The Writing Desk

When the heat becomes unbearable… desire ignites. Rival firefighters ripping off gear in a steamy locker room. Straight best friends trapped in a scorching sauna, sweat turning curiosity into raw hunger. A powerful boss bending his eager intern over the desk during a city-wide blackout. Frat rivals claiming each other roughly on the moonlit beach. Roommates, mechanics, coaches, werewolves, and strangers — all surrendering to filthy, no-limits passion. Twenty-five explosive M/M shorts packed with sweat, dominance, desperate moans, and throbbing need. Hate sex. First times. Forbidden touches. Primal releases. Each story is a fast-burning blaze — quick to light, impossible to put out. ⚠️ Extremely explicit. Graphic M/M action. 18+ only. Dare to feel the burn?

Emily Rosalyn Carter is a female prosecutor who is known to be cold-blooded among criminals and convicts in court. The most severe sentence demands are always the verdicts she submits to the judge so that she is nicknamed the guardian angel of the gates of hell by criminals. However, not many people know that behind Emily's cold attitude, she has many affairs with many men who take turns filling her love diary. Hot romance is Emily's choice to keep herself from losing her humanity when she has to face the cruelty of criminals in court. A hot, tense, and exciting story of the life of a single female prosecutor. Follow Emily's love journey with the men of her choice and the criminal cases she handles at the prosecutor's desk!

Elias Rourke was more than a billionaire he was a tempest in a custom-fitted suit. As the CEO of Rourke Enterprises a bachelor, he was known for his icy effectiveness, merciless transactions, and total absence of emotion. Everyone referred to him as “Ice King” when he wasn't around. Up until her. Chloe Hart had worked as his secretary for slightly more than two weeks. Timid, kind-hearted, and excessively courteous, she was the type of woman who kept track of birthdays, tended to plants, and uttered "please" to the coffee maker. Elias hardly paid attention to her,until the morning she entered his office unannounced. “I apologize for the interruption,” she said, her voice shaking, “but you haven’t had anything to eat today.” "It's nearly four." He looked at her, irritated. “That’s none of your business.” “I prepared a sandwich for you.” She places it on his desk and walks away before he has a chance to reply to her. Even with how rude he is to her, she brings him homemade meals everyday and lavender tea after tough meetings. He started to notice little details about her, the way she played with her necklace when anxious, she shows no emotions even when he yells at her. One day, he sees himself approaching her desk not to order her around, but to ask her about her well being. When a scandal almost destroys Elias’s empire. She stays by his side, not out of obligation, but because she trusted him. He looked at her and whispered, “You are the gentleness in my whole existence." "I don't know how to show emotions, but I will learn just for you." Chloe smiled, looking at him and said "Steel is capable of melting, Elias." "Even kings can experience love."

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiancé, Marco, married the Don's daughter. My father was framed and thrown in jail. I needed five million dollars to get him out. Then Marco found me. "Be my mistress," he offered, "and I'll save your father." I smiled and turned to the man lurking in the shadows, a man known for his power, brutality, and his stone-cold heart. They said the king of the underworld never let a woman spend the night. But with me, he buried his head in my hair, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the mahogany desk, and the ornate carved bed all became our battlegrounds. And there was one thing I forgot to tell Marco. The man I was with was Dante Landini, the cold-blooded Don of the Landini family, who was Marco's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Finding out you've been adopted is stressful enough but finding out that your father is the dead billionaire Benjamin Moore is mind-blowing in itself. Couple with the fact that you are part of a triplet separated at birth and with secrets and conspiracy emerging on your late father's private island, the final blow will take your breath away. NOTE: NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED. This story contains sexually explicit and graphic depiction of sex and a bit of incest. If this is not your cup of tea, please move on. My hope is that you readers enjoy my writing in its entirety and not base it on just its sexual nature.

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

She was my wife by law… and my mistress by lust. But what happens when the two collide—naked and unfiltered? I told myself it would be the last time. But when Ava walked into my office in heels and nothing under her coat, my resolve shattered. She tasted like fire— Bent over my desk, her moans swallowed by my kisses, I forgot my vows. I forgot Lydia. Until Lydia texted Ava back. Until they both showed up… and neither of them came to fight. A sizzling tale of temptation, secrets, and a love triangle so twisted, it can only end one way: with all of them in one bed—and nothing between them.

My life was about to be complicated. Meeting a stupidly hot guy after a missed flight, and a kiss that left me dizzy. We agreed: no names, no numbers. Just a hot make out session and goodbye. But when I start my dream job the next week, guess who’s sitting behind the Managers desk? Yep. The airport stranger. Now he’s Mr. Thatcher… aka my boss. Worse? He’s older and engaged. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about that kiss especially when I’m supposed to be working, but my brain still hasn’t gotten the memo. Office meetings just got a lot more complicated…..

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.