LOGINThe black sweater was soft, expensive cashmere that clung to Yu Yan’s skin like a second layer. The v-neck was deep, framing the leather collar perfectly. It was humiliating to wear it, but the alternative—wearing nothing, or worse, facing Lu Cheng’s wrath—was worse.When Yu Yan entered the dining r
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. There were only five rules written in Lu Cheng’s neat, sharp handwriting.RULE #1: You will address me as Gege or Sir in private. RULE #2: You will wear the collar at all times unless I remove it. RULE #3: You will not touch yourself or com
Yu Yan didn't know how long he lay there. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. The ache in his groin eventually subsided into a dull, throbbing frustration, leaving him feeling hollow and drained.He eventually pulled his clothes back on, his movements sluggish and heavy. He felt
"So eager," Lu Cheng murmured, squeezing him just enough to make Yu Yan see stars. "You really are a desperate little thing, aren't you?"He began to rub his palm in slow, agonizing circles. The friction of the denim against Yu Yan’s sensitive flesh was torture—too much and not enough all at once. Y
He shifted his weight, pressing his hips down deliberately. Yu Yan felt the hard length of him again, unmistakable and demanding. A fresh wave of panic washed over him. This was actually happening. His stepbrother was going to force himself on him."Please," Yu Yan whispered, the fight draining out
The inside of the villa was cool and smelled of dust and old wood. Lu Cheng didn’t bother turning on the lights as he carried Yu Yan through the hallway, his grip on Yu Yan’s waist unyielding. Yu Yan struggled, kicking his legs and pounding his fists against Lu Cheng’s broad back, but it was like tr
The boardroom was no longer empty. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the sharp tang of anxiety. Twelve men sat around the mahogany table and every single one of them had once called my father a friend. Now they sat in the presence of Silas Vane like subjects before a king. And
The next morning, I woke up to the rich, bitter smell of coffee. For a few blissful seconds, I forgot. I forgot about the funeral, about the house, about the strange, tense dynamic crackling between me and Marcus. Then reality crashed down, and I pulled a pillow over my head, wishing I could smother
I stood there, frozen, my mind a complete blank. Take those sweaty clothes off. The order echoed in the silent kitchen, each word a separate, heavy stone dropping into the pit of my stomach. My sweatpants were already tented, my arousal a blatant, throbbing accusation. Stripping now felt like a diff
He was thrusting with a force that made our bodies slide across the slick stone bench. Elena was a mess of sweat and tears, her juices flooding my face as I worked her, the heat of Silas's entry into her pulsing against my lips. Silas reached forward and grabbed my cock, jerking it with a rhythmic,







