Leland Coyle X Reader Novels & Stories

He carefully placed the little boy's head on the bed, he adjusted the bed covers gently before throwing an annoyed glare at the Beta and Gamma before leaving the room. " Ohh..that was so close." Cole said, dramatically breathing heavily. " Dumb head!" Xander scoffed, picking a magazine. Cole gave him an hard smack on his head before taking a glance at the magazine xander held. The latter was just opening the pages without going through the contents of each page. " Damn, this human girls are quite hot." Cole whistled like a playboy he was. " Fool, our girls are way more hotter than them." Xander replied, without taking his eyes from the magazine.

I ride. It is obscene. I am bouncing on him in his study chair, tits out, his cum from twice already making every stroke a filthy suck of sound. My clit drags his stomach. I am dripping onto his pants. The chair whispers. The door is still cracked. I can hear plates in the kitchen. I can hear Mom humming. Cole takes the notebook and reads the rest of page three against my ear while I fuck myself on him. “I want to come on his cock with the door open. I want to be a disgusting secret in a house that thinks I am helping with paperwork.”

The sight of it brought back a flood of memories, bittersweet and poignant. “You are a lover of dark romance?” I asked, narrowing my eyes in shock. The question hung in the air, almost surreal. Cole looked at me and then at the cover of the book. “Yes, I am. I’m actually a lover of dark romance and I really like this book. I have read it before, but then I just skim through some pages when I’m bored or better still when I want to reconnect back with the characters,” Cole said, his voice filled with a quiet passion. Gosh, he was using the exact words I would have used if I was the one asked the question.

And Cole startled out of a not-quite-daydream to find a…well, there was no nice way to say it, a twitchy, rat-like man in a leather jacket taking photos of them from the other side of the street. "Who's this, Ellie?” he called out. “A friend,” she threw back. “Now fuck off.” “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” “Oh suuure. This is Billy Boyle, an independent photojournalist. And this”—she flapped a laconic hand in Cole’s direction—“is none of your fucking business.” “You know I’ll find out anyway.” “And you know I’ll set your car on fire.” “I love it when you get feisty.” He gave a frankly creepy shiver.

And drug both himself and JD across the slick floor. Cooper sat down on the couch and picked up the Omega-verse paperback romance novel that was on the cushion. He knew the author and had several of their books on his e-reader. Not that he would admit that. Unknown to most, he had two e-readers, the one that he read around everyone else, and the one that he read in the privacy of his small apartment. “This yours?” He asked Dean as he held up the book so she could see it. “Technically, it’s Cheryl’s. I already finished it. Is the bookmark blue or green?” Dean replied as she and JD worked on the sandwiches.

Then he shrugged in the philosophical way of children who have decided adults are strange, and trotted away down the hall, calling for Rhys. Lena's gaze followed him out. Then, almost idly, it moved to the foyer beyond the doorway ... where Finn had just come into view. He'd been crossing to the stairs. He stopped when he saw Cole. He crouched to say a word, one hand steadying the boy's shoulder, and Cole nodded and leaned in and whispered something, and Finn, gravely, whispered something back. They were not alike, at that distance. Not in size or manner. But Lena Harrow had spent years reading power for a living. She read them as one might read a page: swiftly, completely, in the space betw

Cole Xander stirred his espresso and suddenly nudged my arm. “Do you know her?” he asked. I didn’t respond right away, my gaze still fixed on the scene unfolding before me. Xander let out a low chuckle. "Damn, Cole. I’ve never seen you look at a woman like that before. No matter how beautiful she is, you don’t have to keep staring.” His eyes narrowed playfully. “When did you start taking an interest in anything other than business?"

I use that warmth like a handhold while I stand on the east wall and receive reports in thin pieces. The rider’s name, when we get it, is Cole. Not a plain coat. A contractor of convenience. He sleeps above a chandler’s shop in a hamlet that smells, Wren notes dryly, like the room Seraphine used near Crane’s quay in earlier weeks. Pattern, not proof. Still a direction.

Cole stood at the foot of the bed and looked at me for a long moment, eyes moving over the flush already climbing my chest, the way my nipples had tightened, the shiny trail of cum on my thigh. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears. They undressed without hurry. The soft rustle of fabric. The muted sound of belts and zippers. When Rylan pulled his shirt over his head, the broad plane of his chest caught the light. Evander’s scar stood out pale against his forearm. Cole’s height made the room feel smaller once he was bare. Liam took the chair by the glass wall. He did not undress. He only watched, eyes dark, one hand resting on his thigh.

I cried even as I raged inside, making fists around the fabric of his T-shirt while my demon howled and Shaylee softly wept. So. Not. Fair. When I pulled away at last, snuffling, I accepted the wad of tissues Liam shoved into my hands. I blew my nose noisily before dropping into the seat Sassy vacated. I scooted sideways and retrieved the book he'd been reading, not wanting to damage it, especially after how kind Liam was being. Wouldn't do to ruin one of his prized books. The red cover of the demon raising tome felt odd in my hands. It was only then, staring down at the fine pores in the texture of the material I really knew what I was holding.