Kris Tyson Nudes Novels & Stories

Everyone followed me closely, eager to witness the King of the East and his new shenanigan. I came to a slow halt as I noticed blood painting the floor outside the golden double doors of the throne room. I picked up my head and stared at the man in the distance. Tyson was sitting on the grey concrete seat that had golden engravings. He was only wearing his jeans, and the upper half of his body was bare. His legs were spread apart as he rested back on his throne. I saw the inked pattern on his chest and abdomen for the first time before my gaze shifted to his arms. His right hand rested on his thigh while his left wrist lay atop the long, glowing sword.

KRIS: I woke up on a hard and warm body, with an arm wound tightly around my waist. Mmm… A girl should wake up this way every morning... Waking up next to Tyler was almost the best feeling in the world. Eyes still closed, I stretched an arm over his taut washboard abs, letting out a contented sigh. With a smile etched on my face, I opened my eyes but I wasn't expecting what I saw. A tattooed chest.

LYRA Silence stretches, thick and suffocating, as if the walls themselves have closed in to witness the torment. Tania is on her knees, her forehead nearly resting on Lucas's shoes, her body shaking with sobs that ripple through the air around us. Lucas does not move. He gazes at her with a cold, fixed stare that terrifies me more than anger. It is not a burst, it is not an explosion. It is a quiet, patient cruelty that knows exactly where to press to inflict pain.

I had so much shit to figure out and no clue how to even prioritize any of it, but I knew one thing: I had to pee. And in my overthinking, I wasn’t paying attention when I wandered back to Tyler’s bathroom and yanked open the door. Heat from the shower hit me in the face, and the steam did nothing to hide the fact that— “Morning, princess.” Tyler Rogers was getting out of the shower, completely naked. And I mean, unabashedly, stark, butt-naked—full-frontal nudity. I screamed like I met that jumpscare, spinning around to nearly collide with the door. “Put clothes on, for fuck’s sake!” I shrieked.

I heard the distinct rustling of fabric, the unmistakable sound of his clothes hitting the floor, then the dip of the mattress as he climbed onto it. Fucking Artemis. It was totally his dick with a bow again. Not that his cock wasn’t a gift every single time he used it on me, but come on. The man needed to switch things up once in a while. “I’m getting impatient,” I warned. “Okay, open.” His voice dripped with amusement. So I did. And… holy fuck. Yes, Tyce was stretched out on the bed, naked, smirking, his very impressive erection sporting yet another damn bow.