Forbidden Desires
I can’t deny it anymore—I need them. Not one, not two, but all five of them together. The heat between us is unbearable, electric, like fire running through my veins. Each touch sends me higher, each kiss erases another piece of control. I know it’s reckless. I know what people would say. But when they surround me, their hands on my skin, their voices calling my name, there’s no world beyond that moment. And now… one of them wants more than pleasure. One of them wants forever.Their eyes are on me the second I walk into the penthouse—five pairs, burning with hunger. The air is thick with cologne, sweat, and something darker, primal. I didn’t come here to talk. I came to burn.
Jace grabs my wrist before I can take off my coat. 'You’re late.' His voice is low, dangerous. Behind him, Marco pours whiskey like he owns the place. Adrian watches from the couch, shirtless, tattoos snaking down his abs. Tyler and Dane don’t speak—they just smile, already undoing their belts.
I should stop this. I know I should. But my body remembers what it’s like to be split in five directions, stretched beyond reason, worshipped and ruined at once.
'Who’s going first?' I whisper.
No one answers. They move together, like they’ve practiced this. Because maybe they have.
And then my phone buzzes. One unread message: 'I know what you’re doing. And I’m coming up.'
King Patrick
works: 44
Silk and Sparks
I never wanted to be seen. In the quiet hum of needle against fabric, I found my voice—stitch by stitch, thread by thread. But the moment Isabella Astor wore my creation into the ballroom and the crowd fell silent, I became more than a shadow in the back rooms of Fifth Avenue. And then I saw him: Alistair Finch, standing not among the elite, but apart from them, his eyes alight with something I recognized—restless brilliance. One conversation, and I knew he saw me too. Not as a servant, not as decoration. As a creator. As an equal. Now every choice pulls me between the life I’ve earned and the future I dare to imagine.
Desires
I'm Kendall. Sex doesn't move me—never has. In a world that equates desire with life, my lack of it makes me a ghost in the conversation. People whisper: broken, repressed, cold. But I’m none of those things. I feel deeply. I just don’t feel *that*. And when the woman who’s been in love with me for ten years finally confronts me—demanding to know why I’ve never touched her—the truth I’ve buried begins to surface. Not because I want it to, but because silence is no longer an option.
Gunners
I never wanted this ring. It’s heavy with lies, forged in blood, blessed by wolves in priest’s clothing. They called it peace. I call it a prison. Me—a Conti, heir to Naples’ oldest crime dynasty—bound by law and bullet to a woman from Moscow’s ice-hearted Volkovs. She looks at me like I murdered her family. Maybe I will. But right now, someone else is coming for us both. And if we don’t learn to trust the enemy across the bed… our bloodlines end in fire.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.