Harry Enten Gay Novels & Stories

The effect was immediate. Kael cried out as his back arched violently, his body seizing. Ethan felt the hot pulse of Kael's release over his fingers. He felt the intense and rhythmic clenching around his cock like it was his own. It tipped him over the edge. With a choked groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his vision whiting out. The pleasure was like a relentless wave, crashing through him, pulling him under as he spilt into the condom, his hips jerking through the aftershocks, riding out the pulses of his climax against the convulsing heat of Kael's body. ..... Embark on a journey of seduction and passion with these collections of fan stories that will leave you breathless and begging for more. From forbidden romances to dangerous liaisons, each tale explores the depths of desire and the power of lust.

Ashley is back into his hometown to settle down for good only to have the misfortune of living with this obnoxiously handsome CEO of Potent Club Brewery, Trent Xavier Easton who also happened to have a secret identity of his own.Read as feelings bloom and emotions gets ahead of these young men and as secrets of their past intertwine with one another with fates controlling the flow of their lives.Will they reach a happy ever after? Or will their love story be denied by the destiny... again?

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his cock—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he fucks my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but fuck, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and cum, red rooms equipped for flogging, bondage, edging, and total power exchange. Expect graphic, immersive scenes of throat-fucking, ass-pounding, breeding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

While I'm poisoned with wolfsbane, a female Omega named Rita Thorne has accused me of being a traitor of the pack. But my husband, Fenrir Grimm, refuses to listen to my explanation. As he holds Rita in his arms, he tells me icily, "Cynthia Huntley, you're no longer worthy of being my Luna. From today onward, Rita shall replace you as the Luna. You, on the other hand, shall be exiled from the pack." Not only does Rita brand a mark of humiliation on my face, but she also secretly swaps out the antidote for the wolfsbane with something else. She wants me to die as a disfigured she-wolf. I don't want to, nor am I willing to accept this fate. The moment before Death embraces me fully, I pray to the Moon Goddess desperately. When moonlight illuminates the land, I hear the Moon Goddess's loving voice. "Cynthia, you're given 48 more hours to live."

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

The freshman welcome party was loud—music blasting, people screaming over it. Then the external pacemaker on my chest started shrieking. 10 percent battery. Cold sweat hit fast. I always carried a backup. Always. I yanked open my backpack. No heavy medical battery pack. Just a flimsy power bank. One blinking bar.

Greer was never meant to exist. Hybrids like her are executed at birth, erased before they can become a problem. Smuggled out of the pack as a newborn, Greer grows up human, unaware of what she is or what will happen when her wolf awakens. Until she meets the Alpha. Rurik knows exactly what she is the moment he scents her. A contamination. A death sentence. A mistake that should have been corrected decades ago. Her first heat is not pleasure. It’s a biological catastrophe. One that nearly kills her. One Rurik knows cannot be soothed, only endured. When the pack comes to finish what should have been done at her birth, Rurik stops the blade with three words. She survived him. Claimed instead of executed, Greer learns the truth too late. Rurik didn’t save her because she deserves to live. He saved her because she might survive his heat. And if she doesn’t, the sentence will still be carried out. By him. Dark paranormal erotica. Explicit. Dangerous. Consent under biological pressure. Survival not guaranteed.

After my younger brother died, my parents and grandfather all killed themselves. Each of them died in a different way, but they shared one thing in common: Before their deaths, every one of them had read my brother's suicide note. And in that note, there was only a single sentence. Reporters fought for a chance to interview me. The police interrogated me overnight. Countless people wanted to know what that sentence said. But I never told anyone. Until the tenth anniversary of my brother's death, when I saw a figure standing in front of his grave. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of excitement. Because I knew my turn had finally come.

At dinner, Tiffany White grabs my fiance's phone and spends 100 thousand dollars on a designer bag. She even sticks her tongue at me. "Come on, Meredith. You're loaded. You won't mind such a small amount, right? Shawn and I share everything. His money is my money," she says. Everyone at the table waits for me to lose my temper or smile and let it slide like a saint. Instead, I calmly take out a voice recorder and my laptop from my bag and adjust my gold-rimmed glasses. "100 thousand meets the threshold for criminal filing. Since you said you two share everything, I have to ask—is this embezzlement or an illegal transfer tied to an improper personal relationship? "Oh, and what you just said about 'his money is my money'? I recorded that. According to the supplemental clauses in our prenup and the company bylaws, I'm officially initiating an asset-freezing order against Shawn Harrison." I turn to Tiffany. "Enjoy your free meals in prison, Ms. White." Shawn is livid. "It was just a joke, Meredith. Is it really necessary to ruin me over this?" I hit the "enter" key. "Sorry. In my book, there are no jokes—only bad debt."

"I didn't do anything wrong," I choked out. "You stuck your nose into my private matters," he hissed. "No one can sentence me without proof," I challenged him. He straightened up. Any traces of a smile abruptly disappeared from his face. "You still don't get it, do you? I own this city. It means that if I say you go to jail, that means you go to jail." He leaned over me again, his stare piercing right through me, "And if I say that I want you, that means you are already mine." My jaw tensed as I resisted an urge to talk back. This wasn't a battle I could win, and this wasn't a man I could win against... How did I get myself into all that mess?! *** My name is Cora Bell, and I'm about to marry Aren Lan, New York's most wanted bachelor. A dream come true? I highly doubt that. The guy is an arrogant, wealthy beyond imagination, asshole. Not to mention that our relationship is based solely on a contract, a contract I was forced to sign when I accidentally ruined this guy's engagement... I used to dream of a simple life. I wanted to graduate from university and work as a software programmer, but my fate chose a different path for me to follow. First, I had to give up on my studies to take care of dear Grandma, and now I'm forced to play the role of a manipulative jerk's loving fiancée! The problem is that my husband-to-be is insanely sexy and enjoys teasing me a bit too much. How the hell am I going to survive being close to him throughout the two years of our fake marriage?!