Novels by Sandy White

Liak’s POVI woke from my nap feeling a little more restored. The new, clean bed was an absurd contrast to the concrete slab of the cells and the worn mattress in Tropheia. I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the dust of the flight and the tension of the journey. I picked up the small dictionary from the nightstand my only safe harbor in that place and rehearsed the English sentence several times before gathering the courage. I wanted to show Hunter that I wasn’t a useless burden, that I could help.When I reached the kitchen doorway, I saw Hunter focused in front of the stove, stirring a pot of red sauce. I leaned against the wall and said, pausing slightly between each word so I wouldn’t mess up the pronunciation:“Do you need help?”Seeing the surprised smile that formed on his lips gave me a strange sense of relief and a sudden warmth in my chest. Making that tough man smile felt like a small daily victory. He pointed to the tomatoes on the counter. I went to the

Liak’s POVThe smell of alcohol hung thick in the air when I heard him shut the door with a heavy thud. I wasn’t really asleep just sunk in that hazy state where the body’s exhaustion fights the mind’s stubborn wakefulness.I felt the mattress dip. His breathing was dense, hot, and heavy with the sharp scent of whiskey. When he leaned in and pressed his face against the back of my neck, the heat of his body cut straight through the blanket. My heart slammed against my ribs. I stayed completely still, carefully controlling my breathing so he would think I was still unconscious.His presence so close was a suffocating mix of threat and comfort. For a moment I felt the full weight of his body against mine and sensed the rigid tension that held him. I didn’t move a single muscle. I just lay there in the dark, listening to his breathing until the silence settled and sleep finally claimed me.When I woke to the first rays of light, he was no longer beside me. I saw him across the room, movi

Liak’s POVWhen I finished typing and handed it over, I noticed something strange. Hunter looked visibly sad. He wasn’t sad for me, but rather because he deeply understood. It was as if he knew that exact feeling of abandonment somehow in his own life. It was in that quiet moment that I realized he also carried deep wounds wounds I still didn’t know about, wounds I might never truly know. For the rest of the long day, we stayed confined to the small room, waiting for updates. Hunter went out occasionally to check the situation on the streets, and every single time he left, I found myself watching the door. Waiting. Counting the agonizing minutes. Listening intently for footsteps in the hallway. Until he came back. When he finally returned, a part of my body immediately relaxed, as if my flesh had already decided that this man meant safety, even if my rational mind still tried to deny it. That night, while watching Hunter work quietly in front of the computer, I finally understoo

Liak’s POVFor a few quiet seconds, I remained completely still, staring blankly up at the ceiling, trying to understand where I was. That heavy feeling of confusion had become far too common ever since the kidnapping. For a brief, deceptive moment, my mind always believed I was back in my old, normal life. Then, reality slowly emerged from the shadows, bringing with it all the traumatic memories I tried so hard to forget. The laboratory. The drugs. The escape. Hunter. My gaze automatically moved to the other bed in the room. It was empty. An immediate, icy chill ran straight through my body. I sat up so quickly that I felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over me. The room was entirely silent. The bathroom was empty. The front door was closed. My heart started racing inside my chest. It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. I had survived entirely alone for months in a cell. Before all of this happened, I had lived twenty-something years without even knowing Hunter existed. S

Liak’s POVI watched attentively as he handed a watch over to the driver as payment. Even without understanding the words spoken between them, I realized that specific watch was deeply important to him. I saw the way his fingers lingered on the metal for a fraction of a second before letting it go. I saw the brief, unmistakable flash of sadness in his eyes. And in that moment, I understood. The watch carried an immense sentimental value. Even so, he gave it up without a single hesitation. He did it for us. For the escape. For our survival. During the ride, I kept my eyes fixed outside the window. Every kilometer we traveled increased the haunting feeling that I was leaving something major behind. It wasn’t just the physical laboratory I was moving away from; it was the entire person I had been before the kidnapping. The truth was that I no longer knew who I was anymore. I was just someone trying to survive to see the next day. When we finally arrived at our destination, Hunter l

Liak’s POV My body began to react entirely against my will, and a suffocating wave of shame washed over me immediately. I snapped my eyes away from him, moving a little further into the corner of the car, trying desperately to hide my physical state, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. But Hunter noticed. He always noticed. For a terrifying moment, I braced myself and waited for the inevitable judgment. The disapproval. The visible discomfort. Anything. But instead of mocking me, he simply looked away. Like he always did. As if, by averting his eyes, he were offering me a piece of the dignity I had lost. Somehow, that kindness hurt more than any cruel humiliation ever could. It hurt because it was pure, unprompted kindness, and I no longer knew how to deal with that. I spent the rest of the train trip fighting a silent battle to regain control over my own flesh, trying to convince myself that the side effects would end soon, trying to force myself to forget the burning emba

I began to move. The rhythm I chose was slow, deep, and measured. With every careful thrust, Kyle’s body reacted. His moans stopped being contained and started to fill the room low, deep sounds charged with a mixture of discovery and relief. His skin, sweaty, brushed against mine, and every movement created a friction so perfect that my mind seemed to float away from reality.“That… like that, Aidan…” Kyle murmured, his nails digging lightly into my back, his hips following my rhythm with surprising ease.Seeing his face under the dim light eyelids furrowed with pleasure, mouth slightly open releasing warm sighs against my chest was the most beautiful and painful sight I had ever witnessed. The guilt of thirteen years did not disappear, but in that sacred space it was transformed into an act of pure care and mutual surrender.I gradually increased the intensity of the thrusts, feeling the heat inside him rise. The tightness around my cock became almost unbearable, a rhythmic crushing

I held Kyle’s face between my hands, my thumbs gently wiping away the few tears that still insisted on falling. He closed his eyes at the warmth of my skin against his and let out a deep sigh, a light tremor running through his body.“It’s okay… I accept,” I murmured, my voice hoarse and heavy with serious gravity. “But if we’re going to do this, Kyle, it’s going to be the right way. Carefully. With care. No rush, no audience, and no pain.”Kyle opened his eyes, the wet green meeting mine with a silent gratitude so visceral it made my heart tighten.“Thank you, Aidan…” he whispered.He leaned in and kissed me again. This time there was none of the raw desperation from seconds earlier. It was a calm, deep kiss where our tongues met in a slow, welcoming rhythm. I wrapped my arms around his waist and guided him out of the bathroom, leaving the cold lighting behind as we moved into the cozy dimness of the master suite.Kyle walked to the king-size bed in the center of the room and sat on

“I brag about being able to masturbate alone, about having control of my body in solitude… but I’ve never come with another person, Aidan,” he confessed, staring at me with a rawness that made my stomach knot. “Never. Not with Claire, not with the couples from my escort past… and least of all with my boyfriend. I’ve given myself, I’ve served, I’ve performed pleasure my entire life. But the moment of receiving, the moment of truly being with another person, I become a stone. I shut down. My mind locks itself in the dark.” The revelation fell between us like a shattered mirror. The pain of the man I had helped destroy thirteen years ago was there, bleeding in front of me, wearing a different mask from mine, but carrying the same weight of numbness. “This is destroying my relationship,” Kyle continued, his voice failing into an almost inaudible whisper. “He doesn’t understand. He thinks the problem is him. He thinks I don’t desire him… and I don’t know how to keep pretending that eve

“Look at me… it’s only because of me that you’re like this,” he provoked, his deep voice acting as a definitive anesthetic for my guilt. The friction became faster, the pleasure climbing my spine in violent, uncontrolled waves. My chest heaved, the muscles of my thighs locking as the peak approached with long strides. The mind that had spent more than a decade in the desert was now completely submerged in a perfect sensory storm. “Go on, Aidan… come for me,” Kyle commanded, giving the final psychological push I needed. I closed my fingers tightly around my cock and gave three quick thrusts into the air, releasing a loud roar that echoed through the room. The orgasm hit me with a liberating brutality, making my body arch on the sofa while hot jets of cum shot against my own abdomen and hand. I collapsed against the back of the sofa, completely drained, chest rising and falling violently. Kyle did not finish. He never even took his pants off or stroked himself to the end, but a

I gestured with my hand, indicating the interior of the living room, and walked over to the fine wooden bar to pour a double measure of whisky. The sound of the glass against the tumbler was the only noise that broke the tense silence. I handed him the drink, feeling the proximity of his body send a wave of electricity straight through my skin. “I’m surprised, I won’t lie,” I began, keeping my voice in the firm tone I still had left, even though my chest was hammering. “But… I’m happy with your visit, Kyle.” He accepted the glass, took a slow sip, and kept his green eyes locked on mine, analyzing every micro-expression on my face with surgical precision. “Have you seen Claire these past few days?” he asked, getting straight to the point. “No,” I answered, shaking my head. “We haven’t seen each other or gone out since that night.” “So you haven’t confirmed whether you can come alone with her? Without me around?” he continued, his voice dropping to a lower, almost investigativ

My eyes met Kyle’s over her head. He did not look the least bit regretful. On the contrary: his eyes analyzed me with an almost hungry intensity, as if he had just tasted something he had also been desiring in secret. The kiss had not been bad for him. It had been monumental for both of us. “Enough preliminaries,” Claire whispered, her voice trembling, freeing herself from the wine-colored silk robe and becoming completely naked before us. “I want both of you. Now.” Urgency took over the room. Kyle stood up and grabbed a bottle of body oil from the side table. I positioned myself in the center of the plush carpet, sitting cross-legged, my erect and pulsing cock releasing the excess tension. Claire moved with agility, climbing onto my lap. She aligned herself over me and descended slowly, taking my cock in all at once as she settled on my hips. She let out a sharp cry of pleasure, throwing her head back against my shoulder. I wrapped her waist with my hands, dictating a slow upward