Library
Maghanap
Home / LGBTQ+ / Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire / The Roommates: Part 5

Share

The Roommates: Part 5

Author: Nyxenite
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-30 08:00:18

What comes after?

Jonas starts testing the waters. A towel left hanging just a bit longer in the bathroom. A shirt slipped off in the middle of their conversation. Subtle. Calculated. Like a slow dance of fire and gasoline.

Rafael? He's spiraling. Trying to keep his composure, trying not to look too long. Trying not to let his hands shake when Jonas leans too close. Because every inch Jonas gives feels like a cruel tease.

And at night, when Jonas is asleep?

Rafael stares at the ceiling.

Mouth dry. Chest aching.

Because now… he's not just obsessed.

He's afraid Jonas knows.

But he doesn't know that Jonas is starting to get off on the power of it. That he likes the tension, the unspoken war of bodies and control.

Jonas was alone in the room again. Rafael had just said he was heading out, tossing a casual "Don't wait up" over his shoulder. Jonas only gave a distracted nod from his bed, already sorting
Patuloy na basahin ang aklat na ito nang libre
I-scan ang code upang i-download ang App
Locked Chapter
Nakaraang Kabanata Susunod na kabanata

Pinakabagong kabanata

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 7

    The basement of Russo Tower buzzed with the hum of wealth and deceit. The auction for the stolen Volkov cars was a glittering charade, the air thick with cigar smoke and the clink of champagne flutes. Natasha Petrova, the Volkovs’ deadly second-in-command, had slipped in like a viper, her lithe frame draped in a crimson dress that clung to every curve. Her target was Raul Mendoza, a Colombian drug lord with a weakness for sharp women and sharper highs. Natasha had worked him for weeks, first a chance meeting at a rival club, then nights of calculated seduction. She’d fucked him senseless in his penthouse, riding his cock with expert rolls of her hips, her moans practiced but convincing, until he was hooked, begging for her touch, spilling secrets with every thrust. Now, he’d smuggled her into the auction as his plus-one, oblivious to her true allegiance.The auctioneer’s gavel cracked, bids climbing into the millions. Custom

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 6

    The city’s underworld churned with blood and ambition, and Vincent Russo’s empire, though ironclad, wasn’t the only beast prowling the streets. Across the river, in the industrial sprawl of the city’s eastern docks, the Volkov family held court, a Russian mafia dynasty as ruthless as they were cunning. Led by Dmitri Volkov, a bear of a man with a shaved head, ice-blue eyes, and a penchant for carving his initials into traitors’ flesh, the Volkovs had been gnawing at Russo’s territories for years. Their feud was a slow-burning war, fueled by old betrayals and new greed, and the gunfire that grazed Vincent’s shoulder was no random hit, it bore the Volkovs’ signature.Dmitri Volkov was born in Moscow in 1978, during the Soviet Union’s twilight. His father, Ivan, was a KGB enforcer turned Bratva kingpin, smuggling everything from vodka to AK-47s through the chaos of perestroika. Dmitri grew up in a world of barbed wire and backr

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 5

    The door to Chris's private room creaked open later than usual that night, the clock ticking past 2 a.m. Chris, chained to the headboard as always, lifted his head from the pillow, his heart skipping a beat despite himself. Vincent staggered in, his usual predatory grace faltering. Blood stained his white shirt, a dark bloom spreading from his shoulder. He clutched at it, his face pale under the dim lamp light, sweat beading on his forehead. "Fuck," he muttered, slamming the door shut behind him.Chris froze, watching from the bed. Part of him, the part that remembered the initial brutality, the forced indenture, wanted to smirk, to let the bastard suffer. But as Vincent hissed in pain, peeling off his jacket with gritted teeth, something twisted in Chris's chest. Worry? No, it couldn't be. "What happened?" he asked, his voice softer than intended, chains rattling as he sat up."None of your dam

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 4

    Chris awoke to the cold bite of steel around his wrists, the chains rattling softly as he shifted on the king-sized bed. The private room was a far cry from the basement dungeon, plush carpets, silk sheets, and a massive en-suite bathroom with marble fixtures, but it was still a cage. The chains were bolted to the headboard, long enough to let him shuffle to the toilet or sink if nature called, but not far enough to reach the locked door. Vincent's doing, of course. The mafia boss had "upgraded" him after that first brutal claiming, muttering something about keeping his new asset comfortable. Comfortable? Chris snorted, tugging at the restraints. They dug into his skin, a constant reminder of his indenture. Five years of running, and now he was Vincent Russo's personal fucktoy.By day, Vincent ruled his empire with an iron fist. Meetings in boardrooms that doubled as war rooms, barking orders to underlings who trembled

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 3

    Vincent Russo was forged in the fires of Sicily's ancient vendettas, transplanted to the concrete jungles of New York City when he was just a boy. Born in Palermo in 1985, under a blood moon that the old nonnas whispered was an omen of power and peril, Vincent was the firstborn son of Giovanni Russo, a mid-level caporegime in the Cosa Nostra. Giovanni had clawed his way up from the slums, marrying into minor nobility through Vincent's mother, Isabella, a stunning beauty with raven hair and eyes like polished obsidian, whose family traced back to feudal lords. But nobility meant nothing in the mafia; loyalty and brutality were the true currencies.Vincent's earliest memories were of gunpowder and garlic. At five, he watched from the shadows as his father executed a traitor in their villa's courtyard, a single shot to the head, blood pooling on the terracotta tiles. "This is family, Vincenzo," Giovanni growled, wiping the pist

  • Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire    The Mafia Boss' Favorite Toy: Part 2

    Chris Jackson wasn't always a ghost in the shadows, slipping through the cracks of the city's underbelly like smoke. Born in the gritty outskirts of Chicago, he grew up in a crumbling rowhouse that smelled of stale beer and regret. His father, a washed-up boxer named Mallory Jackson, had once dreamed of glory in the ring but settled for breaking jaws in back-alley brawls for the local mob. Mallory's temper was legendary, fists flying over spilled drinks or imagined slights, and Chris bore the scars of it from a young age. Bruised ribs from "tough love," a crooked nose from the night Mallory caught him sneaking out at fourteen. "Life's a fight, kid," Mallory would slur, reeking of whiskey. "Hit first or get buried."Chris's mother, Elena, was the fragile counterpoint, a former dancer who'd traded pirouettes for waiting tables at a dingy strip club. She loved her son fiercely, shielding him from the worst of Mallory's rages, b

Higit pang Kabanata

Maaari mong magustuhan

Galugarin at basahin ang magagandang nobela
Libreng basahin ang magagandang nobela sa GoodNovel app. I-download ang mga librong gusto mo at basahin kahit saan at anumang oras.
Libreng basahin ang mga aklat sa app
I-scan ang code para mabasa sa App
DMCA.com Protection Status