Morgan Stark Nude Novels & Stories

“Do the honors.” Shawn slipped a USB from his pocket. “Better save this first. No telling if it’ll vanish.” He moved quickly. Keys clicked. Then the email opened. The room breathed in sharply as one. Photos filled the screen. Morgan, caught in a filthy brothel—not the sleek clubs we knew, but a low, stinking place. His trousers around his knees, women draped over him. In one frame, even a man. Everything exposed, spread deliberately. I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. God, no… And that was only the start.

My fingers shook as I clicked the most recent one. A video popped up. There he was. Marcus Kane. My mom’s new husband. My stepdad. Forty-three years old, built like he lifted weights for a living, with that sharp jaw and dark eyes that always made me look away too fast. But in the video, he wasn’t wearing the expensive shirts and watches he wore around the house. He was naked, cock thick and hard in his fist, stroking slow while a woman moaned on her knees in front of him.

He said, pressing the power button. Margo’s eyes flew open at the sudden vibrations. Her thighs clenched and her hips moved as a moan escaped her lips. Kane chuckled as he watched mouth open in surprise and her hips arch. “And this isn’t even the most intense setting.” He chuckled.

My brother and I both reluctantly nodded our now horned heads and sat back in the recliners to watch the show happening in the castle. Grace confusion galore I wake up laying on Mortas. I gritted my teeth and realized I'm naked and feel like I got fucked really well. I looked over at Mortas and he was smiling, I shuddered uncomfortably at the sight, it was truly frightening. His eyes opened and he looked at me with a twinkle in both of his eyes. "Good morning sweetheart," he coos and I growl low. "What did you do, did you drug me," I snapped, scrambling away from him, falling back off his bed and landing on the hard floor. His face peered over the mattress and his normal scowl was back.

Their lips never leave each other. Morrigan could feel her bodice coming loose as Colfre's hands focuses on untangling the strings of it. Allowing her body to breathe. And the next moment she knew her bodice fell flat on the ground with a soft thud, and Colfre's warm hand caresses her bareback. She pushes her hand in his shirt, pushing his tunic away from his torso. Stripping it off him. Their bare chests crashed each other. Colfre groaned as their bodies touch. Morrigan smiled at the thought of how she could make such an effect on him. Colfre reached towards the waist of her skirts, Morrigan helped him to remove the layers of skirts she wears. Till she has nothing on but a sheer skirt.

It was still two days until we were anywhere close to a village. “Shit, sorry.” Morgan was already awake and had stripped her dress off, standing in her panties and bra. I turned around quickly, because if I didn’t… Well, I didn’t need to see her naked. It was hard enough keeping my hands to myself as it was. Thirteen years of pent-up sexual tension was threatening to emerge, and I was having a hard time controlling not just mine, but also my wolf’s urges. “No need to apologize,” She mumbled, a rustle of fabric filling the thick air. “I hate to put a clean dress on over a dirty body. And I can still smell horse manure all over me. Please don’t do that again. You can turn around now.”

Not even remotely prepared for the vision standing in front of me. There’s Marcus. Half-naked. He’s not wearing a shirt, so all that sculpted muscle, his solid chest, the ridges of his abs—everything, is right there, on display like some walking, breathing sin. His hair is a messy crown, like he’s been dragging his fingers through it restlessly, and sure enough, he pushes one hand through it again, making it even messier in the most unfairly attractive way. And he’s wearing grey sweatpants. Just grey sweatpants.

Though he really needed to have a serious talk with her about modesty and how it wasn't appropriate for her to even risk being naked near a man, even if that man was her best friend and pretend husband. Sighing heavily, still trying to keep his mind from going far enough to cause a tree trunk to rise up in the front of his pants, Morgan felt Charlie shift beside him, just enough to get a little closer to him, pinning him against the wall. He theorized that she was sleeping and tossing and turning without realizing it, although he would never have the heart to turn her face to check. As things were going tonight, it was likely that she had her legs spread wide, giving him a privileged view of

The next second, Ashley screamed, and all the drowsiness disappeared in an instant. In front of her is a picture of a handsome man just out of the bath. He has wheat-colored skin and a tall and slender figure, the muscles of the chest, arms, and lower abdomen are fit and well-proportioned, and the proportions of the inverted triangle are perfect and impeccable. A bath towel is loosely tied around the waist, and the mermaid line is obvious and sexy. Ashley widened her eyes and pointed at the half-naked Morgan Blackstorm, "You...you..."

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “But I am your Luna” I replied, frowning. “I know baby, but the elders are very traditional, and we’re not official yet,” he reasoned. I sat up, turning my back to him. He pushed his hair away from his face. “Fine,” Morgan muttered, standing to dress. I followed his every movement, admiring his hard beautiful back and round butts. His body has healed nicely. The only thing visible were scars. It was like a miracle had occurred in the night.