Authors Barely Disguised Novels & Stories

They are deeply in thought, Authur was wearing a custom white shirt and black pants while standing by the windows, he was mysterious, dignified and strong at the same time. "What are you talking about?" Brayden answered nonchalantly still puffing on his cigarette. "You know exactly what am talking about, it is like you two are cubbed into a web of love." Authur smirked facing Rowland to say something. "I think Rowland is cubbed up already, I heard his Grandpa have match make our friend already." Brayden chuckled choking on his cigarette, he let out two cough. Rowland gave him a look 'that serve you best.'

The deep burgundy fabric glinted faintly in the sun, a bold contrast to the plain white linen of her undershirt. My mouth practically watered when my eyes caught a glimpse of the main attraction of her attire. Her supple breasts pressed firmly beneath her top. The bodice made it to where there was just enough cleavage, and just enough room to move around freely. “My eyes are up here.” Amara’s voice broke through my thoughts. I blinked once, then dragged my eyes up to meet hers. She was already smirking—barely, but enough to make my jaw tick. “I wasn’t looking,” I lied flatly.

Dressed in overly elaborate gowns that seemed to weigh them down, the two girls clung to the edges of the celebration like shadows refusing to step into the warm light. Clarice’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest in a fragile, defensive posture, while Saphrina nervously twisted a fold of her silk skirt, her eyes dropping away in shame whenever anyone glanced in their direction. I felt a subtle shift in Steele’s posture beside me. He had seen them, too. Instead of turning away, I gently squeezed his hand. "Come with me," I whispered, guiding him toward their quiet corner. "They shouldn't have to carry that weight tonight."

"And tonight, you are the inspiration for a different kind of masterpiece." Athena's breath caught in her throat as Ardolf's words wrapped around her like a silken thread. She reached up, her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, the anticipation of what lay ahead causing her heart to race. As the fabric fell away, revealing his sculpted chest and the intricate inked patterns that adorned his skin, she marveled at the vulnerability he was sharing with her.

Now that chance rested entirely on her trembling shoulders. --- The Plan Amara glanced down at her disguise—a tailored black dress that clung to her body, elegant but functional, paired with a fur-lined coat. Her hair was styled in loose waves, her lips painted a dangerous shade of crimson. To the casual observer, she looked like one of Lorenzo’s many female companions, the kind who flocked to him for wealth and protection. But beneath the folds of her coat, strapped against her thigh, was a blade. In the lining of her purse, a hidden recorder. And tucked inside her bra, a tiny earpiece that crackled with the faintest sound of static.

I asked suspiciously. He pounced on me like a little kid. “Nothing particularly depraved, Tate. Just thought of a few edits. Is there any fabric under those ruffles?” She was. Underneath all that decoration, they were actually very simple black cocktail dresses on spaghetti straps. I confirmed: "Yeah, it's there."

I didn’t know what it was, but it kept me rooted to the spot. Then his eyes moved lower. A slow, unhurried assessment. My breath caught. His head tilted slightly, gaze returning to my face, and for the first time, his expression shifted—not deadpan, but something close to confusion? Amused? Or maybe just… unimpressed. I followed his gaze, looking down at myself. Oh. I was practically Naked ; The sheer pink lace lingerie ,a bralette ,high cut panties Mini robe was supposed to offer some modesty if I bothered to tie it .

The word hit like a whip—sharp and hot. I hesitated for half a second, then reached for the hem of my blouse. My fingers trembled, but I peeled it off slowly, then slid down my skirt, leaving only the soft lace of my bra and panties. My nipples were already pebbling, and the thin cups were damp with fresh milk. Vivian stepped behind me and unclasped my bra. “You don’t need to hide these,” she whispered, brushing her lips against the nape of my neck. “They’re a gift.”

Muscles shifted beneath the artwork as he moved, setting his shirt aside before starting on his belt. I slipped the dress straps from my shoulders, letting the fabric pool around my waist. The air felt cool against my skin, raising goosebumps across my exposed chest. I wore a simple white bra, nothing fancy or seductive—I hadn't planned this encounter far enough in advance to shop for lingerie. But the way Adrian's gaze darkened as it roved over me made me feel as though I was wearing the most expensive silk. "All of it," he prompted, his voice rougher now.

They carried no weapons, but their hands were elongated into heavy, five-pronged iron styluses that buzzed with the exact same sterile white ink that Garrett had used to drop the platforms. ​"The lineage cannot rewrite the press, Princess," the lead Editor said, his voice printing onto the air as a massive sheet of grey text that physically pressed down on her defensive barrier, forcing her knees to bend an inch under the weight. "The Blackwood contract was an unauthorized lease. The Aurelian restoration is an unregistered mutation. The ledger must be balanced." ​"Then let's see how you handle a manual entry," Elara growled. ​Before the Editors could lunge, she didn't look at them, she looke