Morgan Stark Nude Novels & Stories

John grasped the hem of her gown and raised it, completely removing it from her body. Morgan giggled, relishing the graze of his fingers on her skin. After removing her dress, he went for her bra and unhooked it then flung it off her breasts. Her breasts looked so beautiful and plump with those pink nipples that made them look more like cupcakes with cherries on top. John swallowed hard and quickly removed his clothes. Morgan batted her eyelashes as she stared at his sexy abs, he was so attractive. His real physique was so carefully hidden behind those baggy suits and silly clothes he usually wears.

A gloomy, icy presence. I know I'm not alone when I feel a tingling feeling at the base of my head. Moretti has arrived. He hangs his towel next to mine and turns on the shower across from me. He is completely nude. He is obviously nude. Everyone takes a nude shower. That’s not my point. I'm trying to say, fuck. Again, what am I trying to say? Yes. It's Moretti. He's taking his time organising his toiletries on his shelf while he stands across from me. He has his back to me, and my goodness, he's built like a tank.

he Dared I tensed, my pulse quickening. Nudity wasn’t a big deal for werewolves; we stripped freely before shifting, often in the presence of others. But I? I have never been naked before anyone apart from Alpha Nathan. “Easy task.” Luna Moroti gracefully stood up and slowly began taking off her clothes. My eyes drifted to the man beside her, and I was expecting him to look angry or annoyed, at least, but he wasn’t. Instead, he had an amused smirk on his face.

There are so many things he should be considering right now, but his eyes are glued to her ass and indecent thoughts were roaming through his mind, which he's trying to block out, knowing it's not a good thing. It's so perverted to imagine a woman that clearly want him off, naked in front of him as he, doing some pleasuring on her heavenly body….. Damn it! He realized he had stylishly completed his imagination in his own head. They are finally outside the entrance of a restroom and Morgana turned to leave, but Drake took his chances. In an instant, she was backed against the wall with his hands at each sides of her, making her unable to escape. She furiously gaze into his eyes.

***NATE*** “Yeah, you should probably get going,” I said to Morgan as he struggled out of bed. “Now I don’t want to leave,” he said as he grudgingly found his way up on his feet. “Come on, hit the shower!” I said to him and he just groaned and walked into the shower but naked from last night.

She tried again, but she don't know what was wrong with the zipper, because it wouldn't move at all when pulled. "Uh, damn, come on!" Sarena grumbled to herself. "Sarena, are you still in there?" Morgan knocked on his bedroom door while asking. "I'll make breakfast, what do you want to eat?" Sarena gave up on the stubborn zipper of her dress and she took several breaths to calm herself and kept a straight face, as she opened the bedroom door. Morgan was standing in the doorway of the room, wearing only pantaloons and nothing on top, showing a fit body, with muscles in the right places, broad chest, stomach shaped like torn bread and tan skin. Exotic.

Drake was standing stark naked in the dead center of the room. The light from his bedside lamp cast long, amber shadows across his physique. He was built with a lean, swimmer’s musculature, broad shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist and hips etched with deep V-lines. His skin was pale but flushed, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat that caught the light. His chest was defined, the muscles jumping with every heavy breath he took. He was better than when I had peaked at him three years ago. His hands were occupied, wrapped firmly around his length as he worked himself. I could hear the tinny, rhythmic sounds of a pornographic video playing from his phone, which he held loosely in o

****** Xavier sat on his couch, his gaze fixed on the led plasma television hung in his extravagantly furnished sitting room. He was about to turn it off and leave for work, when a headline caught his attention. YOUNG MASTER MORGAN WAS SEEN WITH A WOMAN LAST NIGHT AT A NIGHTCLUB. AS THE WOMAN'S FACE REMAINS UNKNOWN, NETIZENS WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHO THE WOMAN IS…. Xavier frowned, his mind drifting back to the girl he saw in the hospital, as Morgan's wife. Could she really be Morgan's wife? They didn't even have a wedding…Who exactly was this girl?

A genuine smile grazed hee chest for the first time in 30 minutes through the ride home. He took her purse from her and led her into the spacious ceiling to floor living room, where she met Drystan shirtless. . “Welcome back, Sunshine.”Drystan deep baritone was both taunting and inviting but what was more inviting was….. Her breath stilled, and her eyes ran around his body. He stood there—shirtless, his sculptured torso, a masterpiece of power and restraint. The black sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. teasing at the lethal strength beneath. And in his hands? A pair of weapons, gleaming under the light like the forbidden promise.

My chest tightened painfully, and I dropped the phone like it had burned me. “No…” I picked it up again, forcing myself to look. It was Morgan. The first picture showed him near the backdoor of the hall, talking to Farrow. Her face was plastered with a foolish smile, and her body language screamed flirtation. My fingers trembled as I swiped to the next photo. This one was worse. Morgan was holding her hand, leading her to the dance floor. The third, fourth, and fifth pictures were a series of shots that showed them dancing—clinging to each other like they were having sex.