Arthur Morgan X Male Reader Novels & Stories

he went to his room and started having shower the water passing from his perfectly toned body after freshup he sat on his chair without shirt and speaking in call this man is none other than MARCELLO AURTHUR the king of black panther mafia the ruthless, merciless, sex addict, womanizer, dominant these all are names given by world to him he have countless girls beside him and countless enemies around him waiting for a chance to kill him soon a girl entered into room along with another man these both are only friends of him lucy and Xion xion said "man why can't you cover your body" Aurthur replied "I don't think I have a imperfect body to hide" lucy chuckled xion went near Aurthur and whisper

“Do the honors.” Shawn slipped a USB from his pocket. “Better save this first. No telling if it’ll vanish.” He moved quickly. Keys clicked. Then the email opened. The room breathed in sharply as one. Photos filled the screen. Morgan, caught in a filthy brothel—not the sleek clubs we knew, but a low, stinking place. His trousers around his knees, women draped over him. In one frame, even a man. Everything exposed, spread deliberately. I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. God, no… And that was only the start.

WRITER’S POV Dashing into the hideout, Arthur growled loudly which showed he wanted to be all alone. His men who were training there all vamoosed. The thought of having a human mate made his blood boiled. Events of the last time he went hunting when a human hunter nearly killed him made it even worse for him to accept his fate which he only saw as terrible. He put a call across to his beta, Dennis and before the next thirty minutes Dennis had arrived. He called Jeremy too. They are the only ones he could confide in that moment. He needed someone to tell him he was having a nightmare…anything just to end this terrible fate of his.

Aria was about to give up when she heard Morgan call from the other side of the room. She looked over to where his voice came from and rounded various shelves of books. In his hand was a large brown book with gold leaf that had mostly faded. The book was torn at the binding and some pages were slipping loose. Morgan set it down on a nearby table and opened it. On the first page Aria could see was a drawing of a human with what looked like dragonfly wings. What is this? “A book about mystical creatures.” He turned the page, “I’ve never seen this before.”

"What… exactly are you two doing?" At the sound of my voice, Morgan's defiance instantly faltered, though his tail snapped straight up behind him. With a reluctant rip of fabric, he finally yanked his shirt off, voice tight with resentment. "Fine. Let's just get this over with." Unlike Eli, Morgan's build was obvious even through clothing. Shirtless, his sculpted, bronze-toned body radiated raw, masculine power—every muscle sharp and solid. Raw power… for what, exactly? I was completely lost.

“So, wait, you’re staying with Aris?” “Yeah,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice low even though I might be the first person to take an interest in this section of the archives in like a thousand years. I balance the heavy books, standing on my toes to peer over the shorter shelves toward the lamplight that seems like it’s leagues away. “It wasn’t my decision.” “Tell me again about this Morgan chick. She sounds awful.” “She’s… gorgeous. Tall and lean, you know, like the models in your fashion magazines.”

Then, with his thumbs, opened her sex to his gaze. Trembling, Morgan had never felt more vulnerable—or aroused. She dripped, arched to him, held her breath, waited. Jack could have no doubt that she responded to his demands, to the way he forced her legs apart, then stared at her sex as if he intended to eat it like a ripe peach.

He started day dreaming about her in the Throne room where everyone left him. 'But shes friends with that wretched boy' Morgan thought, 'Impossible. I shall make her mine!' He closed his fist. Morgan stood up from the couch then paused remembering a small detail about the Earth Triber lady that he had noticed: she had the eyes of a Pnevma. 'Shes a host...?' Morgan thought. Morgan went outside where he found his father sparing with his ward Aries. Aquarius sat on a rock watching his twin brother train with the king.

To say the least, this was elegant compared to what I’d had with the Moon Pack. Aesthetically and materialistically, it was gorgeous, but that wasn’t the reason I loved it. The reason I felt so serene in here was because this room was mine. I didn't have to worry about my father, Margaret, Mike, or anyone else barging in like they owned the place. Still, even with all the comfort and pleasantries at the ShadowClaw Pack, there was a mystery. That mystery was Arthur Morgan. It had been two weeks since we'd met but the memory had been burrowed into my mind. I couldn't forget the way his eyes roved over me; even in his cold manner, he touched me in more ways than one.

“It’s probably the defense system. You know the magic is weak in all of Arth.” “Something does not feel right.” “Let’s look in the coffin,” i said, making my way up the altar. “Careful,” Morgan hissed as I pushed open the cover. It slowly budged and finally gave way. With Ace's help, we opened the coffin and peeked inside. “Damn, he’s as fresh as the day he was born.” “And a lot more good-looking than I thought.” “You are a pervert, Ace.” I touched the corpse and gasped when my hand went through. “What the hell?”