Angled Bookshelf Novels & Stories

He got one text and was dragged to the room by the man Finn swore he’d never kneel to again. Magnus. The suite’s dark when Finn steps inside. Magnus likes it that way. Darkness makes people honest, knocks down walls, gives him time to do as he pleases. The only thing Finn can really see is the mark on his collarbone. Magnus left that mark. It was supposed to be nothing, just a night, but here they aren, nothing never happened. Now Magnus stands close. Too close. Finn can feel the heat of him, the steadiness of his hand, thumb angled under his chin, nudging his face up. Slow, deliberate. Merciless. Like he’s got all night, and he’s going to use every minute. There’s a choice here, but it’s not much of one. Take off your clothes. Give in. Get what you need or walk away and let someone else pay for it. Magnus presses a piece of paper against Finn’s skin, dragging it down, fingertip tracing the edge to his waist. Finn’s breath stutters. It was never really about the drug. It’s Magnus watching him, already sure how the night ends, almost like he’s been counting the days for Finn to walk right back through a door like this. Finn undoes the first button then the next.Magnus just watches, lazy smile bending his mouth, and the room feels tight, hot, full of something dangerous and old that never left. Some hungers just sleep. They don’t die. So, is Finn going to surrender tonight? Or by morning, will he even want to leave?