Ethan is an 18-year-old art major at college. His new roommate is an 18-year-old athlete called Noah. A friendship blooms immediately, but when Ethan finds articles on Noah's open laptop about dominance and submission, he realises all his sick and twisted fantasies about humiliation might be about to come true. That's if his best friend Razz doesn't put a stop to it all.

"I like to pull on your hair, see you struggle to breathe, watch you reach your climax and then stop you from reaching your high." He said all of that without stopping and that made me shake in my fucking boots. "I-I, no?" I wasn't sure what to say when someone approaches you for a job and says that. "I don't like when people say no to me. I will be respected. You, Miles Stevenson, will respect me." His voice was cold as ice. His stare froze my insides. He got up from his desk and walked over to me in strong strides in a matter of seconds. He was dangerously attractive, his voice and tone were filled with a Russian accent, but it was barely there. Online, it read that his family was from Russia, he was born here but moved to America at the young age of 3. "You're a cute, small pet. I think I'll be taking you." He talked with no fear in his voice, he was straight-forward when he talked. His large hand came up to my face and his thumb stroked my cheek and then moved back to my hair and tugged on it a bit. I nudged my head back as a moan came out my throat and past my lips. "There we go, you little masochist." He licked his lips and came down to my neck, kissing my sensitive skin. My hands flew up to his chest but he smacked them away and grabbed them. Placing them above my head, his smirk only grew when I closed my eyes and groaned as his leg went up against my growing manhood. --- That got Hot. Maybe you should read the rest and find out what happens between a 22-year-old and hot Russian Millionaire Don. Or the one with a cute genius boy who just got out of a long term relationship comes for a job as an assistant with an older Russian Millionaire who doesn't take shit from anyone. {Gayyy, Slight S/m & Russian hotties) -- Ranks: #1 in #Death #1 in #TroyeSivan #1 in #Sadist #1 in #Masochist #1 in #Mobster #1 in #boyxman #1 in #gayfiction #1 in #Gay #1 in #Russia #1 in #Gayromance #1 in #LGBT -- Started: February 5th, 2020 Ended: June 4th, 2020

Jackson Cooper is your usual player, the charming heartbreaker, lover of the chase, indifferent to love and relationships. Except in this story, he's gay. And a little kinky. But otherwise, the textbook player who drops flings the moment they get too close, even if it means being a little cruel. Then one day he meets his match in Mr. Sawyer, the king of finance on the West Coast, wealth embodied, a cool, collected, and cold-hearted heartthrob who has Jackson questioning every part of himself and who he thought he was. * * * Excerpt: Mr. Sawyer breathes in sharply. He glances at the roses and chocolate. "I don't do romance." Jackson touches the hand on his chest, fingertips dancing lightly across the tendons, the slim wrist, the soft, sensitive undersides. Mr. Sawyer's eyes, stormy blue, lock onto his. "This isn't romance, Mr. Sawyer. This is seduction." "One and the same." Jackson leans forward and brings his lips to Mr. Sawyer's neck. He hears a muffled noise and leans back until his mouth reaches Mr. Sawyer's ear, very proud of the light flush on his neck. "Not in the slightest." * * * Or: Jackson Cooper thinks he's got everything figured out, and Weston Sawyer proves him otherwise. * * * Warnings & Disclaimers inside.

Lake doesn't like parties, he especially doesn't like getting drunk by drinking the alcoholic punch on accident, and he really doesn't enjoy following his friends to go trick or treating and somehow finding himself lost and alone in a graveyard. There is a tall figure sitting calmly on a large gravestone, so dark he appears as a silhouette, his tapered cloak moving in the wind as though suspended in water. Lake walks up to him, made of curiosity, bravery and booze. The tall man stands to tower over him, in his left hand a scythe is raised and the blade glints in the moonlight, darkness reaching out from him like a thick fog. Cold red eyes pin Lake down. "Who disturbs this halfway realm of death? Who dares to approach the harbinger..." But the little human in front of him seems unafraid. His large blue eyes squint as he reaches through the black fog and presses his hand on his chest. "Wow, that's really cool, how do you do that?"

"What I was going to say was selfish..." He mumbled. I edge closer to him until my hand slowly cradled his cheek. Tilting his head up to look at me. "Please let me know what it was." I beg him pathetically. He begins to chew his lip and that's when I knew he was nervous. Nervous about what? I'm not exactly sure. "With everything I said...I was going to say at the same time...never...leave me." He confessed painfully almost. That's when I lost all sense of control and pressed my lips onto his. Kissing him with all my strength and all the built up desire that's accumulated. I continued to kiss him until at some point my tongue made it's way into his mouth. Tasting a sweet flavor that I've never encountered. As I got deeper in the kissing I feel myself fly back into a tree. Slammed against it that I felt myself lose my breath. Trying to catch it, I look up at Achille. His eyes were now a crimson red that intrigued me. He shook his head and suddenly he was gone in a blur. Confused, I stood as I had to pop my back from the hard hit into the tree. Looking in the direction Achille ran off, I knew I couldn't see him because it'd be a blur. Always thought it was fascinating how when he runs you can't see it. Being a vampire must be...fascinating. Yet he makes it out to be hell. I can't understand that kind of complicity of being a vampire and the issues. I get it, they drink blood. Though there's multiple things beside humans that offer blood! He acts like it's so horrific. I would love to know what it felt like for a day. Just one day...

• BOOK #1 OF THE PRINCELY SERIES • Alabaster has been called many things in his life. Good things, bad things, mediocre things. And at this point in, he's stopped caring what other people think. That is until he crosses paths with a man at the club he works at. He's got nothing to lose and nothing to gain and somehow ends up in bed with the stranger. After discovering his real identity Alabaster begins to weigh the possibilities and does what he can to keep emotions out of the way. But soon he can't help but fall hard for the charm and charisma. And when a war that's been waged for centuries begins to throw problem after problem their way Alabaster starts to doubt that a relationship with the stranger could ever last. But the man will do everything in his power to bend the little incubus to his will, whatever it takes. WARNING: 18+ MATURE CONTENT, INCLUDES LANGUAGE, SEXUAL SCENES, RAPE