LOGINHe doesn’t knock. He breaks the door down—and your back with it. In Nailed: Men In Heat, the men are ruthless, brutal, and always hard. They bend you over desks, shove you face-first into pillows, and split you open like they paid for the right. No sweet talk. No cuddling. Just cum, bruises, and the sound of skin slapping skin. You’ll gag. You’ll drool. You’ll beg. And he’ll just keep going. Spit-soaked. Ass-up. Throat-fucked. He’ll ruin your hole, coat your insides, and leave you leaking for days. If you’re not shaking by the end of the chapter? You’ll be begging for the next man to finish the job. These are raw, relentless, hole-filling fucks—and they always finish deep. One thrust and you’re addicted.
View MoreChapter 2Fight Benjamin was startled. Cole stood in the doorway, a paper bag of take-away coffee balanced on one arm, hair tousled from the wind.“I forgot my sketchbook,” he said, gesturing to a table near the props. “Camille said you’d be gone.”“I was,” Benjamin replied, minimizing the image window. “Apparently I wasn’t… really gone.”Cole smiled faintly and crossed the room. “You work late.”“I try not to, but inspiration’s inconvenient.”He tried to sound detached but it didn’t work.Cole placed one of the coffees beside him. “For the inconvenience.”Benjamin’s first instinct was to refuse, but the warmth of the cup and the sincerity in Cole’s eyes disarmed him. “You bribed your photographer.”“Maybe I’m bribing the man who forgot to eat dinner.”Benjamin laughed quietly. It was the first real sound between them that wasn’t an instruction or a shutter click.They sat opposite each other, the glow from the monitor painting them in blue light. For a while, the only sound was the
Chapter 1: The ShootThe Rue des Écoles was still slick from a morning drizzle when Benjamin Carter stepped out of the cab, camera case in one hand, coffee in the other. Paris smelled of wet stone and espresso, an intoxicating mix he’d never quite shaken.Inside the studio, the assistants were already humming through their checklist. Lighting rigs warming up, fans testing their soft whir, racks of couture shimmering like captive stars. Benjamin moved through the space with quiet precision, eyes sharp and taking note of everything. It was his first campaign since his hiatus, and though he’d photographed icons and royals, this job felt different. He needed it to work.“Model’s running ten minutes late,” murmured Camille, his long-time producer. “Newcomer from Barcelona. Cole Reyes.”“Newcomer?” Benjamin arched a brow. “For this campaign?”Camille shrugged. “The designer insisted. Said he has the kind of face that makes you forget the concept.”Benjamin muttered something about unpredict
Chapter Nine Possession Grant’s weight pressed him down, the full length of his body grinding over Daniel’s, pinning him in place like prey. Every shift of muscle sent sparks of agony-pleasure through Daniel’s nerves until he was trembling, clawing at the carpet.“Beg louder,” Grant murmured, his voice a low growl against Daniel’s throat.Daniel could barely breathe, but the words spilled anyway. “Please, please don’t stop, please take me, I’ll do anything—”Grant’s mouth crashed onto his, swallowing the desperation, his tongue merciless and claiming. Daniel arched upward into him, gasping when Grant’s thigh shoved harder between his legs, grinding deep into the aching bulge.Grant’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of Daniel’s jeans, his progress deliberately slow and Daniel nearly sobbed. The touch was maddening—barely there, cruelly teasing, dragging over damp skin without relief.“You’re soaked,” Grant whispered, his lips brushing Daniel’s ear. “All this just from begging. You
Chapter EightFirst TasteThe weight of Dr. Lawson’s hand in Ethan’s hair was devastating.After weeks of denial, the simple touch shattered him. His body collapsed forward, cheek pressed against Dr. Lawson’s thigh, his moan muffled and raw. It felt obscene to tremble like this from nothing more than fingers tangling in his hair, but his cock throbbed like it was about to burst, dampness spreading hot through his jeans.Dr. Lawson didn’t move for a long moment. He just let Daniel kneel there, clutching fistfuls of his own thighs, panting like a sinner kneeling before God.Then, with a controlled tug, he lifted his head. Their eyes locked, and Daniel thought he might combust.“Pathetic,” Dr. Lawson murmured. “One touch and you’re undone.”Daniel swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “I—I can’t help it.”“You can,” Dr. Lawson corrected coldly. “You just won’t. That’s the difference. You’ve chosen this weakness. You’ve chosen to let me reduce you.”Dan
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