Is Walking Dead Jesus Gay

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?

Isabella had a perfect life. She had love, money, and a strong family name but on her birthday, everything broke. She finds her husband with another woman. Then she learns the truth, her marriage was a lie. He used her to take her company. He never loved her. In one night, Isabella loses everything. She runs for her life. She is hunted, shot, and left to die. But fate wasn’t done with her. Six months later, she wakes up in a new country with a new face. The world thinks she is dead. But a stranger saves her and gives her a new name, a new life. Now, Isabella is gone. A new woman rises. She has no power. No past. No fear. Only one goal—Revenge.

A Royal Affair, A Royal Betrayal, A Royal Revenge Lyrielle lost everything after she was accused of cheating and murder. She was rejected by her husband, and her family was sentenced and brutally murdered by the royal family of Mecianda. They sentenced her to burn alive too, but Arineth, the bastard prince of Mecianda and the fated mate she had rejected, saved her life—not out of love, but revenge against his own family who had betrayed him and exiled him. Together they swore to destroy Mecianda, not as Lyrielle and Arineth, but as the king and queen of Katula Kingdom.

He killed their marriage on a stage. She faked her death on the road. Five years ago, Cassian Wolfe—a man who never believed in love—married Leah Quinn to close a deal. On their anniversary, he closed their marriage. Publicly. Brutally. Hours later, she was “dead.” But Leah didn’t die. She vanished—helped by the last person Cassian would ever suspect: his elder brother. Now she’s back. Not as Leah. But as Raven with a new face, a billion-dollar company, and a son Cassian doesn’t know exists. Her mission? Burn down everything with the Wolfe name. When Cassian meets the mysterious new CEO of a fast-rising rival firm, he feels an inexplicable pull. He doesn’t know she’s his late wife. But when the truth slowly unravels—piece by piece—he realizes what he lost… and that he’ll do anything to get her back. Even if she hates him. Even if she’s engaged to his brother.

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

Three years ago, Avery Thorne married Julian Sterling for love. Today, she found out she was actually a human blood bank. While Avery sat in a hospital bed, Julian was busy transferring her patents, her fortune, and her very name to his mistress, Sarah. By the time the divorce papers were signed, the legal system no longer recognized Avery’s face. To the world, she is a delusional stalker named Sarah Vance. To Julian, she is a loose end that needs to be buried. Arrested and erased from her own life, Avery is left with nothing but fifty dollars and the knowledge of every security flaw in the empire she built. But Julian made one fatal mistake: he left her alive. From the shadows of the city she once owned, Avery begins a cold and calculated war. She isn't just coming back for her money or her company—she is coming back for her soul. And this time, she won't be the one bleeding.

The human traffickers were apprehended, and after DNA verification, the police returned me to my affluent parents. My parents gave a cold nod, thanked the officers, and instructed the butler to make me comfortable. Two months after returning home, the fake heiress, Irene Burrel, secretly signed me up for a wilderness survival course. My parents gently stroked her head. “Since you want to play, let her accompany you.” They did not care one bit if I died out there. Irene smirked triumphantly at me. “What does it matter if you’re the real heiress? I can still do whatever I want with you! “Survival training is my daily routine. I’ll make sure you leave that competition on a stretcher!” When we arrived at the wilderness training grounds in the mountains, I laughed. I grew up in these very forests. Did she think I did not know this place?

"I’m here for you, always, Leora." That was the promise Theron made before he stole her kiss. But promises can be broken. And in Crestwood, betrayal is deadlier than love. The Moon Pendant marked Leora as the rightful Luna before she could even walk. Hidden in the human world all her life, she is dragged back to claim her throne—only to discover that the crown comes with chains. To unlock her wolf, Leora must choose a mate. Every wolf wants her. Every elder demands it. But her heart keeps pulling toward the one man she cannot have—the warrior sworn to protect her. When her love awakens her long-buried power, enemies close in and Leora realizes the harsh truth. The man she loves most is the one fated to destroy her.

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.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.