Christopher Cote Nude Novels & Stories

Vincent's POV I poured myself more wine and remained seated in silence in the living room when suddenly my phone buzzed on the cushion beside me. I glanced at the screen. The contact name read: The Gravedigger. I picked it up and opened the message immediately. There it was. A video of Christopher's nude and pictures. Clear— Crisp— Undeniable— Front facing— And perfectly delivered. The kind of image that only came from someone on the inside with full access.

Everything was for her. And then there he was. Cassian stood shirtless, his body a map of power—defined chest, lean muscle, a line of ink that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. He held a leash in one hand. The other held a camera. “You’re late,” he said. She wasn’t, but she didn’t argue. She let the coat fall from her shoulders and stepped forward completely naked, the plug glinting under the light. Cassian’s lips twitched.

Christophe advanced, amused by her question. Intent golden eyes lazily skimmed over the full thrust of her breasts and the rounded swell of her hips. A deep flush warmed her skin. He stripped off his shirt and cast it carelessly aside. He had a truly magnificent torso. Her tongue stole out to moisten her dry lips as he embarked on his jeans. She expected him to reveal swimming briefs beneath but Christophe skimmed off down to bare golden flesh. “I never wear anything when I’m swimming, chérie.” “Oh… So I see.”

“C-Cole..” “Mmm... You are so fûcking responsive, princess.” He sucked my wetness off his fingertips before he swiped those fingers on my nîpple, in the melted cream and then licked it off too. “I am going to have a feast.” With a wicked glint in his dark brown eyes that swirled like melted desire, he stood up and unbuttoned his shirt before shrugging it off, exposing his wide, bronze chest that I admired and looked at like a kid watching his favorite superhero come to life.

“What?” Christine reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small stack of photos. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them onto the floor, where they fanned out as I stared, my blood turning to ice at the images. The images were me and Francis, naked on the bed, captured in moments I’d thought were private. My face burned, shame and fury warring within me as I looked at the evidence of our affair scattered at my feet.

I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off, along with my boxers, never breaking eye contact. Christopher's gaze traveled over every inch of me, slow and thorough. Good, he murmured. Now touch yourself. What? You heard me. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall open. I want to watch you touch yourself while I get undressed. Heat flooded through me, but I did what he asked. My hand wrapped around myself, and Christopher's eyes tracked the movement, his breathing getting heavier. That's it, he said, shrugging off his shirt completely. Just like that. Show me how much you want this.

The scene that greets me would be artistic if it wasn't so goddamn typical. Cole stands in front of an easel, completely naked except for the wine glass in his hand. A woman—also naked—poses on a velvet chaise, her body arranged in some classical position that probably has a fancy art term I don't know. Drugs are scattered across every surface. Pills, powder, God knows what else. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," I snarl. Cole doesn't even turn. Just takes a leisurely sip of wine and adds another brush stroke to his canvas. "Ah. My darling boy is here."

Then Chris stripped off his black coat, then the black cashmere sweater underneath, revealing a powerful, well-built upper body. Dominic sucked in a breath. “Have you been training harder lately? You were already built enough before. Did you really need to take it this far?” Just look at those pecs. Those arms. What was this, was he planning to compete for Mr. Universe? “Wait.” At first, Dominic didn’t notice anything strange. Then Chris lifted a hand and placed two long fingers just below his Adam’s apple. And then something horrifying happened. As Chris dragged his fingers downward, the skin across his chest slowly split open to either side.

“Why don’t we both remove our clothes from the waist up and we can explore each other’s bodies, finding out what we both like, where we like being touched, how we like being touched. What do you think of that?” “That sounds fun,” I say, sitting up. Cohen leans forward, pulling his shirt off. I’ve seen him without his clothes on before. Nudity isn’t something that is unusual in the werewolf world, unless you are one of the youngest daughters to my father and have three older brothers that snarl at anyone that even begins to look at you when you’re naked. So, I’ve seen Cohen naked, but I’m not sure he’s ever seen me naked and this close, I feel embarrassed. But he’s my mate and I want to do th

She had never liked this part; when she had to get undressed in front of DeAngelo and she would imagine that he wished she was someone else… Christopher's cock jumped when Ashleigh came out of her jeans, she, with her toasty brown skin and the black see-through nylon underwear that showed her hardened nipples. And when she was just down to panties and he could see that she was hairless and the slight impression of her slit, he could honestly wait no longer. He moved to the bed and she followed, about to reach behind herself to undo the bra but he stopped her hand. He didn't want her to remove the enticing material. The two of them knelt on the bed facing each other and Christopher ran his ha