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StepDaddy

A Stepfather/Son Novella
Exclusive Library
Ethan never expected to fall for his mother’s new love interest. He had never thought he’d ever look at a man that way at all. There’s just something about his caring but controlling stepfather that has everything upside down for the eighteen year old, his crush only getting worse the longer they share space.

Jeff has been doing everything he can to avoid his new stepson. Ethan is sweet, lonely, and absolutely beautiful. And worse, Jeff can’t help but want to protect the boy, especially when Ethan insists on dressing in provocative, hot ways. His stepson might just be trying to bait him, but for what he’s not sure.

When the two finally realize their attraction is mutual, Jeff knows he must leave to keep from crossing the line. Heartbroken, Ethan comes up with a plan. He’s just not sure it will be enough to convince his stepdaddy to stay.

18+ This novella contains explicit m/m sexual content, graphic language, and themes of bondage and discipline between adult men. Over 35,000 words long.

35,000+ wrds, Published August 27, 2016.
Heat level: X



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT STEPDADDY

This was a hot, sexy, funny yet dirty read. Ethan can’t help checking out his hot stepdad and his stepdad Jeff has been lusting after his stepson for ages. Whose going to cave into their lust first?
Ethan made me laugh when he dressed to impress, with a provocative flare, to get Jeff’s attention.

The book is written well but I wouldn’t expect any less from Sadie Sins.

This was a fun and naughty read, and also a very provocative guilty pleasure. Jeff is the sexy, hot step, dad who is trying his hardest not to give into the raging lust that he has for his step son, Ethan. Ethan feels the same way and tries many little schemes to get Jeff’s attention. The only thing that bothered me about Jeff was his constant regret when he did give in to him at times, although I don’t want to spoil anything since it was an enjoyable read. Ethan’s mother is never there and they have somewhat of an open marriage, so there’s that. 🙂 The writing, of course, was excellent (as usual) and the characters were very tantalizing. I can’t wait to read about what happens in that home next. Super titillating.

Arghh, good, so good! This was kinda tame for Sadie, with the stepfather spending most of the book being a dang upstanding and respectable man *grumbles* I really wish this book had been longer, if for no other reason than to have lots more steamy Daddy kink scenes :p I loved both characters a lot! (cont…)

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

“Damn, kid, don’t you ever go to school?”

Ethan blinked up from his phone screen as his stepfather came into the kitchen, his eyes lingering for a moment on the man’s tattooed arms. “Summer vaca,” Ethan mumbled, ducking his head back down and hiding behind his box of cereal as the man made his way to the stove top and began cooking up a late breakfast. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. Jeff didn’t talk much. The guy had moved in six months ago after a whirlwind engagement and besides hanging out in the adjoining garage painting all day, Ethan rarely saw the man outside of the occasional times Jeff would try and catch up with him.

He was kind of glad the guy was so busy. Jeff unsettled the fuck out of him.

“I’ve actually been up since dawn. Just grabbing something to eat before I get back to the canvas. Got that gallery showing in a week and I need to get some last minute touchups done before framing.”

Ethan nodded to himself, having a bite of his now soggy cereal while sneaking a peek at the man. Jeff was still in his pajamas, wearing a pair of black flannel night pants and a black wifebeater that was flecked with spots of paint. He wasn’t wearing shoes—the man rarely did while around the house. Both of his arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in tattoo’s, his tanned skin colored in elaborate, geometric patterns in blue, gold, and black ink. It was apparently inspired by one of Jeff’s own paintings. A badass painting if he was to go by the man’s bulging biceps.

Ethan’s new stepfather was a lot of eye candy. With his piercing blue eyes and brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, the guy could have been a model. He had the body for it—tall, lean, and buff—as well as the not giving a fuck attitude. Jeff always looked like he was two days late to shave, a light fuzz prickling at his jaw and neck, and he rarely dressed up beyond jeans and a t-shirt. He was also one of those health nuts, having filled their refrigerator with tons of fresh, organic produce when he moved in, his blender heard before any of the alarm clocks went off.

“You looking for a job?”

Ethan ducked his head back down, shaking it silently when the man glanced over at him from the stove. He tried to lose himself in his video game but couldn’t stop from being distracted by Jeff’s presence across the room. The thing was, Ethan didn’t like guys. He was pretty fucking sure. But it was really hard to look away from Jeff whenever the man was around. There was just something about the guy that drew his eye and kept him looking. Like his colorful biceps. Or the way the man’s thin pants clung to his sculpted ass.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Ethan just couldn’t stop getting hot whenever around his stepfather and it had been going on for months now.

“You need a job, kid. An internship. Something. You going to waste your life hanging around the fucking house all the time?”

Ethan looked up when his cereal box was suddenly taken away, watching as Jeff placed a plate with an omelet in front of him, the man nudging his bowl of cereal aside on the kitchen island to make room. “You also need to start eating some actual food. There is no way there are enough calories in that sugary shit to even get you out of your chair. I don’t know how the hell you get through your soccer games on this shit.”

Jeff was damn near intimidating when up close, the man’s face predatorial and eyes stunning as they met his. He was also bisexual, something Ethan’s mom had mentioned in passing and now he couldn’t stop thinking about. Ethan nearly dropped his phone, quickly grabbing the fork that was pushed his way to hide his tremor.

“Your mother ever teach you how to cook?” Jeff asked, cocking his hip and leaning against the island while he waited for Ethan to try the food. The hem of the man’s shirt was stretched over his hips in a way that revealed a flash of tanned abs and a sparse trail of hair leading beneath his pants. It was very distracting.

Ethan really wished the guy would look somewhere else so he could fucking breathe and stop feeling like an idiot already. He shook his head silently, finally giving in to his stepfather and scooping some food onto his fork. “Shit—I mean, this is really good. Uh, sir. T-Thank you.”

Jeff raised a brow at the stuttering boy, silently mouthing the word ‘sir’ to himself. His gaze slid down to where the blond had just nearly dropped his fork. “Well?”

Ethan jolted, looking up, the utensil now caught between his lips. “Um…?”

“Did Leah ever show you how to cook?” Jeff repeated, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips when Ethan began to flush.

“My mom’s not… She doesn’t cook,” Ethan mumbled, reaching for his phone with his other hand in the hopes of ending this absolutely alarming conversation where his stepfather looked at him and kept asking him about stuff.

“You wanna learn how?” Jeff prompted, watching as the blond boy tried to hide behind the small cell phone screen and eat another bite of food at the same time. “Seeing as you’re going to be around all day, and I do try to make it a point to eat.”

Ethan shrugged, grunting something noncommittal.

Jeff was not deterred, the man’s fingers curling around the boy’s wrist to guide his hand away from his face. When Ethan looked up, only blushing brighter now, he added, “And while I’m showing you how to cook, you can fill out some job applications.”

The man’s words sinking in, Ethan scowled, pulling his hand away to rest it on the table instead. His wrist felt like it was tingling where Jeff had touched it, an annoying distraction as he tried to state his case for not needing any job now that he had gotten his last year of high school out of the way.

“I don’t want a job. I’m starting college in a couple of months and I just want to chill for a bit before all that.”

“What, are you ancient? Decrepit? Eat your omelet.” Jeff turned away, going back to the stove and cracking more eggs into a bowl and whisking them with a fork. “You’re going to want money, right? You’re going to want to hang out with your friends. Gas cost money, kid. Concerts, food, the mall—Believe me, you’re going to want a job.”

“Really, I’m not,” Ethan muttered, glaring at his plate. He had only just started to feel the freedom of being out of school. All he wanted to do was hang out with his friends and maybe his house. “My mom will pay for all that shit.”

Jeff snorted, the trash bin rattling as he threw the eggshells into the wastebasket. “Like fuck, she will. Leah does enough without needing to pay for your lazy ass.”

“I’m not lazy,” Ethan said with a growl.

“Oh, did you pay for that $600 phone your face is always glued to? What about the nearly $100 a month it costs so that you can text your friends your every riveting thought as you have them? The motorcycle you’re driving or the insurance that allows you to do so?” Jeff turned, pointing the spatula at him when Ethan stood, the boy getting ready to escape. “What about rent? All that cardboard food you keep eating? Just where do you think the money for all that comes from? Not your schooling.”

Pursing his lips, Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lazy. I’m just a kid.”

Jeff scoffed. “Not anymore, you aren’t. I don’t get why Leah didn’t have you working through summers. It’s time to grow the fuck up and start contributing. I’m not painting every day to keep your ass in designer jeans, kid.”

Glaring, a million scathing retorts swirling in his head, Ethan opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jeff’s eyes were blazing, the man unblinking and deceptively calm as he just stared him down. “No one asked you to buy me anything,” Ethan finally muttered, unable to meet the man’s glare any longer. He liked it, though. A part of him liked that Jeff cared enough to lend him money for things. His mother was never around but Jeff was, even if the guy didn’t talk to him as much as he’d like. Ethan had never had a dad before and Jeff was the closest thing to perfect in a lot of ways when it came to things like that.

“Hm.” His eyes narrowed, Jeff turned back to the stove, flipping his omelet before it started browning. “Don’t go running off until you eat. I don’t think you’ve had more than pizza and Cheetos this entire week.”

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan sat, glaring at the man’s back. Only to have his eyes inadvertently slide down, his gaze caught on Jeff’s ass when the man leaned over to grab the salt and pepper shakers. It was a decidedly interesting ass; firm, symmetrical and muscular. He hadn’t really known that he liked muscular asses but he definitely liked Jeff’s.

“You interested in anything in particular?”

Ethan jumped, his eyes snapping up. But the brunette was only looking at the pan, poking it with his spatula. “What?”

“For work. You have anything in mind you’d like to do?”

Ugh. “Play video games,” Ethan said flippantly.

“Cute. I’m sure people just hand you money for that shit.”

“Coming from the artist,” he muttered, stabbing at his omelet. That it was about the best thing he had tasted in as long as he could remember didn’t help his mood at all. “People pay you to hang out around the house painting pictures.”

“Not exactly.” Plating his food, Jeff turned the stove top off and poured himself a glass of fresh juice before sitting across from Ethan at the kitchen island.

“People buy a product from me. Now some pay for a service if they want to hire me to paint as a demonstration, or to design a mural, tattoo, whatever. But for the most part, I create something and people buy a print or the original. That’s how I can get away with hanging around the house all day; I’m selling even when I’m asleep. That doesn’t mean I don’t have to work it for clients at galleries and meetings that get my art on walls where people can see. Renting out one of my paintings to a business requires me to do more than just paint, but it’s worth the money that comes in. Half my income this month was just on rented paintings. They’re not even new pieces but they can pay the bills if you know what you’re doing.”

Ethan really didn’t want to care just how Jeff made his money. Unfortunately, he was finding it interesting and he sighed again, daring to look up at the man. Jeff’s head was ducked, a long lock of wavy hair brushing over one of his eyes, his mouth open as he took a bite of his breakfast. The man had ridiculously lush lips, full and red. Combined with his sharp features and strong jaw, he really was just the epitome of male beauty. Ethan idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. They probably weren’t as soft as they looked. With Jeff’s bristle, it might even be prickly, a little rough.

Glancing up, Jeff caught Ethan staring at him, the boy immediately looking away. “You pick a major yet?”

Ethan shook his head weakly, hating how flustered he felt. “Mom said she was going to help.”

“Yeah, well waiting for Leah to pull herself from her work is like watching paint dry.” Jeff smiled grimly. “I can help you if you want. I’m surprisingly good at that kind of shit.”

Glancing his way a moment, Ethan shrugged. “Okay. Um, maybe tonight? Once I get back from hanging with my friends. I was thinking of something business oriented.”

He couldn’t help but wonder how quickly it had taken for Jeff to figure out just how unavailable his mother really was. It would probably still take the man a good year to realize she wasn’t going to change. And seeing as he married her, he might even stick it out longer trying to make it work. He was young still; he might think it was worth putting the effort in.

Ethan hoped he would. Not because he wanted to see Jeff break his heart but because he really liked having the man as a stepfather. Jeff was cool. Scary, but cool. Ethan had never had anyone actually care about him and even though Jeff breezed in and out most of the day between painting, the man was always saying and doing stuff that made it clear he gave a fuck. He was a calming presence. Sturdy and reliable. Ethan wasn’t used to having something like that and he’d be really pissed if his mother ruined it for him.

His mother had tried this time, he knew that much. Jeff was very different from what Leah usually dated. He was self-driven and had interests outside of just their relationship—Really important seeing as Ethan’s mother lived for her work and her last three relationships had failed because she couldn’t put enough time or energy into them. She was always at the office and when she was home, her head was at the office, planning new ideas, designing new rooms and buildings.

Leah Walde was an architect, a highly sought after one, and she had started her own firm ten years ago. Jeff had actually been commissioned to create a portrait of one of her more famous buildings and that was how they had met. That Jeff could balance his creativity with business savvy had been a good fit for Leah, even if Jeff didn’t have much interest in doing much beyond supporting himself so that he could continue his painting. It was still a step up from the last guy who had thought he was going to be some sort of jobless house husband.

“Any thoughts on what you want to learn how to cook for tonight?” Jeff asked, having a sip of his juice.

Ethan couldn’t help but stare; a droplet of moisture dripping from his stepfather’s mouth to trickle down his chin. God, what was wrong with him? He blinked, finding Jeff staring at him with a raised brow, the man waiting patiently for an answer. Ethan really didn’t have one. “Um, whatever you feel like eating, I guess.”

Grinning wickedly, Jeff put his glass down, leaning close and crooking his finger. “Careful there. I don’t think you could stomach half the things I eat, kid.”

His breath curling hot around his ear, Ethan’s breath hitched. He glanced Jeff’s way, feeling stupid as fuck when he caught the man still smiling. His eyes were sparkling at him, flashing with some hidden laughter that was making him feel hot inside. For a frozen eternity, he was certain the man was flirting with him and he had no idea how to respond.

Thankfully, Jeff seemed oblivious to his panic, the man reaching over and patting Ethan’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t make you eat anything too healthy and green. Seeing the diet you’re coming from, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm your system with anything of substance.”

“Oh.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, Ethan slowly sank back in his seat, hoping his cheeks would stop burning soon. He had a sip of his soda, his gaze inadvertently drawn to his stepfather again. “Um… So, like, when did you know you were bi?” Ethan asked daringly, his heart feeling trapped in his throat once he got the question out.

Moving in a way that seemed just a little too casual, Jeff placed his fork down. “Young. Younger than you are.” He met Ethan’s curious gaze, his head tilting slightly. “Why? Does my sexuality make you uncomfortable?”

“Jesus, only when you say it like that,” Ethan muttered, covering his face with his hand for a moment. He peeked out, combing his fingers through his short blond locks. “Just… Did you know at the same time? Or was it, like, you liked one and then realized you liked the other later?”

Considering the question a moment, Jeff finally answered after having another drink of his juice. “Both. I had at least half a dozen crushes back then and it was pretty easy for me to see that gender was not a barrier for my attraction.”

“So bi people, they all know, like, at the same time, then? Like, if you’re going to be bi, you’re definitely going to know when you start getting crushes. It doesn’t, like, change?” Ethan asked nervously, his fingers twisting at his placemat.

“I’m not sure that would be the way I’d word it,” Jeff said carefully, studying his stepson’s face while Ethan bit his lip and looked at the table. “I think attraction is based on more than just a body, and sometimes when all the right elements come together, you might just find yourself looking at someone you weren’t expecting to be looking at.”

His brows furrowing at the answer, Ethan forced himself to look the man in the eye. “I’m not talking about love or shit. I’m not saying people can’t, like, fall in love and overcome gender or what have you. I just want to know if, you know, you can suddenly be attracted to…” He trailed off, waving his hand nervously.

“Are you worried you’re going to wake up wanting to suck cock?” Jeff asked blandly.

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Scowling and beyond embarrassed, Ethan stood, more than ready to get away from this man that flustered the fuck out of him on so many different levels. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with gay people. That’s not what I was—”

“Sit your ass down, brat,” Jeff ordered quietly. “Did I say there was anything actually wrong with sucking cock?”

Ethan paused and glared at the man, his brain unfortunately now stuck on the question of if his stepfather had ever sucked cock and what that might look like. A beat later and he sat back down, his leg bouncing nervously. “I just want to know if you can, well… Like a…” He couldn’t say it and was only feeling more upset by the fact because it was Jeff he was trying to explain it to.

“Can you suddenly like someone of the same gender and still like the opposite sex as well?” Jeff supplied when Ethan seemed unable to continue on.

Pursing his lips, Ethan nodded sharply. “But more, can you just, like, suddenly like someone of the same gender. When you never did before. Not ever.”

“Not ever?” Jeff repeated, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“Not ever,” Ethan repeated sternly, daring him to call him a liar.

“Well, I’ve only ever had my own experiences to compare to, but if this has happened to someone, I’m pretty sure it’s not the end of the world.” He flashed the boy a comforting smile, placing his elbow on the table so he could lean his chin on his hand. “It’s not like this person would have to act on anything just because he felt something new. People get crushes all the time and don’t act on them.”

Ethan nodded, fairly certain Jeff had no idea just who he was crushing on by the casual air the man was giving off. “But it’s, like, normal?”

“As normal as the huge range of human sexuality can get.”

“But is it bi?” Ethan added, his expression again growing tense.

“It’s whatever that person wants it to be. A fluke. A one-time attraction… Or maybe it’s bi, and they’re just finding out.” Jeff’s smile had only grown, his eyes sparkling, and Ethan was feeling decidedly uncomfortable with just how nice the man looked with his perfectly white teeth.

“Stop smiling at me like that. I never said it was me,” he grumbled, grabbing his plate and jumping up to rinse it in the sink.

“Did I say I thought it was you?” Jeff asked, his smile now beaming. “Shit, are you going to start calling me dad now?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan snapped, grinning despite himself. “You’re lucky I call you sir.”

“Yeah, could you not do that? It’s weird—Children of the Corn weird. That would be a movie you’ve never heard of, by the way.” Jeff stood as well, stepping up behind Ethan at the sink with his empty plate in hand. “Just call me Jeff. ‘Hey you,’ if you’re feeling lazy.”

Ethan was having trouble focusing, Jeff standing far too close for him to notice anything else. God, it might be ‘normal’ but it was still really annoying to feel so fucking hot over someone. “Here, just…” He turned, taking the plate and fork from the man, nearly dropping both when their fingers brushed accidentally. Spinning back, he quickly washed them and put them in the dryer rack, his heart racing too fast in his chest. God, he hated this. Fucking hated it.

Jeff had stepped around the island and was drinking the last of his juice when Ethan finally got up the nerve to turn around. The faucet off, he crossed the kitchen to grab his phone.

“I start cooking around 6:30,” Jeff said, Ethan pausing mid-stride.

“Right. Um, I’m going to meet my friends tonight. Like, eightish.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.”

Nodding, Ethan edged to the door, slipping through with a quick backward glance. Jeff was staring back at him and for a frozen moment their eyes met, Ethan’s heart racing in response.

God, he really needed to get over this thing.

***

Son of a bitch. Bi? Was the kid bi now? Why did Ethan have to tell him he thought he might be bi? What was he trying to do to him?

Groaning inwardly, Jeff pressed both his hands on the kitchen island, leaning heavily over the countertop as he willed his erection down. One fumbling touch from the kid’s hand on his and he had gotten hard. Not good. Really not good.

Talking to Ethan had been a terrible, terrible idea. Sure, he had known he was being too antisocial and that he was worried the kid would start thinking he hated him. Leah hadn’t been around in forever, and he was pretty sure the kid had no adult supervision in his life but fuck… Fuck.

The things he would do to Ethan Walde if he hadn’t married the boy’s mother.

He was too young for him, didn’t know shit about life—And only ten minutes ago, decidedly straight. Many very good reasons Jeff had focused on whenever he found himself in the same room as the young man. But Ethan was also fucking delicious. He had soft, golden hair and wide, clear, green eyes, flawless skin and his average height was already filled out with muscle from his competitive soccer playing. That summer vacation had started and Ethan seemed content to haunt the kitchen and living room most hours of the day, half the time without a shirt on, had become a special type of hell for Jeff.

Cooking lessons? The kid needed to learn how to cook—to eat—but shit, why the fuck had he suggested cooking lessons? Knives and fire and the two of them in the somewhat cramped kitchen? Alone.

Dumb. Really fucking dumb.

He needed to get laid. That was all. He had gone into this thing with Leah with a predefined understanding that he needed sex more than she did and that she was more than happy to let him go out and get it as long as he was safe about it and he was home for the weekends to do family stuff. Of course, it had turned out that he had no problem being home on the weekends while Leah couldn’t seem to find her own house. Jeff hadn’t gotten around to checking out his options in the area. He had moved to a new town for Leah and although he was enjoying his large art studio, he hadn’t done much outside of the house besides grocery shop and jog in the morning. Something that was going to have to change if his sexy-ass stepson was hanging around all summer. And now bi.

The kid needed a job. Like yesterday.

Jeff could only hope that whatever reason Ethan had been looking at him strangely the last few weeks had to do with that conversation and would finally stop. The staring had been the icing on the shit cake of this insane situation. Ethan was probably just curious about the bi thing. More than a few guys were curious about the bi thing. It used to be the quickest way for Jeff to get a straight guy into bed—Just tell him he was bi and let him ask a million questions until he explained how much easier it was just to show than tell.

Not something he could do with Ethan. Not something he should even be fucking thinking about doing with the kid. Stepson. Young, naive, and very much off-limits for anything.

Hot, though. Really fucking hot. He had great nipples, the perfect size, pink spots just begging to be kissed, licked and then nipped sore. And his neck—he wanted to coat the boy’s long throat with his cum until it dripped down his toned torso like a pearly, dirty river. And if Ethan wanted to call him daddy while he was doing it, well, that would be more than fine with him.

“Jesus, get it the fuck together,” Jeff grunted to himself, his body lighting up with heat and his cock again hardening until it was pressed up against the side of the island.

It was time to start checking out his fucking options in the area. There was a bar within walking distance; some pool joint where he’d seen a mix of ages and sexes go in. He just needed to fuck something—preferably a hot twink that could pass for half his age so he could get this out of his system. Until then, he was going to have to settle for his hand and get the fuck back to work. He had a set of three paintings that Leah had commissioned from him for one of her older clients. It was guaranteed money and a potentially lasting connection if he got it all done in time and kissed ass well enough. That on top of his gallery opening in a week had him completely swamped. He couldn’t be wasting his time fantasizing about fucking his sexy-ass stepson.

 

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Discord-Sins-Logo
Bullying Teacher : Episode #5

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Picking up where book 4 left off, in the last installment of Bullying Teacher, Darien must find a way to break through Beau’s silence and insecurity to finally get the man to see their connection. He’s been working on his teacher for weeks but Beau just can’t seem to understand just how much he truly cares.

Darien hunts down the man that hurt his teacher but he still faces a dilemma. Frustrated with Beau’s continued refusal to reach out to him in times of need, Darien decides a proper punishment is in order, enlisting three of his very muscular, large friends to help assist in the night’s lesson.

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 April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on April 25, 2016
on December 25, 2016

Theresa rated it it was amazing

Shelves: keepers
4.5 stars Really good humiliation smut. Awesome DP scene. Syrupy sweet ending.
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Pulling a cigarette free, Darien lit it up in the hall the moment he stepped outside Beau’s classroom. His teach was trying to get some food down and he just needed to get the fuck out and breathe for a second. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something, and scream, and hunt down and destroy the fucker that had hurt his Beau. Instead, he was going to smoke for a minute then go back in and pretend he wasn’t a fucking mess inside so that the blond could feel safe.

Why the fuck hadn’t Beau called him?

He looked over to where Roland was typing on his phone, the man doing his magic with the guys back at their office to find every bit of information available on Collin Hayward. Darien hadn’t bothered to tell Beau that the business he had started when he was back in high school involved the finding of sensitive information and then the blackmailing of people that gave a fuck about if that information was shared. He had started the company with a few ex-military friends, some he had gone to school with, some who he knew from other connections. Once, he had thought he’d be using them just to find out if his father was looking to fuck with his life again. Now he had a feeling he might have to see if Roland knew how to hide a body depending on how bad the night went.

“Do you want me to call in a doctor?”

Darien shook his head sharply. “Not unless he asks for one.”

“Boss, he was practically catatonic when we got here. For all we know, his brain took a bruising from that hit to his face.”

Blowing a steady stream of smoke, Darien didn’t bother to answer. His teach could take a punch. He had seen him take worse at the hands of Blake and his bitch friends and hadn’t missed a fucking beat. No, his teach had gotten down on his knees, sucked him off like a pro, and then rode his fingers until he came. Pain was not a deterrent for the blond but an aphrodisiac. If Beau wanted a doctor, he’d ask. It was one of the many rules they had set up to make sure the blond wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Except, even with everything Darien had done, Beau had still managed to get hurt the second he was out of his sight.

Beau wouldn’t let him hire a bodyguard. It had been a huge sore spot for Darien, one that he was pretty sure was about to blow up after this. He just wanted to have a familiar guy with his teach, someone he could trust to make sure nothing went down when he couldn’t be there. But Beau thought he was being silly. The man didn’t want people thinking he was someone special or some stupid shit like that. But Beau was special. His teach was his fucking life and today had been a new kind of hell for Darien when the man hadn’t shown up for dinner.

He shouldn’t have let him leave without a bodyguard. He should have locked the man up in the fucking house and made him quit his shitty job. There was just something about Beau, something in his eyes that called to certain individuals to feed his need for pain. It made them want to hurt him, use him, and when his pretty teach was in the right headspace, Beau loved ever second of it and begged for more. But that was only when he was in that headspace and with someone that actually gave a fuck enough to figure out what he liked.

Tears. Fucking tears in those beautiful blue eyes, and not in a sexy way. No, in a fucking helpless way that wrenched Darien’s heart too painful to fathom. Beau could take a fucking punch but this thing, whatever had happened, it had hurt him in a way pain didn’t. He was doing his damndest to not imagine just how exactly that could have been.

“I gotta make some calls,” he finally said, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel and scraping it into the tile. “I want that fucker found, and I want him brought here tonight.”

“Here?” Roland looked up, pulling a second phone out while he continued typing one-handed on the first. “The school?”

Darien nodded, ignoring the questioning look his head of security was sending him. He needed to make sure that whatever had happened hadn’t fucked up his pretty teach forever. Beau had a special kind of wiring, one that demanded the right knowledge and a skilled touch. He knew the longer the problem stretched on and festered, the harder it would be to get Beau feeling like himself again. He wanted things taken care of asap. The fact that part of it involved beating the shit out of the deadman that had touched his Beau was just a total perk.

“We got him,” Roland called out before the boy could leave, pushing off the wall. “He just used his credit card in a restaurant less than twenty minutes away.”

“Danny?”

“Already on the way with Jordan. How do you want this guy brought in, boss?”

Darien considered, eying the picture Roland held up on the screen of his phone. “Keep him pretty. I want to fuck him up myself. Let me know when they get him here, but not in front of the teach.”

Roland nodded, texting as Darien spoke. “The guys dug up some more shit on him. Hayward was in a heavy scene about five years back. Used to frequent an underground club. Few regulations, lots of drugs. They were known for some pretty fucked up doms. A young man ended up dead and the place was shut down. Looks like Hayward’s aunt threw some money at some people and no one is saying shit.” He glanced up when Darien growled, fixing the boy with a look. “Hey, this is good news. With info like this, you have this guy by the balls.”

Darien just grunted, fighting back his anger and the pit of seething emotion beneath it. “You remember that kid I asked you to keep an eye on a few weeks back? Sutor’s brother, Rich? Did he ever get back to us on that thing we discussed?”

Roland nodded, already flipping through his other phone. “He seemed agreeable enough to it. Clean record. Able to listen.”

“I want him down here.” Hopefully, it would fix it.

In that moment, he felt like he was fighting fire with fire while holding onto the foolish hope the place wouldn’t burn down. But that was what Darien did. Every day he pushed forward, demanded the best from himself and everyone around him, and he prayed he wouldn’t trip and be stopped flat. Being with Beau had changed that. He had been allowed to take a beautiful soul and feed it, nurture it and give his teach everything the man could ever desire and he had felt at peace from it. Until someone had tried to take his teach away from him. Now Darien was back to trying to keep ahead of the consequences at breakneck speed while hoping he wouldn’t crash.

He had to suck it up. Push through and keep his eye on the prize along with every other cliche fucking saying that would help him get through this. Not for him but for Beau. His teach needed him strong. Darien didn’t feel strong; he felt absolutely out of control. The one man he gave a fuck about had been assaulted and he hadn’t been able to do a thing. He hadn’t even known until hours later. It didn’t matter what he did to this Hayward dick in retribution, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed Beau, that he could fail him again at any time. He could wrap the blond in fucking bubble wrap and order him to stay at his feet but Beau was going to pursue the things that brought him joy even when pain swiftly followed.

Sighing, he lit up another cigarette. He didn’t take pain as well as Beau did. He didn’t like to feel pain; he liked to push past it and let it spur him into action. Watching his pretty teach take pain was an experience unmatched by any other. The man was beautiful—strong in such a way he was never going to be, and so fucking beautiful. The man embraced the good and the bad, the pleasure and pain, and he transformed it into something beyond with his own body. Beau was fucking magic and didn’t even know it.

It didn’t matter how hard Darien pushed himself. Life wasn’t scripted and there was always something waiting in the dark to try and prey on the weak and unlucky. He could only protect his teach to the best of his ability and hope that Beau would be able to take the burden of pain when he failed. He’d be able to carry his teach through after, but he couldn’t change the fucking world that would break the man in the first place.

 

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Bullying Teacher : Episode #4

Bullying Teacher
Exclusive Library
Weeks later, now living with his wealthy student, Beau has lost himself in his relationship with Darien. Full of doubts and insecurity, not to mention a blossoming realization of his true feelings for his muscular master, things go bad in the matter of a day when a new professor arrives.

Collin Hayward has never met Beau, but he knows men just like him, or so he seems to think. Cornered and used, Beau doesn’t know if telling Darien is worth the loss of the one good thing in his life.

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 April 15, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT BULLYING TEACHER

on March 3, 2017
on December 25, 2016
on April 25, 2016
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Eyes sliding slowly around the room, Beau tried and failed to relax in the huge bathroom of marble, stainless steel and glass he was in. It was very open, very spacious and he felt both small and exposed whenever he stepped inside the luxurious but sterile room. That was helped by the fact that all the blinds on the floor to ceiling windows had been left open, the early morning light bouncing off each shining white, silver and black surface. Outside the window, an expansive green lawn could be seen, the grounds looking more like they belonged to a golf course than surrounding a person’s home. Or should he say mansion? His student called it home but Beau was fairly certain the only way to classify the building was as a mansion.

He slowly stripped his new silky pajamas off, his eyes drawn to the mirrored wall where he could see himself reflected clearly. From the angle, it looked like he was outside standing on the lush grass instead of the cool marble tile. Slender, toned and lithe, Beau’s blue eyes couldn’t tear away from the red marks wrapping around his thighs and hips in faded slashes. He was always so surprised to see the marks on his creamy flesh in the light of dawn, how they had come to be there feeling like a foggy, heated dream of the evening before. He traced over a thin red welt that ran right across his left nipple, his body jolting as he remembered how he had earned it. Darien had said he was just too pretty, that he had been begging for it so bad the last time he had shown up to class with his pretty teach. The ruler was the only way to deal with such a bad teacher.

It had been a little over two weeks since he had moved in with his student and Beau still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or seconds away from ruining his life.

Stepping around the jacuzzi tub that took up the entire length of the windowed wall, Beau set the electronic shower. The thing could turn into a sauna with a push of a button but he wasn’t the type to indulge in such extravagances. The multiheaded jets that hit him in all the right spots was far more than he was used to. The water hot and steamy, he slipped into the spray, his golden blond hair quickly drenched as he was lost in the sounds and sensations of the shower.

It didn’t matter how much the glass steamed up, Beau still felt exposed, still felt like he was being observed through the large open windows of the bathroom. He wasn’t a vain man even if he was beautiful. He had used to hate how girly he looked, how women would refuse to date him because they thought he was prettier than them. Now he prized his beauty only as much as it gained him the attention of the one person he didn’t want to look away from him. He could be beautiful for Darien. If it kept the young man holding him tight and tying him up, Beau would be as pretty as possible.

There was a camera on the other side of the glass shower wall. He wasn’t sure exactly where, but Darien had insisted when he had first showed him the bathroom, pointing vaguely in the direction. It had been a terrible problem, one Beau had found worse in the mornings when he woke hard and Darien was still asleep. He turned his back to the windowed wall where the camera was supposed to be, one of his hands lightly bracing on the shower wall while his other moved down to his crack, his fingers probing into his hot, tight flesh still sore from the evening before. Darien wouldn’t be up yet, the boy rarely rising before ten am, but Beau had classes to teach and a job to get to. He’d have to wait until after the school day was over to feel the brunette’s claiming touch and get proper relief for the ache already building inside him. It didn’t stop him from driving his fingers deep inside his entrance, bending forward while gasping and putting himself on display for Darien just in case the boy did wake and look at the footage he kept of the bathroom.

That Darien had expressly forbidden him from coming without him present to see only made him harder.

Beau bit his lip, gasping softly under the sound of water hitting his flesh and the tile. It was only the second time he was trying this, still shy since having moved into the large mansion with his student. There weren’t a lot of places where he was alone, Darien usually right next to him. The idea of the boy watching him masturbate in the shower when he wasn’t supposed to was intense for him. He wasn’t even sure if there was really a camera. He wasn’t sure if Darien even looked at it if there was and if anything could be seen past the steam. But touching himself in such an open, spacious room felt hot like anyone could just walk by and see.

He really wanted Darien to see him. Really wanted the boy to know he was thinking of him with every plunge of his fingers into his passage.

His calves straining, he spread his legs wider on the slightly coarse stone floor that kept him from slipping. He clenched around his fingers, groaning lowly only to cover his mouth. Noises still made him feel like he was crossing a line and he could only allow himself so much before he got too shy. If Darien had been there, it would have different, but alone, Beau’s courage was very limited. Not that it was courage that had him riding his own fingers and whimpering desperately under his breath with each stroke that failed to hit his prostate. No, it was a mix of need and shame and giddy anticipation of the many things Darien had already done to him and would hopefully continue to do.

There was a noise under the sounds of the shower spray, Beau stilling his movements and pressing his face against the warming tile. His lashes dripping droplets of water, he slowly thrust his fingers in and out of his tight entrance when no new sounds were heard. He wanted to pretend he was being watched, his body flushed and tingling at the very thought. Darien had a slew of nameless servants that breezed through rooms silent as could be. On more than one occasion, he had been in the middle of a session with his student only to catch a glimpse of a person watching as they stepped by the door.

Beau groaned lowly, his muscles straining as he imagined those faceless people watching him now. He came with a cry, his passage clenched painfully tight around his fingers as he shoved them as deep as they could reach. Moaning, he ran his tongue over the immaculate tile wall, wishing he had a dildo or just his very large student to take him properly.

Hell, even alone he was getting messed up. He had to wonder if it was Darien doing it to him or just the craziness inside that had been allowed to be let lose.

The shower door clicked open, Beau gasping and staring straight ahead at the shower tile as cool air rushed into the enclosed space. For a frozen eternity, he questioned who it could be because he had yet to see Darien up this early. A servant? Maybe a relative of Darien’s that was wondering who the fucked up man was masturbating in the boy’s shower?

“Bad, teach. Very fucking bad.”

Melting at the words and the boy they belonged to, Beau raised his head, peeking over his shoulder. Darien was standing in the shower doorway, his muscular chest bare and tanned, black tattoos running over his thick biceps possessively. His hair was mussed from sleep, the boy dressed hastily in a pair of low hanging jeans, the bottoms already wet from the water spraying and bouncing off the floor.

Green eyes glared at him, Beau whimpering when he met that burning stare. He was in trouble and he couldn’t wait to find out what his punishment would be.

 

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Dare

First Time Dubcon and Multi
Exclusive Library
Brendon Sullivan is sick of everyone treating him like a chick just because of his pretty face. Tonight’s the worst, Jake’s older brother and friends tricking him into a game of ‘Truth or Dare,’ where they’re determined to embarrass the hell out of him by making him suck Mitch’s fingers. Bad enough, but after his best friend Jake Coy sees, he suddenly wants Brendon to play a different game, just the two of them.

Jake doesn’t seem to care that Brendon isn’t a perv like him and has no interest in being his friend’s pseudo-girlfriend just because he hasn’t gotten laid in half a year. Which only makes things more awkward when Brendon finds his friend just so damn persuasive.

Confused as to how he became so messed up so quick, Brendon returns to the Coys’ house, Mitch and Dave there to help Jake convince his best friend into one more naughty game of ‘Dare.’

Disclaimer: This somewhat dark slice of suburban youth contains explicit sexual m/m content between multiple partners, graphic language, first time experiences, one very pretty bottom and three hot, athletic young men, and very little plot. All sexually active characters are 18+.

23,000+ wrds, Published January 2, 2016.
Heat level: XX



WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT DARE

on November 27, 2016
One of Sadie’s hottest. I bought this last year but keep coming back to it 😉 The sexuality is aggressive but also soft, in a funny way. I like her dubcon stuff the best, and find that she explores a variety of different worlds. While I have been surprised to like some of her paranormal stuff (the OTT paranormal is not my bag), I hope that she comes back to some angsty, naughty high school boy erotica before long.
on February 18, 2017
Loved it! Just the right amount of everything.
on December 6, 2016
I know some folks might not like the non-consensual nature of this book, but having another guy (and later his friends) take you like this is a great fantasy!
READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Mitch is a total pervert. Hardcore. Seriously, it’s the second time he’s dared someone to suck his fingers, and if the first time watching Jenna do it wasn’t awkward enough, now he’s looking at my lips while smirking like a total jackass. I know I have a pretty face, but fuck, I’m sick and tired of guys treating me like some fucking girl.

“You can always pick truth,” Jenna offers, looking at me sympathetically.

I can’t. There’s no way I can pick truth. Every time Mitch has gotten a truth he’s asked if the person was a virgin, and there’s no way in hell I’m admitting to that. At least Jake and Dave stepped out to get some soda. The last thing I need is my best friend seeing me sucking Mitch’s fingers like I’m some sort of slut. Bad enough Jenna and Chris are here.

“You chicken, Sullivan?” Mitch asks, his grin only growing as I glare at him. What an asshole.

“You just better have washed your hands,” I mutter, glaring at the offending digits. They look clean enough, nails short with no dirt underneath. Might have some potato chips on them, but that won’t be the end of the world. I just really wish he’d stop looking at me like I’m about to suck his dick.

“Ask Jenna; my fingers are nice and clean.”

I glance over to Jenna, who just shrugs at me. Considering how she’d been grinning the entire time she was sucking on his fingers, I have a feeling she’s too slutty to actually care. This is what I get for hanging with the college kids. They’re Dave’s friends, and Dave is Jake’s brother, so I really can’t make an ass of myself chickening out.

“And hey, if my fingers are dirty, I’m sure you can clean them off real nice,” Mitch adds casually, his brown eyes glinting wickedly from beneath his shaggy blond hair.

I’ve only just met Mitch tonight and I’m pretty sure I hate him.

I’m running out of time. Jake’s going to be back, and I really don’t want him to see this. I hold my hand out, expecting Mitch to give me his fingers so I can lick the stupid things. But the asshole just shakes his head, raising two up in front of my face.

“Open.”

I glare him down, then look over to Chris who has the stopwatch. “Not a second over three minutes. I’m not falling for that again.”

Chris just holds his hands up with an apologetic grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. Yeah, he’s an ass too.

“I think you’re stalling,” Mitch whispers, ducking his head closer to mine until he’s in my ear. “It’s just fingers, Sullivan. Not like I’m asking you to suck my cock.”

Fire rushing to my face, I grit my teeth. I totally hate him. He’s just saying that because he wants me to think about his dick while I’m doing this. The kid fucks anything on legs, guys and girls, and he’s just trying to freak me out because he knows I’m a virgin. Fuck him.

Letting out a soft breath, I reach forward, opening my mouth to quickly wrap around his stupid fingers so I can get this done already. He stops me with two words.

“Go slow.”

Glaring at his hand, I part my lips, slowly leaning the last inch forward and praying I manage to give him the plague in some magical fluke of cosmic retribution.

My mouth is really wet by the time I actually feel the two fingers. He’s halfway in my mouth when he touches my tongue. I can’t help but gasp from the feel of the firm pads of his fingertips, my tongue hollowing as I flinch away. Staring down resolutely at the holes in his jeans, I try not to make a noise as he rubs down the rough texture of my flesh, pushing into my building saliva and drawing forward to my wavering tip.

“Suck,” he orders lowly in my ear, his breath burning hot on my cheek.

I want to punch him. He’s trying to make me think about dick, I can tell just by the way he said it. Glaring straight ahead, I tighten my lips reluctantly, doing my best not to feel just how hot and damp his fingers are getting while in my mouth. Tentatively I try to suck around his fingers, my tongue hollowing again and inadvertently caressing against the digits. God, I hate him.

“Harder than that… Good. You’re not bad, Sullivan.” Smirking against my ear, he adds mockingly. “You do this a lot?”

He’s an absolute asshole. Like I go around sucking fingers, or dick—Cus he’s totally really saying that. What a total sick perv, and I can’t even tell him off because he has his fingers in my mouth.

My saliva is building too much, flooding the back of my throat, and I have to swallow or something even more embarrassing will happen. I try to do it in a way he won’t notice, moving my mouth as little as possible. But he still grunts, still pushes his fingers deeper when my throat and tongue convulse. I refuse to meet his eyes. I’m not Jenna. I’m not some slutty chick that just smiles and sucks fingers like I really want it to be dick. I’m a guy, and I just have to wait this fucking dare out.

Mitch isn’t content to let me just sit with his fingers in my mouth. He starts moving, sliding them in and out between my clinging lips, his knuckles rough and tugging at my flesh. Brows furrowed, I breathe heavier out my nose, refusing to acknowledge what he’s doing. It’s not the same. They’re just fingers. I have no plans on sucking a dick anytime in the future, and this is not like sucking dick, no matter how much he’s panting in my ear like a dog right now.

“Fuck, you’re really tight.” His other hand suddenly tangles in my shoulder length blond hair, pushing my head back roughly. I almost open my mouth to complain, but just manage to stop myself. There can’t be more than a minute left, right? Two, tops. Just got to endure the salty taste of his fingers, the firm, rough feel of his flesh a little longer, and it’ll be done.

He pulls my hair harder, and I can’t help it, I whimper. He sighs in my ear like I’m doing it for him, the creep, and pushes his fingers even deeper, moving down my tongue and reaching into my throat.

“That’s it… Fuck, you’re not even gagging. I think you’re a natural.”

Fucking pervert. It’s uncomfortable, my lips stretching wide over his knuckles, my throat convulsing as I fight not to cough. I struggle harder to pull air in, hating how hot his breath is as he suffocates me inside and out.

“Can you take it deeper?” Fuck, I should bite him. “Open your mouth nice and wide, and take me deeper, cutie.”

His fingers scrape the back of my throat and my mouth opens wide as I gasp and choke, spilling hot fluid down my lips and chin. He grabs the nape of my neck, groaning in my ear. When I’m done coughing, his fingers are going deeper before I can protest, his hand keeping me from moving away.

“Fuck, you can really take it deep. We should talk, Sullivan. For real. I think we could be good fucking friends.”

I’d give anything to be able to tell him to fuck off right now. But he’s rubbing my tongue again, trying to make me choke. Saliva is running down my chin, tickling cold on my throat, and I can’t even wipe it away as he thrusts his fingers, making sure to push into my bottom lip each time.

It’s suffocating, and hot, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what it actually feels like to have a dick in your mouth. But a dick is totally bigger, with that slick, swollen head. It would probably fill my entire mouth, probably wouldn’t get so deep. No, this is nothing like that, and he needs to stop grunting in my fucking ear.

“Thirty seconds. Better make them count,” Chris says cheerfully.

I fucking hate Chris; all of Dave’s friends suck. I wish Jake didn’t hang out with his older brother so much. Dave’s a jerk most of the time to me, and apparently his friends are too.

“You’re doing real good. Damn, you’ve got some really red lips, Sullivan. I think I know what my next dare is going to be.” His hand clutching the base of my skull, I can only groan in protest when Mitch’s tongue suddenly licks over my lips. Sick fucking perv.

God, it’s almost over. I know I’m gasping to breathe and everyone can see how red my face is. I close my eyes, hoping to block out Mitch’s cruel grin, trying to ignore his tongue following his fingers as he pushes into my mouth. I can’t help it. I groan again, louder, trying to turn away.

“Mitch, leave the kid alone,” Jenna snaps.

“Make me.” Humming, his tongue moves up the side of my face as he pushes his fingers deep into my throat again. I’m a mess, mortified and can’t breathe around his fingers like I could earlier. He likes it, grunting as he pushed deep in small thrusts. I choke around him, hot tears slipping from beneath my lashes.

“Yeah, we should have some fun, Sullivan,” he rasps into my ear. “I think you’ll like it. I can show you how to swallow something down much thicker than just fingers.”

My groan sounds like a gurgle as he pulls me close and takes my slick bottom lip and holds it tight between his teeth. He bites down, hard, and I gasp, coughing the same moment Chris calls the time and Mitch pulls his fingers from my mouth. I immediately shove him away, hunching forward when I can’t stop hacking.

Asshole. He’s an absolute asshole and I totally hate him.

“What do you say, Sullivan? Wanna meet me in the backyard for a few minutes?” He asks with a shit-eating grin.

Wiping my chin dry with my wrist, I stumble to my feet. “Go fuck yourself.”

I turn, determined to go home and never visit Jake’s again when his brother has friends over, only to stop short. Jake and Dave are standing in the doorway, both of them staring at me with stunned expressions.

How long have they been there? I hadn’t heard anything, but once Mitch had his fingers down my throat I really couldn’t notice much of anything else. I duck my head, hating how flushed I feel with Jake staring at me like that.

“Get out of the way,” I mutter, wincing from how hoarse my voice sounds.

Jake quickly steps back like he’s terrified I’m going to hit him. Good. He should be. I hate Mitch and I hate Jake for inviting me over here. I push past Dave, who’s still staring at me slack-jawed as his eyes move down my body. Fuck him.

“Wait—He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Jake follows after me. “I’ll have Dave beat the crap out of him, swear. Shit, just wait.”

Stopping short at the outer door, I turn, glaring at him in exasperation. “I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

“Oh… Well, let me walk you, at least,” Jake offers hesitantly.

He’s staring at my mouth. My best friend of eight years is just standing there, staring at my mouth, and I know he’s thinking of what it would look like if his dick was in it. I fucking hate Mitch.

“I don’t suck dick.”

Blinking, red rushes to his cheeks. “I-I never said…”

“You’re staring at my mouth the same way that asshole was,” I snap, flinching as my voice cracks. Fuck. Turning, I push outside into the night air. Jake eventually follows, catching up to my fast pace to walk beside me.

“I’m sorry. I just—Shit, you didn’t see what you looked like.” I glare at him from the corner of my eye. He’s so not fucking helping himself here.

“I don’t suck dick.”

He grabs my arm, holding it tight until I stop walking and glare at him properly. “Yeah, but maybe you really should.”

My hands tighten into fists. I’m two seconds from slugging him. “I will fucking kill you if you ever say something like that to me again.”

“You looked hot. Really fucking hot.” The fucker didn’t even have the decency to blush.

“Fuck you.” I go to leave, but he holds onto my arm. He’s taller than me, stronger, and when I try to wrench free, Jake pulls me back hard enough that I stumble and crash against his chest.

“Come on, B. It’s not that big of a deal.”

He’s got to be out of his fucking mind. I’m so stunned, I stop trying to elbow him. “What, are you telling me you’ve… you’ve sucked dick?”

Blushing, he looks away. “Not exactly.”

“Because if you’re talking about Mitch’s fingers, it’s not the same fucking thing, you asshole. I don’t do that—And don’t you dare fucking say I should,” I add warningly.

He’s quiet for a long moment, but he won’t let go of my arm. I never really noticed just how blue his eyes are. Even in the dark, they damn near glow.

“Just try it, B. Just once… Just me.” Staring me right in the eye, he grabs me by the chin, his thumb moving over my bruised bottom lip. “You looked really good.”

“Don’t,” I whisper weakly, trying to step back and get away from the crazy heat that seems to be coming from every spot he’s touching me. “I don’t…” He has my chin caught and I have this heart pounding, almost certain feeling he’s going to kiss me.

His other hand moves to my wrist, pulling my arm down until it’s trapped hot between our bodies. “Just a little. Just to see if you like it.”

He’s been hanging out with his asshole brother too much. “There is no way in fuck—Oh.”

He’s hard. His hips move again, his hand holding my palm steady so he can rub his erection into it. Holy fuck.

“You might like it,” he murmurs, pulling me closer, his lips brushing my mouth ever so lightly. “I’ll be nice about it… Let you go at your own pace. I would never hurt you, B.”

I exhale unsteadily, my mouth feeling really wet again, like right before Mitch’s fingers touched my tongue. “Jake… This is fucking weird.”

I should tell him to fuck off. I should hit him, and tell him to fuck off, and never, ever, ever talk to him again. But I can’t stop looking at the way his jeans are tented. And when he lets my palm go so he can pull his zipper down, I don’t step away.

“Get on your knees, B.”

I swallow hard, finally looking up to meet his eyes. “Why?” I manage to croak out.

“You know why.” His hand moves from my chin to the side of my face, raking through my long hair. “Seeing you like that got me so hot. It won’t take long. You don’t even have to swallow if you don’t want.”

He’s crazy. Absolutely crazy. But my feet just won’t fucking move. I hear a rustle of fabric and my gaze falls again. Yeah, so that’s what he looks like hard. Bigger than I thought. Really nothing at all like fingers.

“Get on your knees.”

It’ll be fast, right? I mean, he’s really hard, and… And fuck, it might not be that bad. It’s Jake, and he’s hard over me… And he’s big. Probably wouldn’t get as deep as Mitch’s nasty fingers.

Eyes caught on the way his hand is moving over the underside of his shaft, I don’t notice right away when he pushes down my shoulder. It’s not until he puts more pressure on me, my knees swaying, that I realize what I’m doing. My breath stuck somewhere in my throat, I slowly sink to the ground.

 

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City Howls #1

The Black Wolf, Heller
Exclusive Library
Secluded by his psychotic brother ever since their parents were killed by werewolves, Sage has no idea what’s wrong with him when he comes across his first wolf shifter in a dark alley late at night. All he knows for certain is that he’s unbearably hot, dizzy, and can’t seem to stop from letting the wolf do anything it wants to him. It has to be a curse but the shifter, Heller, thinks the beautiful boy belongs with his pack.

Not sure who to trust or how to get help, Sage must hide from his brother and find a solution before it’s too late. His friend, Taylor, knows a gang of werewolves willing to assist, but the vicious cursed men might end up being worse than the shifters in the long run. When Heller comes to free a stolen pup from the cursed, will Sage choose the life of a shifter pack bitch after he owes so much to his werewolf alpha?

This serial is 10,000+ words long per episode. It contains graphic language, violence, sexually explicit content between men, and shifter bestiality including tying. 18+ Only.

10,000+ wrds, Published March 10, 2016.
Heat level: XXX

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT CITY HOWLS

on April 20, 2016
on June 11, 2016

Review by: ann on Oct. 01, 2016 :

This book is nice and different looking forward to finding out why sage smells special. Thanks sadie your uploads on smashwords are way easier to download thsn those on amazon. Keep writing

READ AN EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE

Sage ran faster, his blood roaring in his ears. Beneath the sound of his heart frantically beating, he could hear it still; claws clicking on cement. It was dark and he had waited too long to go home after leaving his friend Taylor’s. His blond friend had offered to walk with him, but that would have just left Taylor to walk home alone at an even later, more dangerous hour. Sage’s brother would never let someone like Taylor stay at their place overnight, not when the boy hung out with the werewolves.

There was a loud huff, then a growl. Green eyes widening, Sage caught sight of an off shoot, an alleyway connecting streets together. If he could get over to Washington St. where the bars and bright lights were, he might be okay. As if reading his thoughts, there was a low howl, chilling and hungry. It made his knees weak and Sage stumbled to a halt. Dimly he realized that no other voices had raised to join the cry. The shifter was alone, stalking him down without a pack.

Oh god, what was wrong with him? He felt so hot all of a sudden. Not just from the running, but from the sound of the wolf, blue eyes glowing out of the darkness as it panted. “L-Leave me alone,” Sage said weakly, stepping back away from the intense stare. “I’m not… I’m not a werewolf. Your kind are supposed to be able to smell that. I’m just a guy… so leave me alone.”

He had reached the alley, brick rubbing his shoulder coarsely as he turned and nearly barreled backward, just catching the corner to keep from falling. His shoulder ached from how his arm had wrenched. And something else… Something else ached inside him, his legs shaking and feeling heavy. The shifter kept approaching, head low, a dark shadow stalking forward.

Sage knew it was a shifter and not a real wolf. Real wolves didn’t get as big. Something about the magic that allowed shifters to transform into animals also made them look more beautiful than the real creatures out of nature. The black wolf was otherworldly in appearance, silky looking blue-black fur and ice blue eyes. It was looking at him almost as if trying to figure out what he was, nose scenting the air.

Biting his lip, Sage hesitantly held his hand out. Once the shifter smelled him, he would know he wasn’t a werewolf. The shifters and werewolves didn’t get along. Dogtowne was the border where both packs fringed. The name was ironic given that any real dog had been killed off by the cursed werewolves years ago. The werewolves liked to kill the shifters, and the shifters liked to kill them back. Hopefully hanging around with Taylor hadn’t gotten too much werewolf smell on him. Taylor wasn’t a werewolf but he wanted to be.

“Stop!” Sage gasped, the wolf loping up to him and reaching its terrible fangs right at his hand. But the boy had held his hand out, something the shifter recognized enough to approach.

It was so much bigger close up. Sage was small even though full grown, slender and wiry-limbed from never getting a full meal. With his messy chocolate hair and bright green eyes, he was constantly being mistaken for much younger. The wolf stretched out nose to tail tip would likely be as tall as him and much heavier and stronger. Swallowing nervously, Sage raised his hand again, watching his thin fingers shake. The wolf pressed its large maw to his hand, breathing deeply, a low whine falling from its mouth.

Sage had only ever seen one other shifter up close. He had been a wolf too, bright white fur, maybe the same size of this one or even larger. A long time ago when Sage had been just a child, his parents were killed by warring werewolf packs. He had run, a transformed werewolf chasing after him, humanoid and muscular with terrible claws and slavering jaws. Everyone knew werewolves ate children during the full moon and Sage had not wished to be a meal.

He hadn’t known if the white wolf had come to save him or to just kill a werewolf. The shifter had died, the injured werewolf lurching and staggering away while the wolf bled out. Sage had cried, watching the fluffy fur stained scarlet turn into a tall, powerful looking man, blood pouring from his throat. He had been beautiful, long white-blond hair and pale eyes. His skin had nearly been as white as the wolf’s fur.

He had tried to help the shifter, but Sage’s brother had found him. Corey had screamed at him for going near such a filthy, horrible monster and pulled him away. Corey didn’t care that the shifter had saved Sage. He hated all of them, shifters and werewolves.

Staring at the icy eyes of the dark creature still sniffing his hand and wrist, Sage wondered what the man looked like. They were all males, the shifter gene stuck on the Y-chromosome. Not all men were shifters, but all shifters were male. They were also usually very handsome, or so Sage had been told. The shifters didn’t come into the city as people. The werewolves could smell what they were and would hunt them down quick enough. Moving as a wolf was much faster.

“S-See? I told you I wasn’t a werewolf,” Sage stammered, foot slipping back to creep away. The wolf growled at him, the boy freezing and biting his lip. What if the rumors were true? What if the shifters were just as terrible as the werewolves and if they got hungry enough they might just eat a person?

Sweat trickled down his neck. The wolf didn’t look particularly skinny, more compact muscle and nicely kept fur. But maybe it was just well fed on stupid humans that didn’t know better than to wait until daylight to travel?

Sage cautiously peeked over his shoulder. There was a large dumpster blocking most of his view. Only as far as two towering apartment buildings away were city lights, neon and garish. If he ran for them, he might make it. The shifter wouldn’t risk being around a huge population. The werewolves roamed at night, partying with their human crew of gangsters. Surely the shifter would avoid a bar full of both.

Decided, heart slamming in his chest, Sage turned and ran. He made it about three feet before he tripped, blind to the black plastic bag of trash that had been right by his foot. He fell heavily, the concrete jarring his bones, everything spinning for frantic, dizzy minutes. “Shit—Oh fuck, get off me,” he whimpered, the wolf growling and biting the collar of his shirt, paws and a great weight pinning him hard to the ground by his shoulders.

Sage felt so hot and dizzy. There was something wrong with him, some sort of fever. There was a musky, strange smell around him that had nothing to do with the garbage only feet away. He thought maybe it was the wolf. The creature was tearing at his shirt with its vicious teeth, pulling a long slash down the fabric, a ripping noise loud in his ears.

It was going to eat him. Peel his clothes off and eat him like a bag of dog food. As if to validate the terrifying thought, the wolf began to lick over Sage’s exposed back, its slippery pink tongue lapping down, stealing the spots of blood its claws had caused while it continued to stand on top of him. Sage should have been terrified but there was something wrong with him at the moment. His body felt so hot, so achingly tight and hard. He woke up some mornings, heated dreams fading where he felt like this. He had never felt it while awake. He could be dreaming… that would make more sense.

“Oh god… please stop,” Sage groaned, teeth nipping at his shoulder and shooting fire through him. He shouldn’t like this. It was a shifter and a male. Sage wasn’t supposed to like guys… or wolves. “Oh… oh hell…” The tongue moved lower, down his back, licking the dip of his waist and leaving trails of wet on his skin. He wondered if it would go lower—If he should help the shifter get his jeans off so it would lick even lower.

Eyes squeezed shut, Sage silently cursed himself. He shouldn’t want that. What kind of freak wanted that? God, he was so hard, though.

While he fought with his body’s confusing desires, the shifter nipped at his waistband, sinking teeth in and pulling his jeans down. They were too tight, Sage gasping with each tug of fabric that pulled snug on his erection. He was going crazy. Shifters might eat a person, but they didn’t fuck them. At least, he didn’t think they did. His brother had suggested something disgusting along the lines of it, but Corey always said gross stuff about sex. The man thought everything about sex was filthy, including wanting it. Sage was, unfortunately, feeling very filthy at the moment.

Unable to hold back any longer, he reached down, fighting with the clasp of his jeans and unbuttoning them one handed. He unzipped slowly, the wolf stilling as he heard the metal teeth unfurl. Panting, Sage raised his hips when the shifter tugged again, the heavy fabric giving way, pulling down his narrow hips and then slender thighs with each wrench and snarl, leaving his exposed flesh stinging on the rough concrete. God, what was he doing?

A hard nose pressed against his ass, his briefs the only protection from the hot snuffles and sharp teeth. The shifter was smelling him, down his crack, pushing between his cheeks, breathing in the musk of his balls. Sage bit his lip hard, trying to keep from moaning with each touch. Maybe this was all it wanted. Just to smell him and learn whatever the hell it was canines learned from sniffing each other. That Sage was getting hard, his cock dripping precum was really just something fucked up with him.

It was apparently not enough, the wolf huffing and nipping at the thin material of his underwear, stretching it from the boy’s golden skin. It got his briefs halfway down his thighs, the material snagging on the front around Sage’s embarrassingly hard dick. The nose returned with prickling whiskers and damp heat, nuzzling and wedging between his pert cheeks with clear intent. Sage could not stop from crying out loudly, his hips jolting forward.

“Why are you…? Oh god… that’s bad… really, really bad,” Sage mumbled mindlessly, the slippery tongue delving, tasting his bare ass and sac, sliding around to lap at his hard cock. Then it wiggled between his cheeks and lighted over the pucker of his hole. “It’s dirty… so dirty,” he whispered, his face and neck bright red. But it felt so good.

Corey had promised to beat him if he ever masturbated like some degenerate, freak pervert. His older brother used to beat Sage whenever he caught him getting hard. Sometimes even doing stuff to hurt him that made him hard and then punishing him for it after. Only sick freaks liked that. Corey still did that sometimes, usually after getting drunk and extra mean. Sage still couldn’t stop from getting hard, just showing how fucked up he was.

The tongue kept moving, nose pushing relentlessly against his crack, spreading his cheeks wider as it slipped over his entrance again and again. The wolf nosed lower, pushing at Sage’s thighs, forcing him up onto his knees while the boy’s slender legs trembled. Then again, slipping deep between his cheeks, tasting him more from the new angle, dripping trails of saliva down his pale inner thighs.

“D-Don’t—You shouldn’t… oh fuck—Oh fuck, you’re gonna…” Sage sobbed weakly, realizing what was coming next. He was surrounded by silky fur, black and suffocating as it rubbed on his bare back, ass and thighs. The wolf settled heavily on his sloped torso, paws clutching his narrow, heaving chest. Sage could feel hot splatters of liquid, each hump of the wolf’s hard cock adding another stream of wet to his thighs and ass.

 

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