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BDSM – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:10:15 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png BDSM – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Punished by the Prison Warden Read Online Jenna Rose http://www.ilovenovels.com/punished-read-online-the-prison-warden-read-online-jenna-rose Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:10:15 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/punished-read-online-the-prison-warden-read-online-jenna-rose Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Forbidden, Novella, Taboo, Virgin Authors: the Prison Warden Read Online Jenna Rose Advertisement

Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 95(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)

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I’m the only woman in a prison full of men. And the warden has his eye on me.

I'm innocent, but no one believes me. Not the judge, not my mother, and definitely not Warden Killian Rew, the most terrifying, gorgeous man I've ever seen.

I’m just a number to him. 5075. He makes me call him sir and obey his every command. One second he’s warm, the next he’s ice cold, tearing my heart in two directions.

But when the other inmates come for me, he saves me. When I'm shaking and broken, he holds me together. And when his cold mask finally cracks, I see what’s underneath.

Obsession. Possession. I belong to him.
I should be afraid of this man. Instead, all I can say yes, sir.

A human-written, instalove romance featuring a dominant alpha warden, a sweet and innocent FMC, age-gap, forced proximity, no cheating, no cliffhangers, just pure escapism, steamy scenes, loving devotion and a guaranteed HEA!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

ALICE

“Alice Clement, I find you guilty of theft, breaking and entering, and destruction of private property and sentence you to one year in prison!”

The judge’s gavel comes down hard, echoing through the courtroom, causing my stomach to sink like the Titanic. Somewhere behind me, I hear my mom’s desperate wail as the tears start to fall.

“I’m innocent! Momma, help me!” I cry out. But it’s too late. Big men in uniforms are already dragging me away, my wrists handcuffed like they’re worried I’m actually dangerous. Me. A five-foot-three girl, barely one hundred pounds. Who am I a danger to?

“You’re no daughter of mine,” my mom hisses, eyes bloodshot as she stands. “I broke my back raising you on my own, and this is how you repay me?”

“Mom, I swear—” But I don’t even have time to finish as I’m hauled out a side door and into a grim corridor. My legs turn to Jell-O, but it doesn’t matter. The guards hold me, dragging me on.

“Don’t try that with us, sweetie. You’re going to prison, and it can be the easy way or the hard way.”

The other man chuckles, his voice like sandpaper. “Sure wouldn’t mind if it was the hard way, am I right?”

This cracks them both up as my pulse goes wild and my heart rattles like a flag in a hurricane.

How did this happen? I’m the world’s best-behaved girl. I’m eighteen and have never been suspended, never had detention. I’ve never even been late to school. And yet suddenly, I’m a criminal.

It all started three weeks ago when Jamie, the lady who runs the nail salon where I work—well, worked—came rushing out of the back office, screaming at the staff that cash had been taken from her safe. I didn’t even know she had a safe, but she instantly accused me because I ‘looked guilty’ and was the new girl.

Nothing I said could convince her otherwise. She never liked me. Even tried to accuse me of being late when I was on time. Before I could even defend myself, she called the police and I was arrested and booked.

Mom and I couldn’t afford a lawyer, so one was appointed by the state—one who could not have cared less about me. I swear, six months in law school and I could have given myself a better defense.

Now here I am, on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, as two double doors open in front of me, revealing a white prison van.

“No, please!” I cry out, squirming against the impossibly tight grip of my captors. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Shut up,” one of them barks as I’m hurtled into the back of the van. My vision blurs and my head spins as I’m chained to the wall and the doors slam shut behind me.

The engine roars and the van leaps forward, sending my head slamming into the wall. I cry out in pain and pray for a miracle. But it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting one.

The ride to the prison feels fast, but I have no way of judging time back here. No phone, no watch, no human contact. Just me, a pair of handcuffs, and a chain.

Just as I’m starting to drift off, the doors open and the same two men snatch me up like a fresh new delivery and carry me out with the same lack of care. Somehow, I manage to look up and see a sign over the door that reads: Last Rites Penitentiary.

“You’ll love it here, sweetie,” one guard chuckles. “The only girl. You’ll have the pick of the litter.”

Adrenaline rakes through me. “W-what do you mean, only girl?”

The other guard smirks down at me, his lips dry and cracked. “Oh, they didn’t tell you? Until last month, this was an all-male facility.”

A sense of doom crashes into my stomach, weighing me down as I stare up at the stained brick walls, the fences ringed with razor wire, and the armed guards at regular intervals.

All this for petty theft? Petty theft I didn’t even commit?

“How many men?” I ask, my voice no more than a breath.

“Five thousand and seventy-four.”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to vomit. A shiver courses through me as the gates open and I’m pulled inside. I want to kick and scream, fight for dear life against this terrible sentence being thrust upon me, but what good would it do?

All the energy has been drained from me, and I’m nothing compared to the men at my sides. They could lift me over their heads with one arm just for a laugh.

They think I’m some kind of floozy, when in reality, I’m closer to a nun than a regular girl my age. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never even been on a date—Mom made sure of that. Then again, none of the boys at my high school were interested in me anyway.

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Step-Kink (Wanting What’s Wrong #11) Read Online Dani Wyatt http://www.ilovenovels.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:10:04 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/step-kink-wanting-whats-wrong-11-read-online-dani-wyatt Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Forbidden, Taboo, Virgin Authors: Dani Wyatt Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >38

He has the face of my father, but his hands are all his.
Rye McAllister is my dad's twin brother. He took me to my first thrift store, named a bonsai tree after me, and was always there at Sunday brunch.

Now Dad's in rehab, Mom’s a mess, I have the tryout of a lifetime coming up, and Rye's sleeping down the hall as my stand-in father figure.

And I am not okay.

When my friends drag me to a bachelorette weekend, I’m expecting chocolate dildos and too much tequila, not a private kink club for Truth or Dare night. And, because God hates me specifically, guess who’s there? Uncle Rye.

Things go from awkward to holy sh*t when he slaps a collar on my neck and takes all my dares for himself.
So, what do I do? I bolt. Because I’m the good girl that holds the family together by being, well… perfect.
The McAllister Clan is coming apart. But will love be enough to put the pieces back together?

Author's This filthy little bachelorette-gone-wrong features a 6'5" step-uncle with his twin brother's face and an obsession with a sweet, tiny dancer that is 100% off limits. Safe, no cheating, with a hero who tracks her iPhone like a love language. He looks like her dad, but being her Daddy is what he was born for

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Elodie

How am I going to spend two weeks in the same house with the man I can't stop thinking about? A man who, incidentally, looks exactly like my father?

It's just so wrong.

Here I am, scrolling through my phone, looking at pictures of my Uncle Rye, while my mother packs her bag to go visit my father across the country in rehab.

A little bead of sweat trickles down my chest, making me shiver as April sun streams through the kitchen window.

"Rye will be here tonight,” she says as she fidgets with the tag on her Coach bag making sure the logo is clearly visible. “Most people can't tell the difference between him and your father. He'll come and go, just like your dad does. He'll drive the minivan. Just don't let any of the neighbors get too nosy, and don't mention what's going on to anyone. Elodie, are you listening?"

Blood rushes to my face, and I turn my phone face down on the granite island.

“I’m listening,” I say, receiving a doubtful frown in response. “Uncle Rye will be pretending to be Dad. Got it.”

“Perhaps you should call him Dad at all times while he’s here. What do they call it, method acting?”

I nod ignoring the rush of dampness that seeps from my body thinking of sleeping a wall away from my uncle for two weeks. “Got it. I’ll call him Dad.”

I bet Dad fucks like a beast.

All that calm control has to have an outlet right? God, I wonder if he will be jerking off while he’s here? The vision has my feminine parts clenching. My nipples are achy and sensitive and my clit is ten kinds of demanding right now.

Rye could melt most frigid women’s resolve into a steaming puddle of wanton desire with those spooky greenish gold eyes of his and the way he moves through life with a confidence that makes you want to put him between you and all the terrible things in the world. I tell myself it’s just infatuation build on the quiet attention he’s given me since I was five years old.

But, every time I see him, it’s like the air disappears. I want to reach down and rub away the tension he creates between my legs.

I know nothing of men in that way really except what Anna and Jeremy my besties from grade school tell me. But there are things built into our DNA we cannot control. Desire and want. God, so much want.

My mother offers a thin smile and I return one in my practiced, polished perfect daughter manner.

Image is everything to my mother. She won Miss Michigan, after all, and her own mother was first runner-up in the Miss USA pageant, 1952, or whatever year it was.

“No fast food,” she says checking her lipstick in the glassy front of the wall oven. “I mean it, Elodie, don’t let Rye lead you astray. You’re doing so well on this diet, I don’t want to lose our progress. Remember that Sophia said their only doubt about you is that you’ve…filled out a bit more than is normally acceptable for a principal dancer.”

I click my molars together on another forced smile. “Got it. No fast food. I promise.”

She turns to open a cupboard and take yet another count of the diet shakes stacked in there, and I take the opportunity for another peek at my phone.

I tap on my photo files, then another tap to the hidden file I keep.

The latest snapshot of Uncle Rye pops up first from last month's performance of Swan Lake, where he brought me five dozen white roses. The picture is him standing next to me as I struggle to hold up what felt like fifty pounds of floral bliss.

“You have enough Opti-Cal to last two weeks. Weigh in when you first get up after you pee, then again right before bed. The app will log it and I’ll check it while I’m gone. Remember, accountability keeps us honest. God help me, if that man ruins all the work we’ve done—”

"Everything will be okay, Mom. Just take care of Dad."

Two years ago, I put on five pounds during spring break, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. Mom blames Uncle Rye because he insisted that I could share his Chinese take-out when he came to visit, just a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday. He ordered enough for six, and I pigged out but I also took on an extra two hour practice every day because there was no school, so I’m not sure if the five pounds was from the fried rice, or just a little water weight from an overload of msg and sodium.

I’m six pounds lighter than I was then and Mom is happier with things this way.

And honestly? When Mom’s happy, my life is a heck of a lot easier.

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Stalkers – A Dark Romance Read Online Loki Renard http://www.ilovenovels.com/stalkers-a-dark-romance-read-online-loki-renard Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:06 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/stalkers-a-dark-romance-read-online-loki-renard Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic Authors: Loki Renard Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

She can run, but we'll always hunt her down.

Our pet has been stripped, spanked, and ravaged in her own bed, carried off bound and helpless for further use, and made to come so hard she screams in front of a room full of crime lords.

Each of us has had our turn to make the girl who got our brother killed pay for her sins.

But after tonight Ella will truly be ours forever.

Because tonight we share her for the first time.

Publisher's Stalkers is a standalone romance that includes spankings, rough, intense sexual scenes, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Our captive lies before us, a pretty little thing with a face so innocent you wouldn’t believe what she is capable of. That face swims with a combination of guilt, fear, and lust. Is there anything more intoxicating than a pretty girl who knows she deserves to be punished? Who craves it as much as she fears it?

Once upon a time, we thought she was just a girl, a sweet young thing too curious for her own good.

Now I am obsessed with her.

And I’m not the only one.

My brothers are also feasting their eyes on her body, and I know each of them wants her as much as I do. Lustful tension is thick in the air, vengeance and desire making for a heady combination.

“Please let me go,” she whimpers.

“You are beautiful when you beg,” Aiden says. “But you don’t really want to go. What would you go to? Back to a world where you are used by the worst of the worst? Back to being treated like a disposable commodity or worse, a normal girl? No, my dear. We intend to keep you for our own, use you as we see fit, and ensure you atone entirely. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“But this is… you’re going to hurt me.”

“We are going to exact a price for your sins, and yes, it will be painful at times,” he says, elegant as ever. “But you like pain, don’t you? If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I don’t know what you think I did…”

“Shhh,” he drawls. “The time for arguing is over. The time for amends is beginning…”

“But…”

Thwack!

She lets out a wail as his crop makes sharp, swift contact with her mound. Her face and chest flush with arousal she would deny if only her body wasn’t displaying it in full glory.

“As I said,” Aiden says. “The time for arguing is over. Spread your legs for me. It is time you showed contrition through surrender.”

She hesitates before parting her legs a fraction of an inch.

“More,” Aiden says patiently.

She whimpers and spreads them a little wider still. She knows what is coming. We all do.

“No,” she whines, reaching down with a tentative hand to cover herself.

“Move your hand,” Aiden says with deceptive gentleness.

She keeps it there.

He lifts a brow at her, demanding her obedience through sheer force of will.

She shifts her hand. Smart girl. But it’s too late.

The crop comes back with a hard stroke that catches her directly above her sensitive little bud. Aiden is nothing if not precise.

Her yowl hits a register only cats can hear.

“I told you,” he says. “Do not cover yourself. You are not for yourself anymore. You are for us.”

She whimpers softly, and I almost feel sorry for her.

Then I remember what she did.

What she took from us.

And how she will never, ever be able to give it back.

CHAPTER 1

Leo

No good love story starts with a funeral. But a dark one does.

My brothers and I watch grimly as our youngest brother is prepared to be lowered into the ground. It’s a cold fall day, and leaves are blowing their way into the maw in the earth, dancing over his coffin with the indifference nature likes to display to all tragedies.

It rained overnight, and again this morning. The area around the grave shimmers with gray puddles reflecting the dismal sky.

I have flashes of memory of stamping in puddles like the ones around the grave when we were small. Teddy loved it the most. I can hear his laugh, innocent and small. It is hard to believe that so many years have passed and now we are all grown. There is little innocence left in any of us now. We are adults, and the best of us has been taken too soon.

“Dearly beloved…”

The priest endeavors to start a small graveside service. It is ill-fated indeed.

“Don’t.”

Luke cuts him off with one rough word. Luke is built like a pit bull, all muscle and rage. He’s never been angrier than he is today. I wonder if he’s taken something to wear the edge off. He’s supposed to be sober. Then again, Theodore is supposed to be alive, so I suppose we’re all letting one another down in various ways.

The priest looks at him in surprise.

“Don’t give us that funeral bullshit,” Luke says. “It doesn’t belong to us. We’re not that kind of people. Just say he’s dead and put him in the fucking ground.”

The priest looks at Aiden for confirmation. People do that. He is the eldest of us, and he has a natural demeanor of authority.

Aiden nods. None of us are much for pretty words, and even less for ceremony. Luke is blunt, but right. Theodore is gone, and no amount of pretty morbid words and religious pageantry is going to bring him back, or assuage our grief. Funerals are supposed to be for the living, but we will deal with this loss in our own way. On this day, we are here because you have to put the body in the ground sooner rather than later.

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Love and Let Spy (Masters & Mercenaries – New Recruits #6) Read Online Lexi Blake http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-and-let-spy-masters-mercenaries-new-recruits-6-read-online-lexi-blake Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:02 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/love-and-let-spy-masters-mercenaries-new-recruits-6-read-online-lexi-blake Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic Authors: Lexi Blake Series: Masters & Mercenaries - New Recruits Series by Lexi Blake
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 149641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 599(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >158

Canadian operative Ben Parker met the woman of his dreams while working undercover in Australia. That operation, to take down Emmanuel Huisman, was the singular focus of his life until he met Maggie. Now the hunt for his former childhood friend turned international terrorist often feels like what he does in between chasing the magenta-haired American spy he can’t stop thinking about. She’s the woman of his dreams, when she isn’t being the stuff of his nightmares. Sometimes she is sweet and deliciously responsive to him, and other times she pushes him out of a plane without a parachute.

Kenzie Taggart knew Ben Parker was the one for her the minute she saw him. Unfortunately, he didn’t meet her first. He met her twin sister, Kala, and they had to keep the secret. No one outside of their team knows they’re twins. Everyone believes the operative known as Miss Magenta is one person. Kenzie can’t tell the man she’s falling in love with who she really is, but she also can’t afford to lose him.

When faced with certain death on a joint operation in Nepal, Kenzie reveals the truth about “Maggie” and they spend their last minutes alive in each other’s arms. It was perfect, and then a miraculous rescue leaves them in a difficult situation. Kenzie couldn’t be happier that Ben knows the truth, but so does Huisman. He’s determined to burn down the world, but not before he ruins his old friend and his newfound beloved. As Ben and Kenzie cross the globe in their quest to stop the madman, they might have to choose between saving the world and saving each other

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Ben Parker felt the cold press of stone against his face and his gut churned as he forced himself to sit up.

Why was it so dark? Where the hell was he?

Something dripped down his face, and he reached up. Blood. His eyes were starting to adjust to the low light of the…? Cage? Was he in a cage?

His heart raced. His gut knotted. He was better than this. He had to calm the fuck down. He was a damn spy, and he knew panic was the real enemy.

Well, panic and Manny. Fuck. What had happened? Manny had done something. He’d been with… He couldn’t think about her now. He couldn’t think about the look on her face. He’d tried to save them all but the cost…the cost had been more than he could imagine.

Lou. She’d been the cost. He had to think about Lou. Was she here? He had to find a way to get Lou out because he knew exactly how badly things could go for her.

He moved along the floor until he managed to find a corner, his gut wrenching, likely because some asshole used experimental drugs on him. Or it could be plain sedatives, but he doubted it since Manny liked to play. He wouldn’t put anything past him. After all, he’d nearly killed Kenzie’s twin twice. Ben had carried her out one time himself. He’d held her thinking she was Kenzie, held her close and gave her to her family and walked away.

Kenzie.

Kenzie was never going to forgive him. Never. Not if Lou was hurt or if she…

“Benjamin, you don’t seem to be taking to my new drugs,” a silky voice said. It floated through the air, coming at him from seemingly all angles. Like the voice of a cruel god. “Such a shame. It did work, though. How were your dreams? It does contain a bit of a psychotropic. The other patients have described the effects as nightmarish.”

The dreams. They welled inside him, shadows he didn’t want to catch, but they still came. They flooded back, each devastating image.

His head ached at the thought of the shadow world he’d been in.

In his dreams he was in the car again. He was in the accident that took his fiancée when they were in college. It had been the day he’d discovered her affair with the man who was supposed to be his best friend. Ben had been in that car, and he realized the brakes were gone and he was hydroplaning, the rain and thunder forming a soundtrack to what was almost certainly the last moments of his life.

Except this time it wasn’t Deanna in the seat beside him.

This time it was Kenzie Taggart. The love of his freaking life. The woman he’d chased across five continents and given himself to wholly. The one he was planning to marry and have a real life with.

He wished he’d told her.

It was Kenzie’s body that was thrown from the car, that he’d dragged himself through the mud to get to, that he found face down in shallow water, her face ruined by glass and branches and stone. Her beautiful face a mottled mess, but he’d tried. Even as his own body was failing he tried to bring her back.

In the never-ending nightmare of the last few hours, it had been Kenzie who coughed and came back and cursed him. Who told him she hated him and would always hate him.

It was Kenzie who died on the operating table, and her family who wouldn’t even let him see her, wouldn’t let him hold her.

He’d been devastated by Deanna’s death, but it was nothing compared to knowing Kenzie wasn’t in the world. He’d been hollowed out and ready to do whatever it took to find her again.

It had been so real.

“Did you dream about her?” Manny sounded curious, a hint of sympathy in his voice.

Manny was a sociopath. Any sympathy was performative. He was excellent at hiding the fact that he was a monster who wanted to eat the world.

Starting with Ben Parker.

“Where is Lou?” It was the only thing that mattered. Finding Lou. Getting Lou back, because if he didn’t Kenzie would never forgive him. Never.

What had he done?

“Rest assured, Louisa Ward is in good health. For now,” Manny replied. “We’ll see how intransigent she can be before deciding how much influence she’ll require to do the job. Don’t worry. I already have plans in place.”

The bombs. He’d used a couple in the last few months, destroying lives for fun and profit, building his new world order by decimating the current one.

He wanted Lou to build more. He needed her brilliance, and Ben had been the one to give it to him.

He lost Lou. It was his fault, and the family he’d been hoping to be a part of would never have him now.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >158

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The Commitment – Unbroken – Heavenly Rising Read Online Shayla Black http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-commitment-unbroken-heavenly-rising-read-online-shayla-black Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:26 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-commitment-unbroken-heavenly-rising-read-online-shayla-black Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Suspense Authors: Shayla Black Advertisement

Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 182255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 911(@200wpm)___ 729(@250wpm)___ 608(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >188

One Bride. Two Bachelors. Total Commitment?

Seth Cooper must decide between growing a future with Heavenly Young and Kenneth “Beck” Beckman or losing them forever. His heart says yes...but his head knows that if he has to mourn his loved ones again, he won't survive. He chooses Heavenly and Beck—swallowing the quiet terror that their commitment might be the thing that shatters them all.

Then, Seth’s devoutly Catholic mother’s wedding compels the trio to New York. To preserve her happy day, he asks Heavenly to pose as his fiancée, while reducing Beck to platonic friend. The charade is temporary…but it quickly tears them apart.

When the trio’s plans for the future become terrifyingly real, a new discovery forces Seth to confront an old threat—exposing a betrayal he never saw coming and dragging them into the very risk he feared most. With everyone he loves—along with his secrets—in jeopardy, Seth must stop the killer or history will repeat itself in blood. Because surviving the danger is only possible if they fight for it together

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Los Angeles

September 7

* * *

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Raking a hand through his hair, Seth Cooper sank onto the bottom step of the house he shared with Kenneth Beckman and their girlfriend, Heavenly Young. The riser creaked beneath his weight. His lungs felt as if they’d collapsed. Each breath was a conscious effort as he sat frozen, the weight of his choices—past and present—crushing him like a vise.

The two most important people in his life were upstairs, waiting for him so they could start their happy future…and he was down here, choking on his own bullshit.

He had to think. Had to breathe.

Their last conversation replayed in his head.

You’re going to get her pregnant. Seth had hurled the words like an accusation.

Beck hadn’t blinked. God, I hope so. You can be a part of that, but you’ve got to decide if your past is more important than your future. If it is, well… You know the way out.

The thought of intentionally impregnating Heavenly dredged up memories Seth had spent years burying. They crashed past his barriers and drowned him with regret. He could see it all now: pulling up to his house, pieces of his wife’s car still smoldering on the neighbor’s yard. Flames shooting out from the busted windows while Autumn and their infant son burned inside. Tristan’s pacifier melted to the concrete. A singed blue bootie in the gutter. The teddy bear his boy had slept with every night since birth burning as the December ice beneath it melted.

Seth pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, but that didn’t stop the images from coming. The baby blanket his mother had lovingly handcrafted, caught in the branches of the bare oak tree, edges blackened and curling with the heat. The smell—god, the smell—of melting plastic from the car seat his baby had been strapped into. And the terrible note the killer had left for him: Merry Fucking Christmas.

He’d stood there, helpless, knowing the only person he could ultimately blame for Autumn and Tristan’s murders was himself. If he hadn’t been so reckless, so stubborn and arrogant in pursuing the case that had gotten his father killed nearly a decade prior, they would still be alive.

That’s what he was running from now. Not just losing his wife and son, but the terror that history could repeat itself.

The logical part of his brain—the investigator, the problem solver—kicked into gear, sifting through evidence.

Their killer is dead. Eight years ago, Seth had made damn sure he’d slaughtered the bastard who had murdered his young family—in the most violent way possible. For four days, he’d tortured Silas Nichols in his disgusting South Bronx apartment, feeding off the man’s screams before putting a bullet between his eyes. That monster was rotting now, six feet under and serving as maggot food.

No one had ever connected Seth to Silas’s death. No one ever would.

And in the years since, had there been even a whisper of a threat? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. So why was he still living like everyone he dared to love had a target on their back?

“Because you’re a fucking coward,” he whispered into the awful silence, the words burning his throat.

Despite becoming an edge-walking, gun-toting badass, his father would’ve admonished him for being afraid of a boogeyman he’d already vanquished. Fear had never stopped Michael Cooper from living, from loving, or from fighting for what mattered.

Seth curled his hands into fists. He was going to lose them. Beck’s patience had run out. And Heavenly, his sweet angel, had walked away from him tonight. Not physically, but emotionally. He’d seen it in her eyes. Heard it in her trembling voice.

I’m sorry, Seth. I won’t sacrifice having a family because you’re too scared to make one.

Her quiet devastation had cut deeper than her anger ever could.

Then, while he’d been clutching his figuratively kicked-in balls, Beck had heaped more truth onto him.

If you were actually trying to help yourself, we’d gladly give you all the time you need. But you’re not. Heavenly and I have waited for months. We’re done. We’re starting our future tonight.

Seth bit back a curse. What was he fighting so hard to avoid? More loss? More pain? He’d lived through both. It had nearly destroyed him, but he’d survived…though he hadn’t really healed. Instead, he’d weaponized his grief, using it like a shield against any potential heartbreak. As if loss could be prevented by refusing to truly live. If he didn’t get his shit together, he’d let his past—and his fear—fuck his future for good.

And he’d have no one to blame but himself.

The realization slammed into him like a wrecking ball. He couldn’t put off this decision. They intended to start their tomorrows tonight. Right now. So he had to choose: stay paralyzed by fear and lose everything…or step into uncertainty and fight for the life he wanted?

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Dirty Little Secret Read Online Riley Hart http://www.ilovenovels.com/dirty-little-secret-read-online-riley-hart Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:12 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/dirty-little-secret-read-online-riley-hart Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, M-M Romance, Taboo Authors: Riley Hart Advertisement

Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >94

James
I’m forty years old, a tenured professor with investments, property, and a 401k.

But what I crave is to submit. To hand over control to Colton. We met on an app. His needs matched mine. It was only supposed to be once, then twice. No commitment, so I don’t feel bad cutting contact.

Then my world implodes when I get custody of siblings I didn’t know I have.

Everything would have been fine, I would have survived on my own, if not for Sir, my hookup, walking through the doors of my classroom.

He’s over a decade younger than me, and now I’m his professor, yet Sir is giving me schedules I need and caretaking from a distance. I know I should stay away, but I can’t. No matter what he gives me, I want more.

Colton
I’m twenty-eight years old, starting my first semester as a transfer student at a local university, finally following my dreams.

And then I see him, the sub I haven’t stopped thinking about, the one who comes undone for me in ways I’ve never experienced before. He makes all my Dominant instincts flare to life. I’ve always loved caretaking, but James makes me need it on a bone-deep level.

It’s not long before he’s on his knees for me again, surrendering in ways we both crave. He’s forbidden, my professor, my good boy, and I’m his Sir…his dirty little secret. But it’s not enough. I want it all from him, if only he’ll let me have it.

Dirty Little Secret is a student/professor romance, with an older sub and a younger Dom. Please use the look inside feature for a more in-depth content description and warning

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

James

May

I can’t stop my fingers from drumming against the steering wheel.

Traffic is ridiculous, which means I’m running the risk of being late. Well, not late, really, because I’m never late for anything, but running the risk of not arriving at least fifteen minutes early, like I do with everything.

What will Sir think if I’m not timely?

Tap, tap, tap, tap. My fingers continue to move as I sit at the red light, playing a rapid beat that matches my pulse.

This is my second time meeting with Colton, and I don’t want to disappoint him already. Even more importantly, being late would mess with my head, and it’s already hectic in there, no matter how much I try to pretend it’s not. That’s one of the reasons I need this—the discipline, the organization, not having to decide what to do. In every other aspect of my life, I need control, but this, in these moments and if I find the right Dom, I’m able to get out of my head and just be.

I startle when the car behind me honks, letting me know the light is green.

“Get it together, James,” I say softly to myself, frustrated I was spacing out like that. I’m usually very good at holding it together—I depend on being able to hold it together.

Focus. Most of life’s problems can be dealt with by hard work, focus, and determination, so that’s what I force myself to do the rest of the drive to the house I own in a suburban neighborhood. It’s farther from the college where I teach political science. I don’t live here. I don’t even know why I bought it, but once I started meeting up with Doms, it became a place to do that.

I pull into the driveway at three. I park beside Sir’s older SUV. I don’t know what he does for a living, but from the things he’s said and his callouses when he touches me, I assume it’s something with his hands.

It fits him. I can’t imagine him doing anything else, which is…typically not my thing, but nothing about Sir is similar to any of the Doms I’ve played with in the past—the biggest being that he’s younger than me. Twenty-eight to my forty. He mentioned his age in his bio on the BDSM site where we met. I wasn’t sure it would work, how I would feel about submitting to someone younger, but when he messaged, it had been a long time since I’d given in to this need, and everything he’d said or done had been exactly what I’d needed.

I thought it’d be a one-time thing—it usually is for me—but here we are, meeting a second time for him to control and fuck me.

My fingers tremble, frustration making the back of my neck prickle. I should have been here before him. I hate that he arrived first.

Sir is already out of his SUV by the time I get out, walking around my vehicle toward me.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” I tell him, and he frowns.

“You’re not late. It’s two fifty-five. We said three. You’re all good.”

I don’t know him well—or at all, really—but from what I’ve seen, nothing seems to rattle him. It’s like everything just rolls off his shoulders, this lightness to him I’ve never had myself, and frankly, wouldn’t know what to do with.

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Their Bad Girl – The Institute Read Online Emily Tilton http://www.ilovenovels.com/their-bad-girl-the-institute-read-online-emily-tilton Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/their-bad-girl-the-institute-read-online-emily-tilton Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic Authors: Emily Tilton Advertisement

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

When she makes an enemy of the ruthless, powerful megacorporation that all but runs the country, Pamela Nelson’s hacking and cyber espionage abilities will be put to the test

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Pam

I looked down at Leo’s lap, his erection obvious through his pants as he sat in the tired office chair he had pulled up to ‘look at my work.’ I hated this part. I always hated this part. He had no idea what I was actually doing, but he would ask stupid questions until I gave him what he truly wanted, though would never admit to wanting.

And I needed him distracted, compliant, and too satisfied to interfere with my hacking of the Houseworks server architecture. So I slid off my chair and moved between his knees, keeping my face carefully neutral.

“You’re tense,” I said, reaching for his belt. “Let me help.”

Leo’s hand came to rest on top of my head, fingers threading through my hair in that possessive way he thought was affectionate. “You’re so good to me, Pam.”

I wasn’t good to him. I was using him. But he was too stupid and too arrogant to see it, which made him perfect.

I pulled his cock free and wrapped my fingers around the base. At least a blowjob was better than actual sex—less invasive, less vulnerable, less of myself given away. I could control the pace, control the angle, control when it ended. There was a kind of power in that, even if it came at the cost of having his dick in my mouth.

I took him in, letting my tongue work along the underside while my mind wandered to the code waiting on my screen. Three more hours. That’s all I needed. Three more hours to finish the final authentication bypass, and the ransomware would be ready to deploy. Leo thought we were launching it together next week, following his careful timeline, his risk assessments, his need to feel like the mastermind.

He had no idea I was going to activate it tonight; that I had decided I couldn’t risk him fucking it up, so I would move things ahead and make Leo feel like this was what he had planned all along.

His breathing quickened above me, and I increased the suction, hollowing my cheeks. Get him there faster. Get back to work.

“Fuck, Pam,” he groaned, his hips jerking slightly. “Just like that.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Men were so predictable. A few well-practiced movements and they thought you were a goddess. I kept working him, my hand moving in rhythm with my mouth, watching for the telltale signs—the tension in his thighs, the way his fingers tightened in my hair.

He came with a low grunt, and I grabbed the towel I’d strategically placed on his desk earlier, pulling back just in time and directing his semen into the terrycloth. At least he had the decency not to demand to be allowed to make a mess I’d have to deal with. He slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, that satisfied smirk on his face that made me want to punch him.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

I wiped my mouth and stood, already turning back toward my workstation. “I know.”

“Come here.” His hand reached for me, but I was already moving away.

“Can’t. Need to finish the subnet routing before the security sweep at midnight.” I dropped back into my chair and pulled up the terminal window, my fingers flying across the keyboard. The authentication bypass was downright elegant in its simplicity—three nested functions that would give me root access to every Houseworks facility in the world. Selecta’s little experiment in dominating the domestic services sector would pay off big time—for me… and for Leo, I guessed, grudgingly. He’d footed the bill for my insane computer needs, after all.

Behind me, Leo was zipping up, post-orgasm contentment making him docile. Perfect. I had maybe twenty minutes before his brain started working again and he’d want to ‘collaborate’ on something, which really meant looking over my shoulder and suggesting idiotic changes.

“You work too hard,” he said, his voice lazy.

“Someone has to.” I kept my eyes on the screen, watching the progress bar creep forward as my script compiled. Seventy-three percent. “Besides, I thought you wanted this done right.”

“I do. I just—” His phone buzzed on the desk. He picked it up, and I heard him swipe to answer. “Hey, Marcus. Yeah, man, what’s up?”

My shoulders tensed, but I didn’t turn around. Marcus was one of Leo’s college buddies, another wannabe player who thought he was smarter than he was. Just keep it short, I thought. Just keep it short and hang up.

“Oh, you know,” Leo said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, that pride that came before the fall. “Just putting the finishing touches on something big. Really big.”

No. Don’t.

“Can’t say much, but let’s just say Houseworks is about to learn what happens when they⁠—”

I spun in my chair. “Leo.”

He glanced at me, held up one finger. Wait. “Yeah, ransomware. Custom job. Pam’s a fucking genius with⁠—”

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Collared for Christmas – Highest Bidder Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters http://www.ilovenovels.com/collared-for-christmas-highest-bidder-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:08 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/collared-for-christmas-highest-bidder-read-online-w-winters-willow-winters Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Novella Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement

Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 10240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 51(@200wpm)___ 41(@250wpm)___ 34(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 >11

From Wall Street Journal & USA TODAY Bestselling Author Willow Winters comes a Highest Bidder Holiday Short

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

JOSHUA

Isigh heavily at my desk knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. But I fucking want to. I lean back in the leather chair, staring across the room with the tips of my fingers tapping on the Mahogany desk.

It’s been years since I’ve seen her and now that I’ve had a glimpse of my sweet cherry, I can’t get her out of my head.

What’s worse is she didn’t even see me. Or maybe it’s better that way. I’m not sure.

It was her voice that made me turn. The soft cadence that spilled from those beautiful lips. Had I never heard her, I wouldn’t have seen her. It’s incredible how sometimes fate gives you just enough of a glimpse to change everything.

I close my eyes remembering the sweet sound of her voice. She ordered a salted caramel coffee and a blueberry muffin to go. I huff a small laugh at the memory. She always had a sweet tooth. Her pale pink, A-line dress flowed below her hips as she moved across the glass display case, smiling sweetly as the young man handed her the muffin.

She nibbled on the muffin as she waited for her coffee. Those plump lips parting ever so slightly as she pushed a stray crumb into her mouth and sucked gently on her finger. She’ll never know just how tempting and sexy she is without even trying. The sight made my dick twitch. I remember how she wrapped those lips around my cock and owned me as she sucked me off. I groan in my chair trying to push the past out of my mind.

I was stuck there, in my seat at the far corner of the coffee shop, frozen in time, watching her as though I weren’t really there. The paper in my lap and an espresso on the small, white table in front of me, I stared at her with desire.

I couldn’t believe she was there right in front of me. As if the time hadn’t passed and we hadn’t parted all those years ago. I sat there in awe until she accepted her coffee with a smile, taking a sip as she strode to the front, shifting the purse on her shoulder as she pushed the door open and left, blending into the hustle and bustle of the city.

I smile at the memory, back when we were together, she never drank coffee. It doesn’t surprise me that she ordered it flavored and added so much damn sugar to it.

I had no idea she’d moved to the city. I had no clue she was anywhere near me. My Cherry.

I’m ashamed to remember how I followed her to her office building. The winter air blowing in my face and the Christmas carolers already out in the morning on the corners of the busy streets. I walked into the sleek skyrise with shiny steel and tall glass windows. I’ve driven past this building a thousand times. I remember thinking there’s no way she’s been this close to me all this time.

I walked in behind her and watched as she walked through the marble floored lobby of Parker-Moore and confidently strode towards the elevator. I walked to the fountain in the center of the lobby and watched as she took small bites of what was left of the muffin, waiting for the elevator to ding and take her away from me.

I look back to the screen on my computer. All of her information is there. Alena Morgan. She’s a chief advisor for a prominent sales company now. After years of schooling and a prestigious internship. Now she’s back. Back in my life with her dreams accomplished.

And according to her background check, her name is the only one on the lease.

Which means she’s single. As far as I can tell she is.

I fucking hope she is. I want her now even more than I wanted her then. I knew I’d hold her back, I knew she needed more from life than what I had to offer back then. Fuck, we were only just experiencing life and I wanted to keep her all to myself. I felt selfish and like an asshole for making her feel like she needed to run. And when she walked away, I let her go without fighting.

The day she left me tore a hole in my heart, filled only by my work. I worked in private security with a good friend of mine, Isaac. Every fucking day, I was working. Trying to ignore the fact that I’d let her slip away.

She was mine. Had I told her no, she wasn’t leaving, I think she would have rebelled, but I could have disciplined her and she would have fucking loved it. She would have seen how good it felt. How much she wanted it as much as I did. We could have made it work. But back then, I wasn’t the man I am now and I sure as fuck wasn’t the Dom I am now.

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The Memories We Made – Remembering Us – Part 1 (The Game #15) Read Online Cara Dee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-memories-we-made-remembering-us-part-1-the-game-15-read-online-cara-dee Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:14:13 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-memories-we-made-remembering-us-part-1-the-game-15-read-online-cara-dee Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, M-M Romance Authors: Cara Dee Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >84

The Game Series, #16 • Standalone Duet • Book 1 of 2 • Hurt/Comfort • Family • Dom/Dom • Opposites Attract • Angst
Ash and Nathan’s story begins on a blistering day in Philadelphia, with a rough-around-the-edges scaffolder yelling outside the office of a trauma specialist. Psychology major Nate decides to give this brute a piece of his mind.

The friends who told me to move on didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Moving on wasn’t happening—and I knew that better than anyone after being trapped at the bottom of a heartbreak for an excruciating year now, where I had nothing but crippling anxiety and our memories to torture me. Everything we’d built, the family we’d created, the pictures, that damn National Parks passport, the ring on my finger, echoes of laughter and promises… I’d been there, watching you, being your test subject, as you’d become the rope rigger you were today. With amusement glinting in your eyes, you’d called me the OG bondage bunny. Me, the primal predator, who thought about chasing brats through the woods, your bondage bunny.

We’d given each other laugh lines. We’d loved so damn hard. We’d stood in front of our friends and family and vowed to fight for us forever.

Almost twenty years together. Four beautiful children.

What the hell happened, Nate?

You didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. I was a coward. I’d let my fears hold us back.

The question now was if I still stood a chance, because…frankly, living without you was impossible.

I’d do anything to get you back

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Twenty years ago

Philadelphia

Ash Riley

“Oi, what’s the goddamn holdup?” I yelled down toward the sidewalk. “We still don’t have a midrail on fourth!”

“Your old man left!” Davey hollered back.

I widened my arms. “That doesn’t answer my fuckin’ question, man!”

But where the fuck had Dad gone off to? He’d told me just last night I wasn’t ready to end my apprenticeship yet, and now he’d left me alone with his crew? In triple-digit heat in the middle of fucking Philly?

“There’s somethin’ goin’ on inside!” Garcia yelled. “They stopped construction, and someone wants to talk to you!”

Oh, for the love of⁠—

I grabbed my discarded tee and tucked it into my belt, then started climbing down four flights of scaffolding—when all I wanted was to hit the nearest pool. I bet my brother wasn’t sick at all. He was probably over at our folks’ place enjoying said pool.

Once I was back to ground level, Garcia filled me in while I wiped sweat off my forehead and headed to the entrance of the office building. I didn’t know what he meant by construction stopping, because approximately fourteen million power tools were currently running and quite possibly making this the loudest neighborhood in the city.

But Garcia explained that the problem concerned the offices near the front of the building, and several people working in there had complaints. One of them wanted to talk to “whoever’s in charge” too.

“Are they fucking joking?” I asked incredulously. “Did they think fixin’ the entire exterior and the lobby of an old building was gonna be quiet? And for the record, I’m not in charge. We’re the quietest crew around for miles.” We weren’t doing any construction.

“I don’t know what to tell you, man.” He shrugged, and he pointed toward the elevators. “One of the other guys told me to get the ‘loud, shirtless fucker shouting outside the windows on the fourth floor.’”

I rolled my eyes and stepped into the car.

Go figure, Garcia smirked and stayed in the lobby.

Whatever. I didn’t need to defend myself to nobody. I was following orders. And if someone bitched about shit being loud right now, they didn’t need to talk to a lowly apprentice working for his old man’s scaffolding business. They needed to talk to the contractors or whoever owned the building.

The elevator dinged on the fourth floor, and I stepped out, only to crash into a lanky suit guy.

“Shit, my bad⁠—”

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” he blurted out and stumbled back. He pushed up his glasses and widened his eyes—and lemme tell ya, those eyes wandered. He looked to be my age, maybe a little younger.

He was hot, in that dorky yuppie way. Dark hair, a little wavy, warm features, blue eyes. Nice, cut jaw.

I flexed a little bit. That was an eight-pack, not six. They deserved all the attention.

“Wait, it’s you.” He narrowed his eyes next. “You’re the guy screaming outside my boss’s office window.”

I lifted my brows and held the elevator doors open when they tried to close. “First of all, I don’t fuckin’ scream unless the Eagles are losing⁠—”

“In other words, you’re a screamer.”

Whoa. Was this suit giving me hate-speech attitude?

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. “If I were you, I wouldn’t piss off the guy you need something from in order to please your dumbass boss. And on that note, what the hell is he expectin’? For the building to be renovated quietly?”

That made the yuppie glare, and he pointed down the hallway. “She is currently consoling a wife who just lost her husband to cancer. All her patients have suffered trauma or are drowning in grief, and there you are, right outside her window, shouting about midrails, toeboards, and couplers—whatever the fuck that is—and it’s as if you’re physically unable of uttering a single sentence without saying motherfucker, bitch-ass shit, and goddammit.”

Fuck me, he was getting hotter by the second.

I’d always liked them feisty…

“That sounds terrible,” I stated. “She shoulda rescheduled the sessions. We’ve had this job booked for months, so I’m assuming youse’ve been warned.” I leaned closer to him. “That’s three sentences without cursing, motherfucker.”

He snapped his mouth shut and clenched his jaw.

I had nothing else to say, so I backed into the elevator again and⁠—

“You ate paste as a kid, right?”

My hand shot up and caught the doors when they tried to close again before I even knew it, and I stared at him, wondering if I’d heard him right. Had he just implied I was fucking stupid?

“Seriously,” he said, stepping closer. “Do you lack compassion altogether? Have you never lost anyone? We can’t just reschedule sessions with patients who depend on us in the darkest periods of their lives. Are we supposed to sit in there till five PM every day and apologize for your language to patients who’ve just lost a loved one or struggle to get past a robbery⁠—”

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Dust and Flowers (Book of Legion – Badlands MC #1) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.ilovenovels.com/dust-and-flowers-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-1-read-online-j-a-huss Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:33:05 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/dust-and-flowers-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-1-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Forbidden Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Book of Legion - Badlands MC Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >43

If Sons of Anarchy and Yellowstone had a feral baby raised by the devil himself...

Savannah Ashby has been photographed 70,000 times—-every smile, every outfit, every moment of her perfect ranch heiress life has been documented on social media by her dead mother's cameras.

Legion Kane came out of Whitefall Prison with nothin’ but an expired driver‘s license, $27 in his wallet, and a name that means biblical demon possession.

She wears another man's three-carat diamond.
He wears a fresh MC brand burned into his chest.

They’ve been meeting in secret at an abandoned silo since they were kids.

Now her family wants him dead, his MC wants him loyal, and the only thing that matters is what happens when she meets him at midnight, whisperin’ his name like a prayer.

Montana badlands.
Outlaw bikers.
Ranch royalty.

War is coming.

DUST AND FLOWERS

Their secret just became everyone's problem.

Please This is the first book in an ongoing serial . Every novella ends on a cliff. Novellas will release weekly through book five

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER 1

Hell isn’t a place you go, it’s a place you carry back.

That’s my poetic opinion after serving three years in prison for something I didn’t do.

Willingly, I might add. Not the shit I didn’t do, but the shit I went in for.

But if you want my professional opinion on hell—and at this point in my life, I feel like I’m qualified to have a professional opinion—Hell is just… well, everything around you.

This world. These people. All the rules, all the traps, the entire fuckin’ game is rigged.

That’s hell.

It’s everywhere.

But… occasionally.

Every once in a while.

There is a day like today that makes Hell not so hot.

The gates of Whitefall Prison open in front of me. Loud, and clanging as radio chatter from the guards fills the gap between this world and that one. The June morning spreads out before me in a way I’ve never noticed before. Bright, hot, and… oddly, empty.

One of the guards starts yappin’ at me to fucking get on with it and starts the mechanism to close the gates back up as he makes pointless, hollow threats. So when I do get on with it, I pass through just before the heavy steel gates slam closed.

It’s a lot of pointless drama.

Another guard heckles me from the tower when I pause, fumbling through the yellow envelope that contains pretty much everything I own at the moment—a twenty-seven-dollar cash-out from my prison account and my driver’s license, two years expired—and remove a pack of Reds.

Demon this, the hecklin’ guard says. Demon that. Demon… Demon… Demon.

Cause that’s me.

Legion Kane.

We are many.

I take out a smoke, light it up using the Bic that also did time with me, suck in my freedom, and slowly distance myself from the three years of time I did, but didn’t have to.

Trying to remember to appreciate it.

Inhale. A ritual to keep me standing.

Exhale. The smoke drifts up like a prayer.

I take a few steps away from the prison, no urge to look back, and just scan the world before me as I continue smoking.

It’s a whole bunch of nothin’. I’m talking big sky over vast badlands and that’s about it.

But it shouldn’t be this way.

This parking lot should not be empty.

But I guess it checks out, because I’m early.

One day early.

What could that possibly mean? What government facility actually makes mistakes in your favor? It doesn’t happen.

There should be bikes here. All lined up.

Should be brothers with cuts, and grins, and the promise of whiskey.

Badlands owes me that much.

Where the fuck is everyone?

As if on cue, as if this whole fucking thing is a movie, as if I was cast in the leading role of a story no one bothered to write an ending for—the wind shifts, and suddenly, in the distance, appears a white Ford F-350. Dust blowin’ up behind it, catching sunlight in ways that make it look like somethin’ holy.

I squint my eyes, take a drag on the smoke, and watch as it screams into the parking lot like judgment day arriving early.

One day early.

The Ashby Ranch logo gleams on the door panel—a stylized "A" with barbed wire wrapped around it. In some places, money whispers. In Eastern Montana, money announces itself with chrome trim and custom wheels.

Cash Ashby skids the truck to a stop twenty feet away. The engine idles like it’s alive. Baring its teeth, waitin’ to bite. He kills it with a press of a button and the silence that follows feels deliberate, like a statement.

When the driver's door swings open, his boots hit gravel with a crunch that carries weight. And it’s not just a sound—it’s a fuckin’ proclamation. The kind that comes with land deeds, water rights, and bank accounts that never run dry.

Cash steps out, all six-four of him the product of pure Montana breeding just like the cattle he runs. His Stetson catches the morning June sun, brim pulled low, but not so low I can't see his eyes sizing me up.

What’s ol’ Legion been up to, that look says. How much has he changed. How far can I push him.

"Well goddamn, Kane. Three years looks good on you." His mouth lifts up at one corner—that half-smile that's gotten him out of bar fights and into bedroom windows across three counties. "Prison food must be better than they say."

My face plays it cool. Not because it can’t smile, it just kinda forgot how.

"Caaaaaash." I drag the word out slow, lettin’ my drawl thicken. "Thought the welcoming committee would have patches, not polo shirts."

Cash leans against his truck door, crossing one ostrich-leather boot over the other. Casual as a shiv between the ribs.

"So how was it really?" he asks, like he cares. "Life inside treating Legion Kane to all the amenities?"

I give him what he wants to hear. What men like Cash always want—stories that make them feel better about never having to find out for themselves.

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