Mark Thomas Nudes Novels & Stories

"I am going to help you. Why? I am not sure." Slowly I walk Thomas into the bathroom and peel his vomit-covered shirt off his body. I don't know what I was expecting when I took off his shirt but my mouth gaped open with surprise. His chest is perfectly bulky and perfectly chiseled. There is a patch of hair right in the center of his chest that I am dying to reach out and touch. A large tribal tattoo covers the right side of his chest and shoulder. As I look at him, I wipe my chin because I know that I am drooling.

Drake says; I hear him laughing behind as I forcefully drag my nightgown; I faced him again, still in my nakedness… "Tell me Drake; why are you here?" I said; I pointed a finger at him… "Sorry Maria; but I came here for something"Drake said; he got up from the bed; and he is approaching me; I take my feet back; scared as I continue to move away; until I hit my back on the wall; Drake walk in; he hold his hand to my face; and his eyes go down; as he stares at my nude body… "Can you tell me what you came here to do; Drake?"

was Thomas’s reply. “Thomas,” I moaned again as he dips his hand between my legs playing with my clit. “If you don’t hush I will have to make you,” he breathed against my neck where my mark is. He has never touched my mark from my previous mate. He believes that it is disrespect to my mate to use it for any pleasure purposes. I wiggled against his hand begging him to enter me. I didn’t realize how much I really needed sex until that moment.

I screamed out, the sound echoing in the empty study. Thomas didn't make me wait. He unbuckled his leather belt with one hand, his trousers dropping down as his huge, thick dick broke free. It was massive, dark, and fully throbbing with pre-cum. He grabbed my right leg, lifting it up and hooking it over his strong hip, opening my wet entrance completely to his view. "Look at me," he commanded, his eyes dark with pure, sinful hunger. I looked straight into his mature face, gasping for air in the dim candlelight.

“Do you always show up like that? On cue?” He smirked. “Only for girls who don’t give out their numbers.” The door creaked open again behind us, and this time it wasn’t some drunk dude with weak game—it was the rest of the band. Teddy straightened as they stepped out, nodding toward the tall guy with jet-black hair pulled back in a low bun. “That’s Thomas—drummer, chaos coordinator, walking tattoo gallery.” Thomas gave a lazy salute, both arms on full display—ink from wrist to shoulder, bold lines and dark florals that looked like they might move if he did.

This was just … fun. When I glanced back over to make eye contact, they were gone and were sliding into the seats beside me, one on each side. Arms covered with tattoos, Thomas wore a short-sleeved henley shirt that hugged every one of his muscles, and Hudson had his dark hair slicked with grease and a white button-up shirt that looked to be a size too small for him. But I didn’t complain. “Back again,” Thomas said, his entire body turned toward me. I noticed the death stares from all the single ladies in the room.