Beauty In The Boy's Dorm
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
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Chapter 4
Lana's Point of View
We all have classes early this morning, so I woke up earlier. I got up from my bed by 5:30, climbed down the ladder from the bunk.
I picked up the uniform that I hung in the closet and tiptoed to the bathroom, making sure that I was quiet enough not to wake anyone up.
I turned on the lock as soon as I got inside for guaranteed protection. I can't let anyone catch me naked while I bathe.
Especially not Noah, anyone but Noah. I don't even want to imagine his reaction.
I took my bath as quickly as I could, changing into my uniform, double-checking myself to see that everything was fine in the mirror.
My breasts were well hidden, and any other signs of my femininity were tucked away.
"Ah!" A small scream of surprise escaped my lips as I opened the door.
My other roommate was standing in front of the door, his hands tucked in the pockets of his loose pants, his jet-black hair framing his beautiful green eyes that resembled the sea.
I was so startled by his presence that I felt my legs stumble back, and I lost my footing. He dramatically caught me before I could fall; he held me by the small of my back as he steadied me.
His palms brushed the binding around my back, and his eyes narrowed at me.
"T-Thank y-you." I stammered as I quickly escaped from his grip, about to leave the bathroom, his huge frame blocked my path, refusing to grant me freedom.
"Did you get dressed in the bathroom?" He asked suspiciously, his voice was soft, smooth, and velvety like melted butter. "It's just some minutes past six in the morning, and you are completely dressed?"
My brain turned off the instant he questioned me; I was unable to find any excuse.
"Huh, um..." I stammered. "Um... I like to be punctual."
"Maybe next time, you won't lock the door?" My panicked eyes followed him as he strolled towards the bathroom sink. "I needed to use the bathroom too, but I had to wait. There are three shower tops, enough for us to bathe together, unless you are hiding something."
My breath hitched again, but I said nothing. He is suspicious of me already; he threw that statement as a trap. Depending on what I say, he might try to investigate further.
"I apologize, I am still just a little nervous," I muttered. "And I didn't have the confidence to take a shared bath."
****
"Uh, are you all done dressing up?" Noah asked as he stirred from his bed. I was at my study table as I stole glances at my other roommate while he dressed. "Why didn't anyone wake me up? It's fifteen minutes to seven. I am going to be late for class."
He suddenly flew from the bed, taking off his clothes as he ran into the bathroom. My eyes flickered back to my fingers as I could now feel my other roommates' gaze burning through me.
My heart pounded in my chest. He was suspicious of me, so I couldn't let my guard down.
We all left the room together. Noah has drawing classes today. The only person who was having science with me was my other hot roommate, whom I already have a crush on, and that meant we would have to go to class together.
"Um... Hi." I started, and only then did he glance in my direction.
I guess that's a yes, he is open to speaking.
"I apologize for locking the bathroom door earlier and taking all the time to bathe." I apologized. "I won't be so selfish next time."
"Well, as long as you understand, it is fine." He simply muttered, and I felt my cheeks heat up.
"What is your name?" I asked, and the moment his eyes met mine, I felt my breathing stop again.
I squealed internally... he is just so handsome!
"Xavier." He answered as quickly as I asked. I was about to ask another question when I bumped into something, or rather someone.
And almost immediately, the phone the person was holding fell to the ground face-first.
I jumped back almost immediately as my eyes recognized the boy in front of me, his blue eyes softened when they recognized me too.
"Is bumping into people some kind of fetish for you, femboy?" he muttered with a smirk as he reached down to pick up his phone.
Silence stretched between us as he glanced at his phone screen that now had a huge crack; he tilted his head to one side. "What are we going to do about my phone screen? Yesterday it was my coat, today it's my phone-how do you intend to pay?"
Fuck, why does trouble keep surrounding me? Why do I keep bumping into this lunatic?
"I..." I trailed off when he suddenly poked my shoulders. He towered over me oppressively, and I stared up at his very handsome face that made me blush.
"Do I have to take your blazer or demand your entire school uniform this time around and parade you naked around the school?"
Xavier suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him protectively. He stepped towards Christian in a face-off.
They both looked so hot as they stood, and my heart began thumping wildly in my chest. Christian was slightly taller than Xavier, but the two looked quite similar.
Christian was giving off the billionaire Playboy type, while Xavier gave off a cold, but possessive boyfriend type.
I mean, it's not every day hot guys fight over you, even though you are pretending to be a boy.
"That is enough," Xavier told him sternly. "This is your fault; you were on your phone while walking."
"Well, I don't remember this being any of your business." Christian retorted calmly, with a playful smirk at the edge of his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying this.
And it made me wonder if he was gay. Does he like Xavier?
"It is my business," Xavier interrupted sharply. "Alan is with me, and if you have a problem with him, you have one with me."
Heat flushed my cheeks.
Will I be caught in the middle of a gay romance between two boys? Except that I am a girl, and it would be-shut up! I snapped internally. I don't think this was all about me; there seemed to be some sort of tension between them.
Do they perhaps know each other?
A small smile tugged at Christian's face. This devilishly handsome bastard's eyes then flickered towards me, and I jolted from fear.
He leaned in, his face only a centimeter away from mine.
"Don't forget, I still have your pass, and depending on whether you are a good boy or not, I might be holding it for longer." His voice was a sultry whisper that made goosebumps rise in my skin. "Do you understand me?"
I nodded, and he smirked again, this time his hands slipping into my hair to ruffle it.
"Good boy." His voice was a deep rumble that made a pulse run through my core.
Yup, coming to an all-boys school was a mistake. I realized the only enemy I have is my raving ovaries.
Christian then sent a playful glare at Xavier before waltzing off.
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
8.1
I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge.