Kanasiu Nudes Novels & Stories

For a second, I can’t do anything but stare. They’re all standing together, their jeans pulled open just enough to free their c*cks, like it’s nothing. Groaning under my breath, I swipe to the next image. It’s Mason, sitting in a leather chair, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. He’s naked, leaning back, one hand wrapped around himself. The tattoos on his hand trail up to his arm, and when I look closer, I spot the metal piercing through the top of his c*ck.

I don't know, feel confused. When I step into the tub, I step right in, pulling my hair up and watching Kaanadan return with two towels. He was already shirtless, and by the red light, he looks so much sexier that my core throbs in reaction. Then I see him pull down his pants, the bulge much more present now, and when his underwear comes down... I guess I shouldn't see that. But he saw me! Kaanadan is carved in full detail. Really a Greek God.

His eyes take in every curve of my body as he licks his lips and smirks. Suddenly, Kane drops his jeans and boxers and tosses them aside. I turn away and squeeze my eyes shut. If that's even possible, my cheeks burn even more than my body. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. Quit it, kitten; you get to look. I won't bite... Hard," Kane chuckles. I know he's teasing me, but that's exactly what I do. Kane's tan skin and muscular body seem to have no end. His stomach is flat, clearly defined, and I believe he has muscles on muscles.

“I demand—” “You demand nothing,” Kane interjected, finally shifting back into human form and stood next to me completely nude but somehow looked even more intimidating without clothes. “You have no power here anymore. You’re only alive right now because my mate is more merciful than you’ve ever been to anyone else. You should be thankful instead of outraged.”

Professor Kane stared at us like he didn't know what to do. Joan and I stood there completely naked in the middle of his office, clothes in a heap by the door. Our skin was still flushed pink and shiny with sweat from what we’d done together. My inner thighs were slick from my own juices and the cum he’d pumped into me earlier. Joan’s pussy lips were puffy and glistening. Her nipples were rock hard, and she was breathing fast, looking half scared and half horny.

Kane opened the door wearing only low-hanging grey sweatpants, his sculpted chest and abs on full display, the prominent bulge already obvious. He didn’t speak. He simply pulled her inside, kicked the door shut, and shoved her against it. Clothes were torn off in a frenzy. Kane dropped to his knees, threw one of her legs over his shoulder, and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue licked long stripes from her entrance to her clit, sucking her swollen nub while two thick fingers plunged inside her cum-slick hole.

There were various poses, none of them displaying her pussy because her legs were crossed; it was the one classy thing about the pictures. She was surrounded by a variety of models, male and female, all displaying themselves. They were naked. The men’s cocks were erect. Kisses were exchanged between men and women, women and women, men and men. Fingers curled around and into sex organs. Penetration of all orifices was shown, penetration by fingers and cocks and toys. All the slaves surrounding Solange had nipple rings, male and female. Solange pulled the reference photos from the booklet and scattered them over the table. “You can see what I’m looking for, can’t you?”

Renowned artist Lucian Vale, is a 42 years old perfectionist with a dark reputation. He needs the perfect muse for his most provocative collection yet. When 23 years old aspiring model Joshua Hart walks into his private studio, Lucian knows he’s found more than just a body, he’s found raw, uninhibited inspiration. What begins as classical nude poses quickly spirals into explicit, boundary pushing sessions filled with erotic poses, intense oral worship, masturbation, and eventually full gangbang scenes orchestrated by the artist himself. In Lucian’s world, art and lust are inseparable, and Elias is willing to surrender everything, his body, his limits, and his pleasure to become the ultimate

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.

"I think I'm going to miss this the most." "My ass?" "Cuddling. Jeez, get your head out of the damn gutter." I snorted out a laugh and smacked his chest. "But yeah, your ass too. I'm going to require about five nudes a day to get me by. Should I write it in a contract?" "Five?" "About five, yeah." "I only have my boobs, ass, and v*gina. I don't have five parts." "One t*t, then the other, p*ssy pic, ass pic, and then maybe a pic of full frontal."