Yakuza Bed Novels & Stories

The living area was spacious, with plush furniture that looked so soft you could bury yourself in them, a full bar with a variety of drinks, and artwork that probably cost more than I made in a year, which was to say a lot. “Do you like it?” “Do I like it?” I turned to him, raising a brow. “It's beautiful. But everything is so luxurious. How much does a single night even cost?” He opened his mouth to speak, but I immediately put my hand up. “No, don't even tell me.” Keanu shook his head, amusement playing at his lips. Just then, a yawn slipped out of me. "Go rest," Keanu said as his hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "Like I said, I need you well-rested. Now go sle

Every corner screamed luxury high-tech gadgets, sleek furniture, and the works. This was a bachelor pad designed to impress. I removed my coat, hanging it by the door, my sleeveless maxi dress swaying as I moved. Kael’s voice broke my trance. “You look stunning,” he said, lounging on his sofa, his eyes drinking me in. “Thanks,” I murmured, my gaze wandering the room again, trying to steady my nerves. He handed me a folder. “Here, sign this. It’s the agreement we discussed. Just the basics.” I nodded, skimming the document before signing my name above Elara Dela Vega.

"Do you know how messy Resti is?" The mention of Angga's sister's name did make Maureen curious as to what kind of person the two men near her were talking about, but it was not the right time for Maureen to dig into the life of someone who was not related at all to her current problem. "While you stay here first, is that okay?" Angga opened one of the doors to the room that made Maureen and Ben gape before entering. A masculine impression showed the real owner of the room. Many posters of famous bands from Japan with a fierce impression, steel tables attached to the gray wall without legs plowing the floor, and a single bed whose edge was attached to the other side of the room with tinted g

(Sato Akiko, what do you want from me after all these years? - You know I'm Americanized. Now, I'm Akiko Sato. - Forget your weird ways. I don't have time to waste. – the Yakuza answers . - Jeez, always the same. Okay, I'll cut to the chase. I needed you to "lend" me your men in New York. I'm in the big apple. The Yakuza laughs. - Akiko, who do you think you are? You were always very snobbish. You should be more humble, as a good girl have to be.

"But the frame of this bed is a bit thin, and it doesn't feel very firm." Although Allen doesn't want to hear Sebestian overtones, Allen also agrees that the frame of this bed is indeed not strong enough. Two men over 180 centimeters lie on it. If they are doing indescribable things, their safety is indeed open to question. Resolutely abandoning the steel bed frame in front of him, they continued to walk slowly in the store. "What do you think of this bed, baby?" Sebestian pointed to a wooden-colored Japanese-style bed frame and said, "It looks very good, and it has a storage function under the bed!"

It was like she had met the man with the ultimate poker face. "If you wish to survive in a place such as this, Slave Keiko, I suggest you learn better discipline. Do not waste a single act. Do not waste a single word. Do you understand?" She wasn't sure she did, but she nodded, held her tongue, and waited for him to continue. "This place is one of dozens on the outskirts of Tokyo. The man who owns it is the son of a powerful yakuza. His name is Takashi Saito. He collects young Japanese girls, trains them, and sells them to the highest bidder."

He wouldn't kill him just yet, the fact that he was sleeping on the couch showed that Yoshiki didn't like him very much. When Kenchiki entered the room, he found Yoshiki lying on the bed. He had thrown off the duvet cover sometime during his sleep and was only wearing sweatpants, his soft hair spread out on the pillow, his hands were on either side of his face, and his legs were spread open, he was like a human starfish.

Hiroshi bowed his head respectfully and said, “Don’t worry, Miss. I’ll do my best!” Nanako smiled slightly and said, “Thank you, Tanaka-san. I’ll go in and see my father first.” Meanwhile, Yahiko was sitting in a wheelchair parked in the middle of his bedroom and study room. Yahiko’s room was a suite with a bedroom and a study room, and the interior decoration was a typical Japanese-style room with tatami mats throughout the room. A brand new hakama was hanging on the wall, and this was the hakama that he had had his craftsman tailor last year for his fiftieth birthday.

The limousine glided through the softly lit roads of Philadelphia, the quietness inside the car filled with excitement. Raul, head of the Mexican gang, leaned back, his gaze fixed on the city view outside the tinted windows. Sitting across from him, Mr. Nakamura the underboss of the Yakuza gang, and second in command to Kazuya Takeda the leader of the gang. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat.