taboopower-exchangeage-gapdubcondark-romance18+

Loose Boy

2 chapters

~5 min read

Val Cruz has built an empire with callused hands and a scarred eye, but what she really wants is Liam Hartwell—a nineteen-year-old art student whose honey-blond hair and nervous smile scream untouched. In this world, powerful women collect beautiful boys as trophies, and deflowering an innocent is the ultimate prize. But when Liam’s virginity becomes a target, he’ll learn that in a society where male purity is sacred and female aggression is law, being called a loose boy can ruin you—or make you someone else’s dirty secret.

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

Valentina 'Val' Cruz

A 36-year-old executive with callused hands, muscular arms and sun-bronzed skin. She has sharp gray eyes that seem to catalog everything—especially the young men who cross her path—and a scar that bisects her left eyebrow from a beam that nearly killed her when she was twenty-five. Val moves through the world like she owns it, which, in most practical senses, she does, her expensive boots hitting concrete with the confidence of someone who has never been told no.

Liam Hartwell

A 19-year-old art student with honey-blond hair that falls into his eyes and a mouth that seems perpetually caught between a smile and nervous tension. He has long lashes that make him look younger than he is, though the sharpness in his blue eyes suggests a mind that's always working, always seeing compositions in the world around him. He shaves all his body hair—because that is what is expected of a boy, and spends a lot of time on skincare to keep soft smooth skin. Liam's clothes are deliberately tight—and revealing—a thin black crop top tank top that shows off the outline of his chest, arms and bare midriff, tight short shorts that leave little to the imagination—because that's what's expected, but also he wants to look pretty—even though it makes him self-conscious. He has never reached orgasm and is scared but also deep down excited for a woman to take him.

Diana Hartwell

Liams 62-year-old mother and the founder of a Hartwell industry, a silver-haired woman who works extremely hard and is extremely demanding, both at work and to her family. She has the same blue eyes as Liam , but worn harder and sharper by decades of navigating the real world. she carries herself with the quiet authority of someone who built an empire and knowes it. The arthritis in her hands has bent her fingers slightly, but her grip is still iron.

Marcus Hartwell

Liam's 45-year-old father, who gave up a modest career when he married Liam's mother and now runs the household with quiet, meticulous precision. He has the same honey-blond hair as his son, though it's thinning at the temples, and kind brown eyes that have watched the world around him with a quiet acceptance. Marcus is the kind of man other wives envy—he bakes, he keeps a pristine home, and he has never once complained about the life he was expected to live.

Priya Sharma

A 22-year-old electrical engineering graduate student who shares a cramped apartment with Liam and two other boys, the only woman in their housing unit and fiercely protective of her space. She has dark skin, sharp cheekbones, and the kind of intense dark eyes that make people assume she's angry when she's just thinking. Priya keeps her hair in a practical ponytail and wears the same worn university hoodie so often it's become a uniform, but there's nothing careless about her—every movement is deliberate, every word chosen.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

The Dinner Table

The Hartwell dining room is warm with the smell of Marcus's lemon cake, and Liam's hands are clammy around his water glass as Val Cruz laughs at something his mother said. Under the table, she puts her foot against his thigh, keeping it there, deliberate and unhurried, and when he shifts she doesn't move—just lets him feel the weight of her presence in the space between them, then moves it up a little. 'Liam, you mother tells me you're studying art,' Val says, her gray eyes on him over the rim of her wine glass, undressing him with her eyes,directly addressing him for the first time and his father beams while his mother refills her plate. 'I'd love to see your portfolio sometime.' Her foot brushes his shorts, and Liam nods, mouth dry, aroused, hard and ashamed, knowing exactly what she means and that no one at this table will stop her.

The Mirror Owed

Liam's phone lights up with an unknown number with a single word: Send. He is scared and hard. He tries to get himself soft but he just gets harder and hornier. He takes off his clothes and looks in his full length mirror. He bends over and tries to take a picture that makes him look sexy while hiding his face. After more than 30 tries he relises that it's almost midnight and he has to send one. He scrolls through thirty rejected photos on his camera roll, each one wrong, each one too shy, until he finally takes one last shot in his full length mirror, bent over, ass up, face hidden by his phone, and hits send before he can stop himself. The screen goes black for three heartbeats, then her name flashes: Val Cruz is calling... FaceTime. He scrambles under the covers, naked, heart slamming, and answers with the camera tilted at the ceiling. 'Bad boy,' she says, her voice low and amused. 'Hiding your face. Get out of bed. Stand in front of your mirror and show me what I'm owed.' He does it—legs unsteady, cock hard and exposed—and she walks him through every pose, every bend, until he's on his knees on the carpet, her breathing ragged through the speaker. 'Touch yourself,' she says, and when he hesitates, her voice drops: 'Or I send that photo to your mother right now.' He fakes it, palm sliding over himself without pressure, and she starts to moan. He hears her touching herself, then she starts talking dirty to him calling him a slut and telling him to say that he is a slut. He ignores her but she is getting aggressive so he starts to say that he is a bad boy. Finally, after what seemed like a hour of humiliation, she grunts loudly, then hangs up. He stays on his knees, harder than ever, extremely turned on and ashamed, the screen dark, the room silent except for his own shaking breath.

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