Leigh Christian Nude Novels & Stories

Not to mention, I even dared to touch him just now! I could hear his footsteps getting closer, causing me to bend my back forward and lower my head even more. My heart beats in anticipation the moment his feet stopped in front of me. I refused to even breathe. Ever so closely, he leans down to whisper on my ear. "Unless you want me to bend you further and take you from behind, I suggest you stand straight already, Luna Leaxandra." I stood straight in an instant, even shifting to the farthest side of the room with my back on the wall out of instincts. He's fucking crazy, that's why.

There was nothing like live p**n. Chase McKay rested his shoulders against the cheap headboard, taking a long pull off his beer as he settled in for the show. The naked blonde with the huge rack balanced on her knees, head thrown back as the naked brunette, with an equally impressive set of double D’s, feasted noisily on her nipples. When the blonde—Lanae, or was it Renee?—grabbed the brunette’s head, trying to force her to take more of her nipple into her mouth, the brunette—Leah, or was it Gia?—smacked her ass.

He froze for a second, drinking in the sight. “What’s all this?” he asked, voice already rough. “The wine?” Daniella’s lips trembled slightly, but her voice came out steady. “It’s for drinking.” Christian’s gaze darkened with hunger. He stripped quickly, pulling off his jacket, shirt, trousers, until he stood completely naked. His muscular body was on full display broad shoulders, defined abs, thick thighs. His heavy cock hung between his legs, already hardening, balls dangling as he walked toward the bed with predatory grace.

"Does my greedy girl need to be bred again?" I whimper in response, barely able to contain myself. Yes. Yes, I fucking need it! "Nina, I said take pictures for the page, not their Onlyfans." My brother's irritated voice makes all our heads snap up. Christine's on his arm, dressed in a leather jacket with Gray's property patch and leather pants so tight, I can practically see the outline of her pussy. "Trust me, prez. I know what I'm doing," Nina replies calmly, but I can tell she's fighting back a laugh.

They were standing side by side, Brian had his arm around her shoulders, they were both smiling into the camera. From an innocent point of view, which was the lens Luna was looking at the picture from, there was nothing untoward going on between the two of them. The pose was casual, friendly even, but there was nothing sexual about it. Except if you were going by the heading sprawled in big block letters above the picture. It read BRIAN LAKE GETS HOT AND HEAVY WITH HOT MODEL KEHLANI RIVERS! Luna scoffed in disgust, she shook her head. And then she pointed at the article as an idea formed in her head.

There stood Lyn, frozen in place, staring at his naked body. Lyn was unable to move, she could only stare at the naked Chris in front of her. She looked at him front top to bottom then her eyes stayed stuck fixated on his groin area. Chris was an older man, made late forties or early fifties, but boy was he ripped. His biceps and pectoral muscles were chiseled and defined. He had washboard abs and a V shaped waist. his thigh muscles were lean and he was very well endowed. It did not help that he groomed his pubic hair, giving his privates no coverage. All she could do was stare and lust after the man she was looking at. It wasn't until he spoke she took her eyes away from his man parts.

Chelsea was frozen to her bones. Her gaze was fixed on the man for almost a minute after she heard him call her birth name. It was a name that seemed as distant as the life attached to it. Laura Christian was a version of her that died several years ago. The death of that version bore life to who she was now, Chelsea Landore.

Lyra The morning crushes me before I even put a foot out of bed. The phone vibrates incessantly on my nightstand, like a frantic heart unable to find a normal rhythm. I reach out, numb, my eyes still glued shut by fatigue, and unlock it. Notifications pour down. Messages, missed calls, tags, press alerts. And that headline, in capital letters, icy, brutal: ALTERCATION BETWEEN TWO POWERHOUSES, ALEXANDRE DELCOURT AND DANIEL RENZI ON THE BRINK OF CONFRONTATION OVER A WOMAN?

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.

Marks of ownership. Leon swallowed hard. His nipples tightened from the cold and the shame twisting inside him. He unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one motion. His cock sprang free, already flushed and leaking. He kicked the clothes aside and stood completely naked in front of the camera, hands clenched at his sides. For a moment he just breathed, chest rising and falling. Then he climbed onto the bed.