the mood struck him, the meanest motherfucker there was. Everyone knew. The ones that didn’t, figured it fast. Mr. Ashford would be getting that privilege soon enough.

“Fuck, hey Darien,” Tony said hesitantly. He glanced sideways at the tall brunette who had crept up behind them. When his eyes fell on Darien’s bicep right next to his face—the flesh hard and tattooed—he swallowed. “We were just having a chat with the new teacher. Nothing to get involved in.”

Darien’s gaze traveled over the blushing teacher who was currently glaring holes at the three students as he tried to straighten his rumpled shirt. Darien took his cigarette from his mouth. “Ah, well that’s where you’re wrong. I happen to have Mr. Ashford for fourth period. And if you’re messing him up, well, that’s going to mess up my grade.” Darien fixed on Tony again. “You wouldn’t want me to fail, would you?”

Radford immediately took a step back and ducked from his heavy arm. “Right, so I’m getting the fuck out. Sorry ’bout that, Mr. Ashford.”

Darien smirked at the incredulous expression on the man’s face when Radford apologized. “Um, don’t think anything of it,” Beau mumbled as he straightening his tie.

“What about you, Tony?” Darien asked, his voice full of implication.

Starting, Tony winced. “Hey, I got the message loud and clear. You wanna be teacher’s pet? By all means.” He went to duck away, but Darien grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled Tony sideways while he hissed.

“Wallet.”

Glaring, Tony reached into his back pocket and slammed the leather into Darien’s hand. Flipping it open, Darien raised his brow at his ever watching teacher. “This all of it?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” Beau answered, expression full of surprise and gratitude.

Damn, he had amazing eyes. Sexy, wide, glowing blue eyes. Not bothering to look at Tony, Darien shoved the punk aside and listened to him huff away. He used the time to study his new teacher, one he hadn’t met until that moment. That was definitely going to change.

Darien let his gaze move from Beau’s handsome face, sturdy shoulders, and down his lithe body still trembling in aftershock. Sexy. Sexy, and sleek, and in desperate need of a very hard fucking.

There was no way he was letting things end here.

“You’re Darien Castello?” Voice quiet, Beau combed shaking fingers through his shoulder length locks. His gaze had strayed to where the other two had dissapeared, as if just waiting for them to turn around and come at him.

“That would be me, teach.” Tilting his head, Darien offered the man a drag on his cigarette. When Mr. Ashford shook his head, Darien finished it off, then dropped it to the hallway floor. He crushed it carelessly with his heel.

“You really shouldn’t…” Mr. Ashford’s eyes widened when Darien pushed him back and blocked him in with his taller, stronger form.

“You saw how easy that was for me, right teach? I just showed up, and those losers walked away.”

“Y-Yes, I was meaning to thank you.”

Darien smirked. The guy had the cutest fucking stutter too. “You might want to hold off on that.”

He opened up the wallet again, pulled out the cash and counted it while Mr. Ashford watched him with growing trepidation. “I’m going to take this… $300, and you’re going to bring me another $200 by Friday.”

“I am?” Mr. Ashford’s eyes narrowed even as his voice broke.

“It’s a good deal.” Cash now free of the wallet, Darien slowly snaked his hand around until he found his teacher’s back pocket. Ducking closer, he slowly pushed his hand into the man’s pants, watching intently as Mr. Ashford blushed and refused to meet his eyes.

Yeah, the guy was smoking hot and definitely interested. What it would take to get him to admit that interest, Darien was looking forward to figuring out.

He left the wallet but not before stealing a small squeeze of that tight, firm ass. “You pay me $500 a week, and I’ll make sure guys like that don’t mess up your pretty face.”

“You’re out of your mind—Ah.” His eyes closed as Darien’s arm suddenly pressed across his throat and he fell silent, head forced back against the locker.

“Mr. Ashford, it would be really easy for me to hurt you. And believe me, I wouldn’t feel bad about it in the slightest.” No, Darien would love every moment of covering this hot man with as many bruises as he could handle. Moving his head so that he was pressing his mouth to his ear, he added softly, “But if you’re a good boy and you do as I say, I’ll take care of you. No one will hurt you as long as I’m here to protect you.” Mr. Ashford gave the slightest of tremors and Darien fought back a smile. “It’s not a free service, teach. If you don’t want to pay me in cash, I might be willing to accept a trade.”

He slowly pulled a lock of Mr. Ashford’s hair aside, letting the silky strands run through his fingers. “I can think of a lot of things a sexy guy like you could do for me, teach.” His eyes locked with stunning blue, Darien pushed a thumb against those damn enticing red lips and smirked when Mr. Ashford gasped and turned his head away.

“Think about it. Next Friday once school gets out. Your room.” He pulled away, eyes lingering on the man’s lithe form. Mr. Ashford’s face was flushed with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and shame. It was sexy as hell, and Darien could think of a million ways to make him look like that all the time—starting with forcing him to his knees.

Fuck, it was his teacher’s fault for having such a damn sexy face. He might as well be begging for it.

Darien walked away whistling, hands folded behind his head. Breathing heavily, Mr. Ashford leaned weakly on the wall and watched him go.

 

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Wounded Hearts Book #1

Drunk, Blind, Stupid Cupid
Exclusive Library
An angel, a demon and a love-wary teenager walk into a cemetery…

Aiden Fisher hates Valentine’s Day with a passion saved only for holidays and annoying public displays of affection. He’s spent his teenage life trying to be as unapproachable as possible even if his cute face has heads turning. This Valentine’s Day he finds he’s failed his goal; a secret admirer wants to meet him.

Aiden has a lot of reasons to avoid love at all costs, many he can’t seem to remember when he’s approached by two foreign, beautiful boys that say they’re destined to meet. He tries to avoid the alarming feelings welling up, but when they’re attacked and he brings his new friends home, there’s nowhere to run.

Trying to hide as much of his embarrassing home life as he can from these quirky winged boys, Aiden finds himself faced with a choice. Does he wants to suffer in love or suffer alone?

Disclaimer: This slightly dark, sweet novella contains explicit m/m sexual content between multiple partners, graphic language, first time experiences, and hot winged boys and a pretty punked out bottom in a committed threesome relationship. Made specifically for Valentine’s Day, beware of sappiness, sarcasm, angst, and plot. All sexually active characters are 18+.

33,000+ wrds, Published February 12, 2016.
Heat level: XX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DRUNK, BLIND, STUPID CUPID

on March 16, 2017

Sadie again writes a beautiful erotic story. Human Aiden loathes valentine’s day. When he gets a rose and a request to meet, he’s furious. He goes, but only to tell the giver off. When he gets there, 2 stunningly beautiful boys are waiting. The halfie Damien to translate and the angel Gavril. But Aiden is not gay, or is he, he seems to be the last to know. Craziness goes down and he takes them home and into his heart. Is this relationship even a good idea? Yet, I could not put it down until it was done

on April 11, 2017
This book was very interesting, I tend to read books without reading the back of it so I never know what it’s about. And man did I get a shock when first they were gay and second how believable the story was. What 18 year old loner whose never shown an interest in dating because of his jacked up home life loves Valentine’s Day? All in all it was a good book and my very first M/M!
on March 15, 2017
I was so deeply captivated with this sweet and scorching hot story. I loved how sappy Gav was, it was hilarious and heartwarming. Their story was just so beautiful and sensual. A breathtaking menage romance and a divine erotica.

The claiming and the fact that Gavriil was drawn to both Aiden and Damian from so far away, maybe even from another world? I just love the pull of fate and destiny type of stories.

Can’t wait to read the next book of this series.

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

It’s the last Valentine’s Day I’m going to have to endure at school. Somehow it seems to be mocking me, starting from the horrible amount of red and pink everyone’s wearing. Even the other guys are wearing the garish colors while I’ve resolutely dressed in my normal black.

I can’t stand the holidays, Valentine’s Day especially. It has nothing to do with the forgotten religious saint or the fertility festival the damn thing originally represented. No, it’s the way couples just disregard all decency and once again shove their happiness in my face. Like being single means I should automatically be miserable? Like a relationship is the end-all of being a satisfied human being? Fuck them. At least I’ve never had to listen to some girl tell me off for not calling her every hour.

I have no interest in being in a relationship. Seeing everyone acting like it’s the only thing a guy could want is really annoying as fuck.

Dropping my book bag on the floor, I take a seat for my first class of the day, trying to ignore the obnoxious amount of snuggling going around. When exactly did Valentine’s Day become an excuse to ignore all acceptable forms of public displays of affection? I might be running to the bathroom soon to vomit if this keeps up.

“Aiden, you look like someone pissed in your cereal this morning.” Ben, my best friend, sits down next to me, his hands smacking on his desk. He flashes me a toothy grin, clearly not actually caring that I hate today with a passion.

“What are you so happy about?” I finally ask when he insists on smiling at me.

“I got Vanessa a rose. I even wrote her a bitchin love poem.” His smile somehow manages to grow. “If that doesn’t get her to agree to go out with me, nothing will.”

Scowling at my terribly happy friend—Seriously, it’s Valentine’s Day; happiness is not welcome today—I pull out my math book and notebook. “What exactly do you mean by ‘bitchin love poem?’ Is this like some modern art thing?”

“Nope, even better. I wrote it myself.”

Nodding slowly, I duck my head so he can’t see me wince. “That sounds… um, bitchin.” Hideous. Seriously repulsive. God, I hate Valentine’s Day.

“Wanna read it?”

I bite my lip, knowing if he so much as shows me anything he’s written that’s supposed to convince anyone he’s in love with Vanessa, I’m going to laugh my ass off. “I’m good. For real.”

Ben smiles obliviously, his hair brushing into his eyes. “So?”

“So?” I repeat, folding my notebook open and wondering when the hell Mr. Jacobs is going to get here so the idiots will finally sit their asses down and stop making out around me.

“So, who did you get a rose for?” Ben asks, sounding even chipper than when he first sat down.

I glare at him sideways. He looks ridiculously young and happy and I sort of hate him right now. “No one. You know I don’t buy into this stupid holiday.”

“Pssh. You’re just mad because you haven’t found your ‘one’ yet,” Ben says with all the conviction of a hormonal eighteen-year-old that hasn’t had a relationship last more than three months. “When you fall in love, you’ll totally love Valentine’s Day.”

I debate whether I want to tear his love theory apart verbally to pass the time. I’m in a terrible mood, but I don’t know if I want to take him with me. He’s got that hopeful puppy-dog look he gets right before his heart is broken—This time by Vanessa, who has been looking at Ryan H. for the last month. Seeing as Ryan has a car, Ben is so outmatched. I settle for grunting noncommittally and scribbling doodles in my notebook.

There’s a commotion at the door and I sigh. Finally, the teacher is here and we can start. Except it’s not Mr. Jacobs, it’s a ridiculously cheerful girl carrying an armful of roses. I glare, realizing I’m going to have to go through the receiving, squealing, and all around vomit inducing lovey-dovey crap that comes along with girls getting flowers from secret and not so secret admirers. Fuck my life.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ben says, grabbing my arm before I can get up and go hide out in the bathroom.

“What—Why the fuck should I stay around for this shit?” I mutter but sit down. Most of the girls are swarming the doorway anyways—There’s no getting by them to escape.

“Cheer the fuck up, Aiden. It’s just Valentine’s Day. It’s not like people are going out of their way to make you unhappy.”

“Aren’t they?” I snap, pointing at the group of giggling girls. “If I never have to hear that noise again, I’d be happy.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Nothing makes you happy. Not the many holes in your head, your punk music, or even those funky combat boots. You are determined to be unhappy and you shouldn’t go blaming the rest of the world for your state of being.”

Glowering, I hunch over my desk, deciding to ignore him and the class until the stupidity dies down. Having eyebrow rings and a tattoo on the back of my neck isn’t some statement in being unhappy, it’s just a statement in being me. Ben wouldn’t understand, always wasting his time and energy trying to get with the next pretty, vapid thing he sees instead of figuring out himself.

Something flashes out of the corner of my eye, a red rose landing on my notebook. Blinking, I looked up in disbelief as Callie—super smiley cheerleader—hands me a white card. “Looks like you have a secret admirer, Aiden.”

“What?” I say dumbly, glancing sideways to find nearly everyone in the classroom suddenly looking at me.

She continues as if I hadn’t said anything, the card landing on top of my desk when I refuse to take it from her hand. “You know, you’re the first boy that’s gotten a rose this year. Usually guys send them to girls,” she says with a slightly accusing look.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Am I not good enough for a rose now? Or… is she saying a guy sent me a rose?

“Hey, just because Aiden’s a guy, doesn’t mean he can’t get a rose,” Ben speaks up before I can actually ask what she’s implying. Throwing her bleach blond hair over her shoulder, Callie gives a bored huff and just steps away to the next person on her list.

“It’s the fucking twenty-first century. Geez,” Ben mutters before pasting another huge smile on and smacking me on the back. “Well, what does it say? Who sent you the rose?”

“What?” Scratching the back of my head, I look at Ben warily. My friend of forever has been acting weird ever since he spent his summer in New York with his cousins. I’m not sure exactly what he’s got in his head all of a sudden when it comes to me, but he’s been saying a lot of stupid shit like how I don’t need a girlfriend if I don’t want one, and he’d never judge me no matter what. It’s been really getting on my nerves but I don’t know if now is the time to bring it up, especially when half the class is trying to snoop over my shoulder to read the stupid card on my desk.

Shaking my head, I flip the plain white notecard open, glancing briefly at the one line before flipping it shut and pocketing it.

“Well?” Ben asks, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Well, what?” I go back to scribbling in my notebook, pointedly ignoring him.

“What did it say?”

Sighing in annoyance, I glance his way, finding two other people looking at me just as curiously. Fuck this stupid shit. “Nothing.”

“Like fuck—They wouldn’t have given you a card if it was blank.” Ben isn’t going to let it go. Actually, he looks about ready to wrestle me to the ground so he can get the thing and read it himself. That I’m only five foot ten, and slender will not stop my taller friend. That I also fight like a crazy bastard and enjoy biting will probably keep him from trying it.

“It’s just a time and place for a meetup. No name,” I finally grunt out, looking down at my desk. “I’m sure they just got me confused with someone else. There are like seven guys named Aiden in the grade below us.”

“Aiden…” Ben just sighs, something else I choose to ignore. He can tell me till he’s blue in the face and I want to beat the fuck out of him that I’m actually a likeable guy, but I know better. I barely tolerate people and people, well, they keep their distance. I might have a cute face but with the right scowl and mean enough piercings, they back the fuck off. It’s how I like it. I don’t want people in my life—My life is difficult enough.

“When is it?” Ben asks when I relax enough to think he’s dropped the subject.

“When’s what?”

“Stop fucking with me. The meetup?”

Grunting, I pull the note from my pocket and hand it to him. He reads it, his brows furrowed as he gives me the card back. “That’s a weird place to meet someone.”

I shrug. “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are. Someone bothered to write you a card and buy you a rose. You’re fucking going—Stop being such a dick. What if they really like you?”

“Then they’re fucking dumb.” I shove the note back into my pocket, eyes falling on the rose. It’s actually kind of cool looking, the edges of the blood red petals blackened like they’ve been burnt. I reach out, letting my fingers brush over a silky smooth petal. Even the thorns are tipped in black. Do they dye roses now?

I pick it up, pressing my thumb against a thorn. It certainly feels real. Ducking my head, I give it a hesitant sniff, a small smile stealing across my lips.

Fine, it’s a cool rose. Not one of those girly pink ones or I would have tossed it already. But it’s not like you can fuck up a flower. Whoever had the nerve to send me one doesn’t automatically get a meeting with me just because the rose doesn’t suck.

The pack of girls finally leaves the doorway, the sound quieting down as the last of the class trickles in. Observing the way the black edges make a spiral pattern as they wrap around the rose, I’m pulled away by the weight of someone’s stare. It’s the new kid, the foreign transfer that showed up a month ago, currently standing halfway in the room and staring at my rose like he’s never seen one before.

Gavriil Strife is a weird one. He has golden blond hair, weird violet eyes and looks like some fucking model out of a magazine. He’s tall, built, and just has this ease about him with his stylish hair and graceful walk. Every girl in the school is chasing him hardcore, his nickname being ‘the golden prince.’ Annoying enough, but he doesn’t talk, like ever. I think I might have heard him say something once when answering a teacher, and his accent was so thick, I didn’t understand a word. No one can understand him but everyone loves him. It’s bullshit.

That he’s staring at me now, those weird eyes rimmed in black piercing into mine is unsettling as fuck and I find myself biting my lip. But I refuse to back down; he’s staring, and it doesn’t matter where he’s from, it’s still rude. Then the jackass grins at me, his expression turning mischievous like he’s got some fucking secret before he looks away and crosses to his seat. He’s seriously annoying. Weird and annoying, and I’ve caught him staring at me before. Like every class we share.

“What was that about?” Ben leans over to whisper in my ear.

“Fucking weirdo,” I mutter flatly, looking again at the rose and trying to fight the urge to glance over and see if Gavriil’s still staring. Maybe he’s pissed his didn’t get a rose, seeing as he’s a total pretty boy… Hell, maybe his ex sent me the flower? Has the kid actually taken any of the swarms of girls up on a date? He doesn’t speak a word of English yet he’s in my English class. I chance a peek, violet eyes meeting mine for a moment before I look away.

Weirdo.

The idea of Gavriil dating anyone is annoying as fuck too, like the weird boy himself, and I huff and turn to another page of my notebook so I can draw myself a maze. I take small joy in adding spikes and pits filled with vipers for any wanderer to get stuck in. It’s a shit day and only promising to get worse.

***

I’ve dodged Ben’s incessant questions throughout the day about if I’m going to the stupid meetup. The only reason I’m even considering it is just because it’s on my way home. If some idiot wants to wait out in the fucking freezing cold in the middle of February after a damn snowstorm, that’s really their problem, not mine. Throwing a $5 rose in my lap doesn’t mean I’m required to freeze my ass off.

I’m actually pretty angry about the whole thing. Seriously, what stupid idiot got me a fucking rose? Who the hell thought that I’d be into some stupid romantic rendezvous on the sappiest fucking day of the year? I was embarrassed during class, everyone keeps looking at me, and the questions will not stop. If I do go, I’m probably going to do it just to tell the person off for making my Valentine’s Day even worse than normal.

Scowling into my locker, I pull my black jacket on, hunching into the heavy material. It has a few holes but layered with my sweatshirt it does the trick for the fifteen-minute walk home. Tugging my slouchy on over my shaggy dark hair, I glare sideways at Ben who is, of course, waiting for me to tell him if I’m going to meet my ‘secret admirer.’

Fuck, even the name annoys the fuck out of me.

“Well?”

“Fuck off.” I slam my locker shut, ducking around him.

“Stop being an ass, Aiden. It’s just one little meeting. Just give the guy a shot—Shit.” Ben stops short as I whirl, his hands held up defensively.

Guy? Glaring at the cringing brunette, I stomp back. “What the fuck do you know?”

“N-Nothing, it just sort of slipped…” Ben sucks at lying, especially to me. I take a quick look around the hall, way too many of my classmates staring at me. Growling, I grab Ben by his collar and haul him into the empty science room.

“Tell me. Now.”

“Really, it’s nothing. A guess…” Ben coughs awkwardly while I stare him down. I’m not buying it and he knows it. “Fuck… Fuck, stop snarling at me.”

“Tell me, you jackass! Who is it!”

Stumbling back, he ends up sitting heavily on the teacher’s desk. I glare as he smiles at me sheepishly. “I don’t know his name. I just… I’m pretty sure it’s a guy.”

“Why?” I growl when he feels the need to stop at that fucking revelation and not explain. Why the fuck would a guy be looking at me? I’m an asshole to everyone, and I’ve never shown an interest in hooking up with anyone, especially guys.

“Well… um… Someone asked me if you’d… might be interested…”

“Oh my god—Fucking whore, Ben! Why? Why would you tell someone that I’d—Fuck.” I whirl, pacing away before I do something uncalled for, like punch the idiot. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why would he do that? Does he hate me or some shit? He’s like my only friend—Do I have to worry about him spreading fucking rumors about me liking dick or something? Fuck.

“Aiden, you have to understand. I just thought, well… Well, I just thought,” Ben finishes lamely, wincing when I turn and glare his way.

“You think I’m gay?”

Looking uncomfortable, he gives a weak shrug. “It could explain a few things.”

And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? “Like what?” I growl, my hands on my hips as I wait expectantly for whatever stupid is going to come out of his mouth. There is nothing remotely gay about me. Fuck, if I’m anything, it’s asexual, but I hate fucking labels so I wouldn’t even say that. I have no interest in being with anyone, period.

“You don’t date,” Ben points out.

“So? You know my fucking home life. You think I want to bring anyone into that shit?”

“Bullshit,” he says, standing up and glaring back at me. “Do you think I’m blind or something? Like I can’t see when you’re checking a guy out? You spent nearly half of last class staring at Chris.”

“He was cheating off of Duley,” I snap, really not liking where this is turning. I do not check out guys.

“Was his ass cheating? Cus that’s where you were staring.”

“Are you shitting me—Did you just seriously accuse me of…?” There are no words. “Ben, I’m not gay!” I yelp in frustration.

“Whatever, jackass,” he mutters, like I’m fucking lying to him or something. “I’m not the only one who thinks it, man. Ever since Gavriil transferred in, everyone has been talking about it.”

Blinking dumbly, I hold up my hand. “What? What the fuck does that weirdo have to do with anything?”

Ben growls in exasperation. “Dude, you stare at him all the time!”

“Only because he keeps staring at me!” I turn away, my hat coming off in my hands as I grab my hair and tug. Stupid Gavriil Strife—Of course that fucker is to blame for all this. The damn pretty-boy came in here acting weird, and the second I glare at him everyone just assumes I have a thing for him because he’s gorgeous. The fucking bastard.

“Who did you tell?” I ask, spinning back to Ben. “Who fucking asked?”

Huffing, he folds his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure.”

“Like fuck you’re not—”

“I never saw the guy before. It was a couple of weeks ago during that football game you left early from.” He gives me a look and I wonder if he’s going to start accusing me of staring at their asses too. “He came up and asked if you were into guys. He had long black hair, green eyes. Tall. Really good looking.”

“Why the fuck do you feel the need to tell me he’s good looking?” I hate him so much right now. “So you just told this absolute stranger that your best friend is into guys?” I say in frustration.

“No,” he snaps back, his jaw squaring defiantly. “I told him it was a possibility. That you’re not the dating type so there was really only one way to know for sure.”

God, my life sucks so much right now. My mom is probably home drinking our fucking food money away, and here I am standing, listening to my best friend explain how I could be gay.

“Did you ever once think to ask me?” I can’t stop my angry growl. He winces and I feel a mild satisfaction that he at least feels guilty. It’s extremely mild.

“Aiden, I watched you eat half a raw potato before you realized it wasn’t an apple.”

“So—What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“So, you’re fucking oblivious, man. If I was going to ask someone about you, I’d ask me first because, fuck, I know you better than you know you.”

Scoffing, I glance away. “No, you don’t.”

“Oh yeah? Favorite food—Cheeseburger with extra pickles, but on a grill because you like the burn but still pink in the middle. You’re two homework assignments away from failing Mr. Pincer’s class. You spent all of yesterday with a pink barrette in your hair because you didn’t notice I put a fucking barrette in your hair. Dude, you’re a fucking space case,” he says with a wave of his hands.

I pause at that, remembering vaguely something pulling on my hair yesterday when I took my hat off. Fuck. “Pink? You jackass.”

“Do you even know how many people check you out?” he continues sternly. “Like every fucking day? I have chicks asking all the time if you’re, like, not allowed to date or something. I see guys looking at you all the time, and hell, I’m as straight as they come, but even I can admit you’re totally sexy, man.”

I splutter, glaring at him while my tongue refuses to work. I am not sexy. I am angry and unapproachable, and that is how I want to be.

“Aiden, go meet the fucking guy. For once in your life stop wandering around aimlessly after cleaning up your parents’ mess, and just live a second for yourself. People want to get to know you, so give them a fucking chance already.”

It probably would have been more poignant if my best friend wasn’t trying to send me off because he thinks I like dick. As it is, I’m just more annoyed that there are at least two people on the planet determined to make this day as fucking miserable as possible.

“I’ll go,” I finally growl, glaring him down as he beams in reply. “But only to tell this guy that you were mistaken. Bad enough he’s so retarded he thinks I’m dating material to begin with.” Seriously, you’d have to be a fucking idiot to think I was worth hanging around for any amount of time. I’m pretty sure Ben’s an idiot, and he’s well aware of my opinion on the matter.

“Seriously, dude, if it’s the guy from the game, he’s hot. I’d never do you wrong like that.”

I shake my head. There are really no words for how dumb he is today. Fucking Valentine’s Day.

“Did Vanessa like her rose?” I grunt out, feeling spiteful. Ben gives a heartfelt, woeful sigh. Answer enough. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot and now I have to go let some really confused gay guy down on Valentine’s Day. Fuck my life.

 

Wonder what happens next? With a paid membership you can read it all!

I’ll Tell

A Blackmailing Stepbrother Romance
Exclusive Library
“Do you think I won’t tell?”

Jayce Flint, perfect stepbrother and all around nice guy is losing his mind. His once sweet, hero worshipping little brother has turned into a manipulative terror. One that has no problem using his hot body and pretty face to get everything he wants even from him.

Declan Rainer’s hiding a dark secret. He was the perfect son until his father finally married, leaving Declan all alone in a strange town and new house with a very muscular, overprotective stepbrother. He’s tired of playing nice, and after a drunken encounter he’s ready to get what he wants, starting with blackmailing Jayce.

Can Jayce keep from getting sucked into Declan’s twisted games? Or will his own dark obsession prove far more destructive for the both of them?

18+ Explicit Content containing m/m sexual content of pseudo incest, graphic language, lots of dirty talk, a naïve manipulative gothed out bottom that wants to be used and a very rough possessive top happy to oblige, suburban youth culture of pretty white rich people problems, and some light drug/alcohol abuse. Smut heavy, plot light, all very dirty.

56,000+ wrds, Published January 23, 2016.
Heat level: XX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT I’LL TELL

Fiona Lyle rated it it was amazing

First time reading this author and holy shit I want more. Yes the story is taboo but it is also god damn hot as hell. I think I could easily get addicted to this author and her stories.
on December 25, 2016
Format: Paperback
Por witchy tay en 27 de marzo de 2016
Intense!!!! That is the only way to describe this book. It is so wrong in so so so many levels… From the taboo if brother- brother relationships, to the blackmailing and the more than non- existing self control or communication between the characters. Yet, all that is what keeps you reading nonstop and cursing the story IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE!!!
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

“Hey, Jayce, isn’t that your little brother?”

Glancing over Paul’s large shoulder, Jayce searched to see where his friend was tilting his head. The mall was crowded as usual, but yeah, it wasn’t hard to spot Declan. “Stepbrother,” he muttered darkly. They didn’t look alike. Jayce was tall, muscular, tanned with shaggy, sandy blond hair and dark eyes. Declan was… well, Declan.

All black hair, blue eyes, and gothed out to the gills. The kid looked like he’d been dropped in a vat of black ink. Tight black semi-transparent shirt, long black shorts, black trenchcoat, black boots, black belt, black choker and bracelets; Declan had a very obvious theme going. Even his eyeliner and nail polish were black. Everything about the kid was black except for his skin. No, his skin was so pale, Jayce swore it glowed half the time. Then there were his eyes. Blue. Crazy blue. Manic and fucked up, and it was always so hard for him to look away from his brother’s eyes. Declan was beautiful.

Jayce wanted to fuck his little brother, and it was really starting to be a problem.

“What is he, some sort of vampire now?” Paul snickered, ducking his head when Declan approached.

Jayce kept his mouth shut, trying not to stare at his sexy-ass brother. There was something fucked up in his little brother’s head. Jayce wasn’t sure what it was but ever since they’d started sharing a room, things had gotten awkward. Part of that was on Declan for being an angry freak. The other part was on Jayce for wanting to do a lot of freaky stuff to the kid. It really wasn’t cool but he was behaving, so that was something.

He kind of felt sorry for Declan. Sort of. The kid had to move to a new town, start a new school, and, oh yeah, leave his old life behind. The kids there were total asses about the goth thing. Not all of them, but enough that his little brother hadn’t made many friends yet. Maybe not any. He was a total loner.

“Hey,” Jayce greeted when Declan was in range. The brunette looked him right in the eye, coolly raised a pierced eyebrow, and then kept walking like he hadn’t said a word. Asshole. There might be a reason Declan didn’t have any friends. Jayce sure as fuck didn’t want to be his friend. Still didn’t keep him from staring at his ass as he walked away, though.

“Harsh,” Paul muttered, grinning when Jayce met his gaze. “You two still fighting?”

“I don’t think we are. Hard to fight when we barely say two words to each other.”

It hadn’t always been that way. Their parents had dated for years and he and Declan had spent all their free time together. The kid had been practically tied to his hip. Declan used to idolize him and Jayce had been thrilled to have a brother. Even if the kid was younger and insisted on being nerdy. Declan had been his best friend. Then everything had gone to shit.

Jayce wasn’t sure what had happened exactly. Their parents had gone through a rough patch and took a break. It turned out to be exactly what the two of them needed because fourteen months later his mom, Sarah, married Declan’s dad, Greg, and the Rainers had moved into his house. But something had changed during that break. Declan refused to answer any of Jayce’s texts or calls as if their parents splitting meant that they couldn’t be friends. Jayce had been preoccupied with college at the time and hadn’t really realized just how much his brother had shut him out. After the wedding, Declan moved into his room a completely different guy. Cold. Goth. Fucked up.

Sexy as sin.

The revelation that his brother was beyond hot had been extremely uncomfortable on Jayce, and not just because they were currently fighting. Declan was the kid he had protected and damn near half raised, their parents always at work and leaving them on their own. He had done his best to protect his brother from the assholes that would look at his nerdy clothes and silly books and talk down to him. Now, well, now every time he looked at his little brother in his ridiculous skin tight black clothes and girly makeup, he just wanted to push him up against the nearest sturdy surface and fuck him raw.

He was pretty sure he was going to hell, perving on his little brother. They might not have been related, but Declan was still everything to him even if he couldn’t stand whatever dumbass phase the kid was going through at the moment. Which just made it so much more messed up that he dreamed about fucking D nearly every night now.

He almost wished he had gone out of state for school instead of attending the local university. Seeing Declan acting out sucked. He had lost his brother only to gain some angry, albeit really hot punk. The kid got pissed every time Jayce even said the word goth. Declan had grown his hair out, all sleek and cut spiky, and although Jayce had managed not to say a word yet about it, D sure hated when he hid his hairbrush.

“I heard a rumor about him,” Paul said while they were walking to the food court.

“What, that he’s an ax-murder that’s escaped from an institution?” Jayce had already heard that one. The kids around there were total dicks and had shit for imagination.

Paul looked around, ducking his head so he was talking into the blond’s ear. “Nope. That he sucks cock.”

Jayce snapped his mouth shut, glaring sideways at his giant of a friend. Jesus, why would he tell him something like that? He was fucked up in the head already about D.

“Jason Henley’s, to be precise. So, is it true? You share a house with him. You probably know if he’s—”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t be that way. Vanessa is crushing on him and just wants to know if she has a shot. She thinks he’s hot, even with his girly hair and makeup.”

Another thing Jayce didn’t ever want to hear. He knew Declan was hot. He didn’t want his fucking friends thinking it about his little brother too. Jayce stopped walking, turning on Paul. “Whatever strange my stepbrother is into has nothing to do with me. Definitely nothing to do with you. Now drop it.”

“Touchy.”

Jackass. Glaring straight ahead, Jayce tried to keep his mind from running in circles. Declan was gay? For real? The kid had never talked to him about guys, or girls, for that matter. He’d never met D’s old friends—the few he’d had. For all he knew, Declan used to have a boyfriend. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell him? Declan knew he was bi. He had to know Jayce wouldn’t have anything bad to say about him if he was gay.

“How certain is this rumor?” He finally asked Paul, frustration clear in his voice. How could Declan have kept such a huge secret from him? Why would he have?

“Ah… pretty certain.” Paul suddenly grabbed Jayce’s arm, pulling him around a pillar and pointing down the line of tables ahead as they stepped into the food court. It was Declan, sitting with his book resting on the table. But he wasn’t alone. Some sleazy looking guy was hovering over his shoulder, talking in his ear. Sure enough, the guy suddenly leaned his head and gave Jayce’s little brother a kiss.

Son of a fucking bitch.

“Whoa, where the fuck are you going?” Paul grabbed the blond’s shoulder and Jayce jerked to a stop. “What, you going to go beat him up or some shit?”

Fuck yes. “It’s fucking Jason Henley,” Jayce hissed, glaring at the two of them as the loser sat his ass down across from his little brother and ran his fingers through Declan’s perfect hair. He was going to fucking kill that asshole!

“Keep it together, big bro,” Paul said in his infuriatingly reasonable tone while refusing to let Jayce go. “If Declan’s as smart as you used to say, he’ll see right through Henley’s crap. He doesn’t need you going in there embarrassing the hell out of him with your macho bullshit.”

Jayce wasn’t so sure. Declan had been messed up lately, acting out, looking for trouble. The kid wouldn’t talk to him for shit and it had been worrying him more and more. Now this. Gay with Jason Henley.

“Henley’s too old for him,” Jayce finally grunted, allowing himself to be pulled away.

“He’s our age,” Paul said with a snort. Jayce and Paul had been on the wrestling team together in high school. Paul might act like a gentle giant but under his flab was enough muscle to keep Jayce from making an ass of himself if he lost his shit.

God, if only it had been anyone other than Jason Henley.

“He’s too old. Old enough to drink. Old enough to get Declan in so much fucking trouble—And that asshole is total trouble. You know his rep.”

“You’ll only make it worse. Keep your mouth shut and let your bro make his own mistakes.”

Jayce growled but didn’t say anything else.

Shit, Henley was such a fucking loser. Like, drugged up half the time, drunk the other half, and all mean spirit. He had also already managed to flunk out of college while Declan was still in his graduating year of high school. Jayce knew it was none of his business, but hell, the idea of that asshole touching his little brother just really pissed him off. The kid could do better.

D was only one summer in Jayce’s town and had already hooked up with the biggest loser around. There really was something fucked in the kid’s head.

***

Jayce had hoped to talk to Declan once he got home later that night but D wasn’t there. Neither were his mom and stepfather, Greg. Not a huge shocker with the last two. They were both doctors at the local hospital and worked the worst hours. Jayce had foolishly expected when his mom finally got married that he’d see her more. Instead he’d been stuck with Declan, which just felt like being extra alone for all the icy distance the kid put between them. Impressive, considering all the shit he had crowded into Jayce’s room.

His mom kept promising they’d move to a larger house soon. Going from a family of two to four overnight had been intense. Declan didn’t get any say in being shoved out of his fancy mansion and into Jayce’s cozy house. The kid was probably hurting about that too—Not that D would tell him.

Jayce made himself a quick snack and then went to his room to get his homework done.

Declan was usually haunting the living room or backyard while reading his horror novels. He read scary shit; weird, dark, bloody stuff that made Jayce wonder if he might be a closet serial killer, as did the kid’s decorating sense. Half of his room was now covered in what he could only assume was vampire paraphernalia, Asian, at that. D had a lot of posters of guys with sleek spiky hair just like Declan’s dressed in elaborate coats, leather, ruffles, and lace. Oh, and they were all in makeup. It was weird. Especially when Jayce spent a day checking a few of them out, only to have Declan tell him they were men. All of them.

That might have been a big clue, now that he thought about it.

Gay. His little brother was gay. And D had never told him. It didn’t make sense. Jayce had told Declan when he was figuring out he was Bi. It had been a big deal to finally tell someone. Declan had been cool about it. Quiet, but hell, he was always quiet. But D hadn’t said shit about liking guys. Had he said something wrong? Did he somehow indicate that there could only be one sexually free brother in the house when he’d moved in? It felt like something he would remember. Fuck.

Maybe Declan knew. Maybe he knew deep inside Jayce’s messed up head he had been checking his little brother out all fucking summer and masturbating to his image. The kid had nothing to worry about. Jayce would only ever look. He knew it was wrong. D was a kid to him—even if he was angry as fuck lately. He was his brother and you just didn’t do that shit. No matter how much he really wanted to.

Jayce honestly didn’t think it was him. There was just something going on with D. Something kinda messed up. Even his bed was black. Black sheets, black bedspread, blood red satin pillows—He must have been feeling rebellious. Declan’s side of the room was covered in candles, all elaborate, drippy looking things in twisted silver holders. The kid kept dead roses in vases with incense smelling up the place. It was really starting to take over the room. Although he did like the incense; it smelled nicer than his gym clothes.

It was like D was living in a fantasy world and Jayce couldn’t figure out why he needed it. All the books, his themed room; he couldn’t imagine being so dedicated to a theme. He just had stuff. Clothes ended up in the bureau, sometimes the floor. He had a few posters, mostly of his favorite video games—And none of them matched. The bedspread was a gift from his grandmother. He could barely put the effort into matching his damn socks. Declan had a theme for his life. It was impressive and fucked up.

Jayce was done with homework and twenty minutes into a very difficult raid in his online game when Declan finally came home. And fuck his life, he wasn’t alone. The kid had finally made some friends. Three very loud, assholic friends that he immediately wanted to beat the shit out of when he realized they were lighting up in his fucking living room.

Seriously, who did that? Just walked into a stranger’s house and started smoking weed? No one had even given a fucking hello.

Jayce wasn’t shocked to discover Jason Henley sucking down a hit, his arm tight around Declan’s waist as they shared the couch. One of Henley’s friends—Jayce had seen him in the parking lot of his school and was pretty sure he was college too—was flipping through the now blaring television. Apparently being high meant also being deaf. The third was laughing about some shit while texting on his phone. Somehow he seemed the least obnoxious of the group, even though Declan was silent and sober.

Ignoring his brother, he focused in on the asshole trying to blow a smoke ring while stinking up his couch. He and Henley had gone through school together. Jayce had managed to not have to talk five words to the loser up until that moment. “Take your pot and get the fuck out of my house.” No, he wasn’t subtle. He was pissed. It was the first time Declan had brought people over and they plain sucked.

“Shit, chill the fuck out, Flint. Or is it Rainer now?”

“Flint,” Declan said in his quiet voice, looking at Jayce nonchalantly. “We kept our last names.”

“Whatever,” Henley snickered, grinning meanly. “Chill the fuck out, Flint.”

Jayce was about five seconds from punching the guy in the face. He could take him, easy. Heat racing through his body, Jayce turned to Declan. “I’m serious, D. Get them the fuck out or I will. You won’t like how I do it.”

Declan was three years younger than Jayce, nearly a head shorter, and his big brother could literally bench him. He knew it, and yet, cool as could be, grabbed the joint from Henley and took a hit. He held it between long fingers, unblinking as he looked at Jayce with his unnerving blue eyes. “Fine. There’s nothing to do in your shit house anyways.”

Motherfucking ass. Jayce waited, his arms folded over his chest to keep from swinging. Henley didn’t want to leave. Too fucking bad. By the time the three stoners were finally through the front door, Jayce was ready to start throwing shit. Namely them. He grabbed Declan before he could go, holding him by the arm while the brunette stared back defiantly.

“You want to bring people over here, that’s fine. But tell them to leave their fucking drugs at home.”

Blowing a strand of ink-black hair out of his eyes, Declan looked completely void of emotion. “Whatever. Not like it’s my house or anything.”

God, he wanted to punch the kid through the fucking wall. He had done everything to make Declan feel welcome. D just kept shutting him out.

“You have shit taste in friends. Normal people don’t get fucked up the second they walk into someone else’s house.”

“Fuck you and your normal.” Declan wrenched his arm free, slamming out the door. Jayce almost followed after, but there was really nothing to say besides a big ‘fuck you,’ and he was trying really hard not to lose his shit. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel slightly satisfied that he had managed to break through his brother’s infuriating icy facade for a moment.

God, the kid pissed him off. Worst brother ever.

Jayce might have been referring to himself. Declan had looked fucking hot. Sexy as hell.

Chapter 2

Jayce received a text around eight to inform him that his mom and Greg weren’t going to be home for the pizza he had already ordered and eaten. Also not a fucking shocker. He spent the rest of the night pissed off, playing video games and then pacing as the clock kept ticking and Declan didn’t return home.

His little brother had just met those guys. He was new to town, new to the school, new to everything, and he was letting some fucked up college stoners drive him around. Jayce couldn’t stop the paranoid fear that Declan had gotten into a car accident. Maybe he shouldn’t have let them go until they had gotten the drugs out of their system first. Fuck him if he’d inadvertently caused D’s death because he couldn’t chill over some pot. It wasn’t like it was ecstasy or meth, or even cocaine. He wasn’t tripping on acid.

God, but it had been so fucking rude. Walking into his house like no one else existed. Like it hadn’t been his home for the last ten years. He had helped his mom pick out the place. He was the one that had chosen the couch in the living room that the losers were stinking up with their smoke. Fuck.

He hoped D was alright.

Jayce knew Declan was only a few years younger than him, but he was such a fucking naïve child at times. The kid just didn’t know the world even if he got straight A’s in school. He was always reading, thinking that was the way shit happened. Like you could plan, like people made sense the way words did. The fucked up kids didn’t make sense. From everything Jayce had heard about Henley, he was a user. A user of drugs and a user of boys. And now Declan was just hanging around, not understanding that just because a guy got hard over him doesn’t mean he was in love. Guys got hard over everything; he knew firsthand.

He was going to kill Henley if he touched his little brother. Should have beaten his face in before they’d even left the house for having the nerve to put his arm around Declan in front of him. Fucking sleaze.

He was just about ready to change out of his pajamas and start driving around looking for his brother when he heard a car pull up. Voices raised in laughter flowed in through the window while Jayce looked at the clock on his phone. 2:25 am. The little fuck. The backdoor opened then shut. Hearing a small crash, Jayce quickly strode down the hall, flipping on lights as he moved.

“Hey… big bro.” Declan smiled lopsidedly from his slump on the wall. Jayce stopped cold, closing his eyes and slowly counting to ten.

For fuck sake, the kid was drunk.

He wanted to yell. He wanted to tell D how fucking stupid he was for hanging out with a bunch of fucking losers and then getting shitfaced with them. But he just bit his tongue. Saying that kind of shit would only make Declan want to do it again.

Jayce crossed the kitchen, grabbing the brunette by the shoulder and pulling him off the wall. Declan swayed, stumbling forward, snorting in laughter. “Oh shit. You’re not going to spank me, are you?”

He really fucking should. “You’re fucked up. Get your ass in bed and I’ll put some coffee on.” Jayce pushed him towards the hall. Declan nearly fell, grabbing onto the kitchen table for dear life. Fuck, he was really messed up. “How much did you drink?”

Staring down at the table, a smile slowly split Declan’s lush lips. “Not much… Couple shots.”

“Declan—Fuck!” It couldn’t have been fucking beer like a normal kid. No, he had to go get fucking hard liquor into him.

“No, it’s okay. It was all very sophis… sophis… sophisticated,” he mumbled, turning his smile Jayce’s way. Declan began to lose his balance, his eyes blinking in alarm as he tilted towards the floor. Jayce grabbed him before he could fall, steadying the brunette and pulling him into the hallway.

“You’re an idiot. What the fuck were you trying to prove to those losers? You think they’re going to like you more if you get just as fucked up as they are?” Damn it, he was nagging like some bitchy mother and he couldn’t seem to stop.

“Mmm… Maybe I want to like me more.” Reaching the bedroom, Declan nearly fell when his brother released him. Jayce directed him to his bed so when the kid’s legs finally gave he’d have something soft to land on.

“Change. I’ll be back after I put the coffee on.” Jayce left him struggling with his coat while he escaped to the kitchen and tried not to punch the wall in frustration. He should never have let D leave with those losers. Should have… What? Tied him up? Seriously, Declan did whatever the fuck he wanted. Jayce just hadn’t realized it was going to include fucking up his life.

Should he tell Greg? Was that the answer for something like this? Jayce tapped his cellphone in his pocket while he put the coffee on, his mind whirling. He didn’t know. He didn’t even know what the hell Declan’s father would do. Greg was a bit of a religious nut. He was always at the hospital, but while Jayce’s mom was there to provide a service doing something she loved, Greg looked at it like it was his calling.

Maybe he should just wait until morning. Talk to the kid when he was sober and he could feel him out to see if he was going to pull this kind of shit again. Jayce wasn’t his father. Hell, he was barely Declan’s brother. It really wasn’t his goddamn responsibility to make sure—

There was a loud crash from the bedroom. Scowling, Jayce jogged down the hall, only to find his lamp was broken. Not Declan’s lamp. No, that would have just been fair. No, the kid had knocked over his lamp with his jacket and was now on Jayce’s bed. One of his tall boots was halfway off his leg and he was staring at his feet blankly like he had forgotten what he was doing. Fuck his life.

Declan blinked up in surprise when Jayce walked into the room. “My boot broke.”

Yeah, just fucking perfect. Growling, Jayce knelt down, pulling at Declan’s boot. It wouldn’t budge and he had the horrible notion that he was going to have to unlace the godawful things. Then he found the zipper on the side. De-booted, he tapped Declan’s arms until the kid lifted them, then pulled his silky shirt up and over his head.

“Whoa, hold on,” Declan mumbled when Jayce reached for his belt. The brunette pushed himself up, trying to stand, only to stumble forward as he tripped over his boots. “Crap.”

“Stop moving,” Jayce ordered exasperatedly as he saved the boy from the ground again. It was hard enough to get him changed while trying not to look at him. Jayce refused to perv out on his little brother no matter how milky white his skin looked. “Where do you keep your pajamas?”

The question taking a moment to sink in, Declan finally pointed to the corner of the room where he kept his clothes’ hamper. Jayce took a step to leave, but Declan grabbed him, his knees wobbling unsteadily. “Wait… Dizzy,” he giggled, nearly falling again just standing still.

“Declan…” He was annoying as fuck, but D’s smile was heartwarming and made his eyes sparkle. The kid really didn’t smile much anymore. Shaking his head, Jayce tried to walk the boy over to his bed again, but the kid’s feet weren’t budging. “Come on. One foot in front of the other.”

Snickering, Declan made an attempt, managing to step on Jayce’s foot and slide down his body as he immediately fell forward.

Jayce inhaled sharply, his senses suddenly on high alert. Declan’s hands were on his hips, his face pressed into his abs, chest grinding firmly against his dick with only his thin pajama pants between them. Awkward. Especially when his brother looked up at him, his stunningly blue eyes gleaming, lush lips twisted in a smile that could only be defined as sexy. Very awkward. Getting hard awkward.

Swallowing, Jayce wrapped an arm under Declan’s shoulders and pulled him up to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his brother was shirtless and very warm. He was determined to drag the kid to his bed and get the fuck out.

Declan gasped, his eyes wide as he stumbled and fell flush against Jayce, his face tucking into the crook of the taller boy’s neck. God, if he could just get this done before it got any weirder…

And now D was licking his neck.

“You have a very… very nice neck.”

“Please don’t suck my blood. I’m very fond of it remaining in my body.” Jayce dragged him as best he could because his brother had managed to go limp while at the same time clinging to him. It would be easier to just lift him but that would involve grabbing his ass, or thighs… Nope. Not happening. He had to drag him.

Declan snickered into his throat, his breath hot and tickling as he now tried to nip Jayce. Served him right for mentioning vampires. His brother was lithe and sleek in his arms, making it difficult to get a grip. He eventually got Declan across the room and to his bed. He turned, trying to push Declan down, but the kid was wrapped around him like a leech. His teeth kept sending sparks through him Jayce was having a really difficult time not responding to.

“Declan, get off me.” Jayce gripped his shoulders, carefully prying the boy back. Declan growled in protest and grabbed his arm. Jayce froze as their hips shifted. Declan was hard. Fuck. Seriously not cool.

“Ah… Sorry, big bro,” Declan snickered softly, his face again burrowed into Jayce’s neck. “You’re just really… really hunky.” Hands moving down his older brother’s biceps, Declan squeezed hard, fingers fanning and pushing his short sleeves up. “You have the sexiest fucking shoulders I’ve ever seen.”

Right. So apparently Declan was very gay and so horny he didn’t care who he was touching. “Declan, stop grinding your dick into my thigh and get the fuck off me.”

Jayce was having a really difficult time pushing the kid away. It felt so fucking wrong to have his little brother rub up against him. Wrong because it was his brother, but extremely hot because it was Declan, and Declan was really, really hot. Especially when his wet lips kept pressing to his neck, Declan’s hands now pushing under his shirt and touching his back, pulling him closer.

Jayce was a natural, hotblooded guy that could get hard if the wind blew, and he was trying to justify that now. Declan’s hair and makeup made the kid look so different from how he’d looked growing up. He really couldn’t be expected to not think he was hot. He had eyes. But that didn’t mean it was okay to act on it. It was just really difficult to set boundaries at the moment. Declan’s dick was rubbing against his and it was intense, and dirty, and the kid really needed to get the fuck off of him before he lost his mind.

“Declan, stop… Oh fuck,” Jayce groaned, one of Declan’s arms wrapping around his waist and crashing their lower bodies together. He tried to steady himself, his little brother’s weight threatening to knock them over, but it only pulled Declan tighter against him. God, he felt good. He had been dying to touch the kid and it was so hard to keep it together now that he was in his arms.

“Shhh… It doesn’t mean anything.” Declan’s tongue licked over Jayce’s throat, silky hair tickling as he nipped his flesh. “Fuck, you’re hot. Just want to… God, I want you… Want you so much.”

He was drunk. Fucked up, likely stoned, and definitely drunk. And his hand was down the front of Jayce’s pants. “Holy fuck.”

Jayce grabbed the boy’s wrist but couldn’t bring himself to pull him away. Declan’s fingers slowly wrap around his hard cock, brushing up Jayce’s length, teasing over his head. Jayce’s eyes closed, every nerve he had focused on those fingers first taunting and now bolder, wrapping tighter and stroking. “Hell, D. You really shouldn’t be doing that.”

He should stop him. He should really, really stop him.

“That’s it, Jayce… Fuck… Tell me you like it.” Declan licked up his brother’s neck while panting, gripping his other arm around the taller boy’s back. He tried to wrap his leg around Jayce’s, the room tilting from the move. Before he knew it, Jayce was crushing Declan into the bed, the brunette moaning beneath his larger body.

Shit, he had to stop. It was his fucking brother. His naïve, vulnerable, once sweet little brother that was totally messed up.

He tried to untangle himself from Declan’s long limbs, but the brunette was all over him, his knees hooked around the blond’s waist, arms tight on his neck. “Declan, come on… You’re not thinking.” Jayce was stronger, but he was afraid he might hurt him. The kid was just really drunk and fucking confused. He’d hate himself for doing this tomorrow.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Declan gasped, then his mouth was on Jayce’s, his tongue shoving past his lips. Fuck. Oh, fuck.

There was something really fucking wrong with him when it came to his little brother.

Growling, Jayce grabbed Declan by his hair, wrapping the silky locks around his fist and pulling hard. Declan groaned, his head falling back in the harsh grip as he looked up at Jayce. His eyes were burning that crazy blue, his lids heavy, cheeks flushed, lips blood red. God, he so was sexy. Jayce wanted to fuck those lips so bad.

“Bro…” Declan whispered, his dark lashes fluttering as he panted.

Hearing the boy call him that sent a terrible stab of guilt through his chest. He was just a kid. A dumb, naïve, confused kid that had always trusted him to take care of him. But he was also beautiful. Declan had always been, even before he had started wearing all that shit on his eyes. Jayce had noticed more times than he had ever wanted to admit to himself, his sweet brother so hard to look away from.

“Don’t call me that,” Jayce growled, pulling his hair harder, watching Declan’s lips part in a low moan. Wet. His mouth was so fucking red and wet looking. Jayce pressed his thumb to his brother’s bottom lip, listening as Declan’s breath hitched. God, he shouldn’t. Really.

Eyes caught on Jayce’s, Declan licked his tongue out, moving over his knuckle. Jayce pressed harder and the brunette opened, pulling his thumb into his wet heat. Declan sucked firmly then ran his teeth lightly over the pad of his finger. A shudder running through him, Jayce pulled his thumb away, cupped his brother’s face and kissed him.

Groaning, Declan met him eagerly even when Jayce crushed his lips too hard, gripped his face too rough. He needed to taste him. Just once. Just this one time he would taste him. He plunged his tongue into Declan’s mouth, the brunette moaning, clinging weakly to his brother’s shirt, melting into him, giving in. It sparked something dark in Jayce, primitive and raw. He wanted Declan to give in to him. To stop his incessant fighting and icing him out, and just give in.

Rocking his hips down into his little brother’s, Declan’s thighs clenched Jayce’s waist, their erections grinding together. Their noises were loud and slick as Jayce kissed him relentlessly, exploring every plane, rubbing his tongue against Declan’s, biting the boy’s ripe lower lip sore and swollen. Declan didn’t resist, his reactions slow and uncoordinated the longer his brother suffocated him with every touch of his lips and thrust of his tongue.

It was so hard to hold back, so hard to not take all the many things Jayce had tried to not want from his brother. But he did want them. He had wanted them for the longest time. By the way Declan was moaning, Jayce wasn’t so sure he was alone with that crazy need.

“Jayce… Oh fuck, please. Touch me. Dreamed of you… touching me.” Gasping into the hard kiss, Declan grabbed one of Jayce’s hands, pulling it down between the crush of their bodies, knuckles scraping hot, bare flesh. He was sweating, his flat stomach slippery under Jayce’s fingertips.

He shouldn’t. It was definitely crossing the line. Fuck, kissing was bad enough. Grinding him into his stupid black bed was bad. But to touch him while he was drunk… There was no forgiving that. Jayce was supposed to protect Declan from the kind of losers that would try to do that to him, not be one.

“Please, bro… Please.” Declan pulled harder on Jayce’s hand, pushing until he had his older brother’s palm pressed against the bulge in his jean shorts.

Fuck. Oh fuck, he felt good. He was hard, and he was begging, and fuck, it was really wrong. “D, we should stop,” Jayce muttered, even as he rubbed his palm firmer, groaning as Declan bucked into his hand. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He was done thinking. Declan was whimpering soft cries as he humped his hand, and he was done trying to figure out just how wrong it was. Rolling the two of them to the side, Jayce quickly got to Declan’s belt, unclasping it and tearing through his button and fly. He pushed the boy’s shorts down his thighs, then his underwear—yup, even his fucking underwear was black—and pulled them off his brother’s long, toned legs. Fuck, he was breathtaking.

Pale everywhere. Long, slender, but still toned and strong. He was like something out of a fucking painting, perfect milky flesh and hard, flushed red cock. Jayce couldn’t stop looking at it, a question in the back of his mind of just what the hell D was on that he could be hard while so drunk. But he was. Dripping precum from his throbbing tip. God, he was beautiful.

“Jayce…”

“Quiet, D. Just lie there nice and quiet for a sec.”

Silent, Declan just watched, eyes glowing as Jayce began to move his hands over his brother’s body. Declan’s knee bent when his brother’s large palm roughly moved up his leg, his thighs spreading wide. Jayce slid his hand heatedly over the boy’s inner thigh, his smooth flesh trembling when he gave a squeeze.

He wanted D. He wasn’t supposed to, but god, he wanted him. When he kissed Declan’s nipple, the brunette gasped, and when their eyes met, his little brother looked near tears. God, he was fucking up. Fucking up, touching his brother because the kid was drunk and too fucked in the head to stop him.

“Please,” Declan whispered, his eyes caught in Jayce’s. “I’ll let you do anything. I just… I need you to touch me.”

God, he was so fucked up. Jayce could only pray Declan didn’t say that sort of thing to other guys.

“You’re drunk,” Jayce said hoarsely, trying to stop himself. The kid didn’t know what he was saying. He was just horny and drunk.

“You’re hard.”

The little fucker. Jayce ran his wide tongue over Declan’s nipple again, then pulled it into his mouth. Whimpering loudly, Declan’s fingers tangled into his shaggy hair. Jayce nipped at his slick bud and the brunette arched, and fuck, every noise his little brother made was so sexy. Jayce ran his hands down the sides of his taut body, letting his fingers dig in. When he reached Declan’s hips he held harder, sliding back to caress his ass. Damn, he had a nice ass. Tight and perky. Fucking tight.

Declan reached for his wrist again, Jayce letting him move his hand to his dick. “Please.”

He shouldn’t. Fuck, he really, really shouldn’t. Drunk. D was drunk. Don’t touch your little brother when he’s drunk. Don’t touch him at all.

He was heavy in Jayce’s palm, hot, silken flesh. When he wrapped his fingers around Declan’s shaft, the boy groaned, his hands coming up to grasp his brother’s strong biceps. He stroked Declan slowly, feeling his thickness in his palm, his ridges, wanting to memorize every perfect inch of him. When he reached his swollen cockhead, he let his thumb caress over his slit, wetting Declan with his own slick precum while the boy cried out.

God, he was sexy. He had never known just what the fuck his little brother had been hiding under all that fucking black.

“Jerk me… Fuck, please.” Declan’s hand grabbed Jayce’s wrist again, trying to get him to hurry the fuck up. If only he knew how he looked, begging like that. “Jayce, come on.”

Jayce leaned down, pressing his lips to Declan’s ear. “D, shut the fuck up and let me do my thing.” Declan groaned, biting his lower lip hard. “Okay?”

The brunette nodded, eyes meeting Jayce’s intense gaze, full of trust and need. “Do me how you want, big bro. Any way you want. Just do it.”

Jayce had to grip the bed to keep from swaying. Fuck, D really needed to stop saying shit like that. Declan didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what that fucking meant. Because Jayce wanted to be inside him, making him scream, making him sob his name. He wanted Declan to tell him he was going to be fucking good again, and nice, and talk to him like he used to. Jayce was fucked up, and Declan didn’t understand what he was saying.

Pulling his hand away, Jayce ignored his brother’s whimper of protest. He licked his palm while pushing Declan back on the bed, trapping him between his thighs. Jayce was fully dressed. It couldn’t be that bad cus he had clothes on, even if Declan was fucking nude as could be. The kid still had a few bracelets on; that had to count for something, right?

God, he was going to hell.

He was slick in his palm when Jayce wrapped around Declan’s gorgeous cock again, and his moan was fucking perfect. He watched intently as his brother’s flushed tip disappeared into his hand, only to have it reveal again as he moved down his shaft, all the way to his base, Declan’s hips rocking to meet every stroke.

“Bro, look at me.” Declan’s hand tangled in Jayce’s hair as he tried to turn his gaze to his.

Hell, the kid was going to kill him. “Stop calling me that, D.” Jayce met his eyes, his breath catching. Beautiful. He was so fucking beautiful.

Stroking faster, Jayce drank in his brother’s expression. Declan’s head fell back on the bed, his mouth wide as he panted and gasped between toe curling moans. He was dripping saliva, trickling down his chin and jaw. Beneath his broken gasps, Jayce could hear what he was doing to the boy, his hot flesh slick in his fist, slapping wet suction with every pump. Declan grabbed the sheets, fingers clawing, his back arching as he moaned again and again.

God, D. Get there. He wanted to see him come so bad. He was the sexiest fucking thing ever, and Jayce wanted to see his face when he came. For him. Just this moment. Just this one fucked up moment Declan could be his.

Crying out, Declan’s entire body shook with his orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut, muscles rock hard as he held onto the sheets. His dick kept jerking in Jayce’s hand, spurting stream after stream of seed onto his stomach. Groaning, Declan went boneless, his eyes weakly cracking back open to meet his brother’s ever watching gaze.

Jayce couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let himself think. He just needed, and needed bad.

He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Declan’s head. Watching silently as he caught his breath, Declan’s tongue drifted over his lips when Jayce climbed up his body and straddled his neck with his knees.

“Bro?”

“Quiet, D.” Jayce ran his hand over Declan’s cheek, tilting the boy’s chin back while he pushed his pajama pants down and freed his achingly hard dick. It wasn’t going to take much. Jayce was so fucking hard, and it was Declan, his beautiful kid brother beneath him, staring at his cock like he’d never seen one before, features twisted in want. His blue eyes kept shifting, moving to Jayce’s face and then to his dusky, dripping cock. Then Jayce started stroking and Declan picked his target, his tongue touching his bottom lip as he watched his older brother jerk inches away.

He wasn’t going to touch him. Just this. Jut have him watch. God, he was beautiful. His lips were fucking swollen and too red. Jayce wanted to fuck his mouth so bad, but that was beyond wrong. All of it was wrong, but that was beyond.

Fuck, would D let him?

Exhaling shakily, Jayce pressed the tip of his cock between his brother’s lips. Declan moaned, his tongue sliding out, teasing over his cockhead, probing tentatively into his slit. Fuck. Oh fuck, he really needed to stop.

“Open,” Jayce demanded hoarsely, the world rocking wildly when Declan parted his lips. He gripped the back of the brunette’s neck with his free hand and slowly pushed forward into Declan’s hot, wet mouth, those red lips contouring to his thick flesh.

God. God, he was actually fucking his mouth. Jayce’s balls were so tight, he knew he was going to come any second. He held off as long as possible. One time. Only fucking time this was ever happening, and he needed to remember.

Declan made a choking noise when Jayce’s tip hit his tonsils. But Jayce kept pushing, needing to feel his brother’s tight channel, needing to make sure Declan knew he was his.

“God… God, that’s it… Fuck, fuck take it, D… Open wide and take my cock, bro… Fuck… good boy… you’re so fucking good.” Jayce didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He was grinding the back of Declan’s throat, his fingers painful in the brunette’s sweaty hair, taking his mouth hard while his little brother whimpered beneath his thighs. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t fucking think with Declan’s mouth so hot, throat so tight, those fucking lips of his so red.

Jayce held the boy still when he pulled out, forcing Declan to feel every dirty, sticky drop of cum as he covered his beautiful face with all his jizz. D’s moans were fucking music; low, raspy, filthy. God, that was it. All over his face. Covered in him. His bro. His.

Declan had tears in his eyes as he gasped to breathe. Jayce had been too rough. Could have hurt him… Could have done a lot of things he didn’t do. Fuck. Fuck.

Jayce rolled off his brother, pulled his pants up and left. Declan called for him and he nearly turned back. Bad idea. Really bad idea. The kid was drunk, covered in cum, and damn fucking easy prey for the many things he wanted to do. Jayce forced himself to walk to the bathroom and splash his face with cold water. He needed to stop the crazy in his head, the maddening heat that had won way too much already.

Declan was asleep when Jayce got the nerve to return with a wet facecloth in hand. He was exactly how he’d left him, sprawled out nude on top of his bedspread. Jayce washed him off, admiring his porcelain flesh, brushing the bruises already starting to bloom on his hips where he had dug in too hard.

Fucked up. He had fucked up big, and he had no clue how the fuck he was going to fix it.

Maybe D wouldn’t remember? He was really drunk, saying stupid shit about dreaming. Maybe he’d just think it was a dream if he remembered anything at all.

Part of Jayce wanted Declan to remember. It wasn’t the good part of him. It was the fucked up part that wanted him to be his even though it would ruin the kid. Ruin their parents. Ruin fucking everything.

Shit, when had this happened? When had he gotten so crazy over D?

Finding Declan’s pajamas by his hamper, he slipped them on his sleeping brother. Then he arranged Declan under the covers, making sure he was warm. Jayce sat on his bed for the longest time, watching him sleep. Hating himself. Hating how he still wanted him, even then.

God, he was so fucked up.

Declan wouldn’t remember. He was drunk and wouldn’t remember.

 

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