Where Can I Read Matthew Davis' Books?

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his c**k—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he f***s my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but f**k, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and c*m, red rooms equipped for flo****g, bo***ge, edging, and total power exchange. Expect gr**ic, immersive scenes of throat-fu****g, a**-pounding, br**ding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

When the heat becomes unbearable… desire ignites. Rival firefighters ripping off gear in a steamy locker room. Straight best friends trapped in a scorching sauna, sweat turning curiosity into raw hunger. A powerful boss bending his eager intern over the desk during a city-wide blackout. Frat rivals claiming each other roughly on the moonlit beach. Roommates, mechanics, coaches, werewolves, and strangers — all surrendering to filthy, no-limits passion. Twenty-five explosive M/M shorts packed with sweat, dominance, desperate moans, and throbbing need. Hate sex. First times. Forbidden touches. Primal releases. Each story is a fast-burning blaze — quick to light, impossible to put out. ⚠️ Extremely explicit. Graphic M/M action. 18+ only. Dare to feel the burn?

Fall in love with these bad-boy bikers — with steamy stories ranging from second-chance romances to secret hookups.The Heaven Hill Series is created by Laramie Briscoe, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

WARNING: HEAVY SMUT AHEAD!!! Mature audiences only! Proceed with caution! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “Please,” she whispered, desperation cracking her voice. “Please, Chase.”   “Begging already?” His voice was cruel, his fingers circling faster, pushing her to the edge. “I'm not even nearly done with you yet.”   She squeezed her eyes shut, the recruit’s muffled cries and the whip’s crack filling her ears, amplifying her need. Chase’s fingers were relentless, stroking her clit, and dipping inside just enough to tease.   “Please,” she whimpered, louder now, her hands gripping his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I won’t lie again. I’ll be good. Please, let me cum.”   He chuckled, his lips brushing her neck. “Not yet, baby. Fight it.”   Her body screamed, every nerve on fire, the recruit’s struggles mirroring her own. The girl’s master groaned, close to release, as Lila’s whip landed again and again on her ass.   Emma’s head felt like it was about to explode under the pressure, her thighs shook with the effort to conceal it, her pleas spilling out. “Please, Chase, I can’t hold it any longer… I need it."   "Don't. You. Dare. Come." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Picture this: A CEO pinning his partner's daughter over his desk, whispering rules that chain her soul while his cock claims her body. Or a werewolf's claws raking skin in the moonlit woods, rutting her senseless till she's howling his name. We mix it up... sweet, slow-burn romances that melt into tender fucks and whispered "I love yous," flipping to the dark side with BDSM bites, non-con edges that blur fear into filthy want, and horror vibes where ghosts fuck you cold then hot. Your panties? Ruined. Your cravings? Fed. And yet, you'll still be here begging for more. Dive in if you're brave enough.

Savage Sons Mc books 1-5 is a collection of MC romance stories which revolve around five key characters and the women they fall for. Havoc - A sweet like honey accent and a pair of hips I couldn’t keep my eyes off.That’s how it started.Darcie Summers was playing the part of my old lady to keep herself safe but we both know it’s more than that.There’s something real between us.Something passionate and primal.Something my half brother’s stupidity will rip apart unless I can get to her in time. Cyber - Everyone has that ONE person that got away, right? The one who you wished you had treated differently. For me, that girl has always been Iris.So when she turns up on Savage Sons territory needing help, I am the man for the job. Every time I look at her I see the beautiful girl I left behind but Iris is no longer that girl. What I put into motion years ago has shattered her into a million hard little pieces. And if I’m not careful they will cut my heart out. Fang-The first time I saw her, she was sat on the side of the road drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. The second time was when I hit her dog. I had promised myself never to get involved with another woman after the death of my wife. But Gypsy was different. Sweeter, kinder and with a mouth that could make a sailor blush. She was also too good for me. I am Fang, President of the Savage Sons. I am not a good man, I’ve taken more lives than I care to admit even to myself. But I’m going to keep her anyway.

You think I care about titles?” he asked, stepping even closer until I could feel the heat radiating from him. “Do you think that matters to me?” “It should,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “It matters to me.” He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" “Because,” I said quickly, searching for the right words. “Because people like me... we don’t belong with people like you. You’re... you’re powerful, and I’m—” “Beautiful,” he cut me off, his voice firm. I froze, my words dying on my lips. “What?” I whispered. “You’re beautiful, Sophia,” he said again, his tone softer this time. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t notice it. You think being a maid defines you, but it doesn’t. Not to me.”