Lahat ng Kabanata ng Nailed: Men In Heat: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Chapter 3Testing BoundariesKeaton’s POVSolitary had a way of stripping a man down to the bones.No noise, no daylight, no distractions, just the hum of the fan in the vents, the sound of my own breathing, the endless echo of my thoughts.Most men broke in here. They begged to be put back into general population after two days, three at most. Me? I’d been in worse cages. The silence didn’t scare me, it just left me with too much time to think.And every damn thought circled back to him.Warden Callum Graves.Steel-blue eyes, broad shoulders, that gravelly voice that felt like it belonged in my ear while his hand shoved me against a wall.I lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling, replaying his order in my head. Strip. The way his gaze hadn’t wavered once, like he was cataloging every inch of me for future use. The way his hand had yanked me to my feet like I weighed nothing.My cock twitched at the memory, and I groaned, dragging an arm over my face. Fucking pathetic, lusting after t

Chapter 5 The Warden’s ObsessionGraves’ POVThe prison was never quiet.Even at night, when the cells were locked and the convicts forced into restless slumber, the air still buzzed. The hum of the generators, the metallic creak of pipes expanding against the cold, the occasional distant yell from a dream-ridden inmate who forgot where he was. I knew every sound of it. I had ruled this fortress long enough to read its language. The prison was my heart, my lungs and bones.And yet—tonight—its rhythm felt broken.I sat behind my desk, coat unbuttoned, collar loosened, my hands braced on the arms of my chair. The lamp to my right cast an amber glow across a stack of reports, but the words blurred together. I wasn’t reading, my eyes were narrowed, fixed on nothing, my jaw tight.I could still smell him.Keaton.The taste of sweat, the sting of pain where nails raked, the sound of breathless curses caught between moans—every scrap of it clung to my memory like a smoke scent I couldn’t wa

Chapter 7 MineKeaton’s POVThat voice—low, deep, deliberate—still vibrated through me.“Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you here?”My blood iced. I wanted to scoff, to laugh, to scream. He had me brought here, I know he did but he’s acting like I did something to get myself in here and away from him.“Graves.” My voice scraped raw in my throat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”I expected silence, maybe even the smug twist of his lips in the dark. What I got instead was the click of the door sealing shut behind him. My stomach plummeted.The isolation cell was supposed to be empty, a punishment. Nobody came here except guards delivering food trays twice a day. But of course Graves would bend rules, bribe whoever he had to, pull strings I didn’t even know existed. Of course he’d make sure no door was ever truly closed between us.“You looked better in chains,” he said quietly, almost fondly.The words made me jolt, like he’d touched me already. My wrists weren’t cuffed, but

Chapter OneIn Session The office didn’t look like what Daniel expected. He thought a sex therapist’s space would be plastered with tacky diagrams of anatomy, maybe some shelves stacked with dildos or glossy magazines. Instead, Dr. Grant Lawson’s office was sleek, modern, disturbingly calm. Dark wood panels, a single tall bookshelf, and a leather chair behind a minimalist desk. The air smelled faintly of sandalwood and something sharper, like clean steel.Daniel leaned against the doorframe, chewing the inside of his cheek. “This is it? No sex toys on display? I thought I’d at least get a condom goodie bag for showing up.”Dr. Lawson looked up from his notes, unbothered. Mid-thirties, maybe late. Square jaw, neatly trimmed beard, a man who probably ironed his shirts himself and never once spilled coffee on them. His glasses caught the light as he gestured to the couch opposite his chair. “Sit down, Daniel.”The tone wasn’t harsh. But it left no room for refusal.Daniel smirked. He ha

Chapter ThreeStripped BareDaniel swore he wouldn’t come back.All week he told himself he was done, that no therapist was worth the kind of blue-ball torture he’d endured last time. He’d nearly broken his hand jerking off after that session, furious at Dr. Lawson, furious at himself for obeying every damned word.And yet, Thursday afternoon found him outside that office again, pacing the hall like some addict. His cock was half-hard already, just from the thought of hearing that voice again.He hated it yet he craved it.He opened the door without knocking, like barging in would prove he was still in control.Dr. Lawson looked up, unbothered, as if Daniel hadn’t just slammed into the room like a storm. “You’re early,” he said simply.“Guess I couldn’t stay away.” Daniel flung himself onto the couch, legs spread wide, trying to radiate nonchalance while his pulse hammered.“Did you complete the assignment?”Of course he had. Every humiliating second of it. He yanked the notebook out