Steamy Men Novels & Stories

Everyone in the pack knows Marcus has loved me for a decade—that I'm his destined mate. He's devastatingly handsome and brilliant, the youngest and most gifted pack healer we've ever had, with she-wolves practically throwing themselves at his feet. Yet this alpha prince has eyes only for me. But when I was nearly assaulted by a rapist, Marcus signed a settlement agreement on my behalf and issued a psychiatric diagnosis, condemning me to a mental institution. Inside the institution, I was attacked by the truly insane—they tore at my hair with clawed fingers and kicked my stomach until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, he held the rapist's sister Victoria close and told me: "Emma, I'll take care of you. I'll compensate you when you get out, but Victoria has severe depression. She can't handle her brother getting in trouble." Even more ridiculous—when I begged him to let me see my suicidal sister one last time, he was honeymooning with that woman in Iceland, hanging up on my eighty-nine calls. The day my sister died, I coughed up blood in that mental hospital. Three years later, he came to get me, saying he still wanted to bring me home as his mate. Looking at his careful demeanor, I suddenly laughed. Marcus, do you know? No matter how high the mental hospital walls are, they can't stop someone who's crawled back from hell for revenge. What you owe me, what you owe my sister—I'll collect it all with interest, using what you care about most.

My foster sister Sophia, the last purebred white wolf in Grell village, was raped and tortured to death by an unknow rogue wolf. Her suicide note contained only one sentence: "Lina saw his face." From that day on, I became the pack's greatest sinner. Because I knew who the killer was, but I kept silent for five years. Until my foster brother Damien, the most powerful Alpha in North America, returned. He brought back the Soul Vision Device and forcibly extracted memories from my werewolf soul. All the werewolves who had the Soul Vision Device used on them either died or went insane. My werewolf was repeatedly tortured in the device, but Damien suppressed the pain in his eyes and roared, "When I find the truth, I'll send you and the murderer to hell together." But when they finally discovered the truth, Damien went mad.

“Peter, is my form alright?” I was teaching my goddaughter, Irene Anderson, the right form for swimming in the pool. When she bent over, her behind accidentally bumped into my groin. It felt as if an electric current had run through me. What made me more excited was how unfamiliar she was with swimming. She floundered around until her bikini bottom fell off. I rushed over to help her. However, she struggled terribly as she tried to hug me, and our hips were tightly pressed together. Meanwhile, her biological father was looking at us from the side.

"Mr. Hill, I feel so itchy! My dad has already left, so hurry up and scratch my itch for me with your finger!" At the dining table, my friend, Leon Shaffer's daughter, Maya Shaffer, has had too many oysters, causing her hormones to go out of whack. As such, her libido has risen considerably. Maya is wearing a miniskirt at the moment. Right now, she's parting her legs in front of me, revealing her white panties seductively. I'm used to not feeling a woman's touch all year round. The sight of the young woman's most private parts makes my heart pound wildly and my blood sing in my ears. So, I respond by freeing my manhood from my zipper before wagging it at Maya. "There's nothing good about my finger! Why don't I use this willy of mine for the job?"

"Does riding a horse feel good for you, Lola?" My pal's daughter, Lola Ramirez, is currently kneeling on all fours on the floor in a skimpy school uniform with her ass bucked high in the air. Meanwhile, I mount her from behind with my hands tugging on her twintails while I thrust into her rapidly. Lola's father, on the other hand, is still playing poker in the room next to ours.

My girlfriend, Phoebe Norton, insisted on bringing her best friend along on our trip. What she did not know was that her friend, Shanine Graham, was a shameless flirt. Wearing nothing but a tiny thong beneath her clothes, Shanine kept finding ways to tease and tempt me…

"Girl, you have to help me satisfy my husband. I honestly can't take it anymore." Recently, my wife couldn't handle my intensity anymore and went crying to her best friend for help. Wanting to ease the tension between us, her bestie decided to come to our house alone. She showed up in a sexy short dress that barely contained her curves. "So I hear you're pretty wild, huh? Let me see what all the fuss is about."

My Valenese neighbor dressed like a temptress—curves in all the right places, a delicate body topped with a pair of full, heavy breasts. Her name was Ayame. When she came by that evening to ask my husband to fix her computer, I heard the unmistakable sounds of pleasure drifting from the other room. "Wanna try my new tongue stud? Consider it your payment for the repair." Then came my husband's moans of pure, shameless delight. I couldn't help but feel jealous. It had been so long since he'd sounded that happy with me. As I listened, my hand slid slowly beneath the waistband of my pants. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. I'd heard that Ayame's husband had a full ring of piercings down below. I'd been craving a taste for ages. If Ayame could seduce my husband, then I'd take my own turn sampling those piercings.

“The new doll in this shop is amazing! It feels like a real human being, and it gets wet too!” In order to catch my husband in his affair, I followed him to a massage parlor and accidentally got stuck between the railings. My back was arched and anyone could see my undergarment. In the end, someone mistook me as a new toy in the shop. He started to touch my bare thighs and bottom. I struggled and wanted to tell the person that I was a real human being, but I was afraid that my husband would discover me. While I hesitated, the person behind me touched my private parts. At that moment, I moaned from the excitement. Turning wet, I got into the man’s hand.

"Don't lick there. Not now... My husband's calling..." I answered the phone, my face burning with shame. The husband on the other end of the line had no idea his beloved wife had another man's head between her thighs at that very moment.