Blissful Masquerade Novels & Stories

DAMON’S POV The ballroom glittered like a cage dressed in gold. Behind every mask was a lie, and I’d learned to read them all. The air was thick with perfume and deceit. I scanned the crowd, my pulse steady on the surface but pounding underneath. Sadie was somewhere here—breathing the same air as my father and Bella. The thought alone scraped like a blade down my spine. I knew why she pushed to come. Smart move—anonymity buys time. She’d asked the organizers to make it a masquerade; clever, and exactly the kind of thing she would do to buy herself a sliver of protection.

He nods lifting my head and placing it on his laps Stiffing, snapping out of my stupor I shift trying to stand up but he holds me down and reaching out for my hands to rub, sending a soothing sensation and couldn't help but close my eyes , leaving my self vulnerable In front of a stranger, …… I feel something warm pressing beneath my cheeks, half asleep ,i shift trying to get comfortable, “Damn” Jotting awake “Ahhhhhhhhhhh” feeling my scream muffining Looking from the hands covering my mouth to a certain masked face that as a expression of pain, looking down a certain huge something ,

The music pulsed through the crowded ballroom, but all I could focus on was Marcus. My mate. The one person fated to be mine forever. We swayed to the rhythm, our bodies so close, I could feel our hearts beating as one. What a night! Marcus's warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "You're a 10/10 Bella, super fine. You know, I'm the luckiest wolf alive." I blushed, my cheeks warming up. I couldn't believe this handsome guy was mine either. And he was so sweet OMG!

Her eyes lifted instead to the mirror. The glass shimmered faintly, its surface warped by years. Her reflection appeared dim, wavering. For a long moment nothing shifted. Then, as if summoned, the image changed. She was still there, but not as she stood now. The woman in the glass wore a ring on her finger and a wedding dress that shimmered in the light, though no such light existed in the room. The veil covered her head, delicate and white. Bliss’s chest rose sharply. She stepped back, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. The image did not cry. It did not speak. It only looked at her with solemn eyes, as though holding a truth she had not yet learned.

Judd said as he used a cloth to remove the excess lube and helped her to stand. "One last item," he said. He presented her with a black Venetian lace mask. "I have one like it. Well, nearly anyway. The Fantasy Ball is a masquerade. No one will ever know who we are." Using the tip of her forefinger, Jessi lightly stroked the beautiful creation. Delicate black filigree would cover most of her face from her upper lip to her forehead, and the mask had dramatic white rhinestone brows that arched from the inner corners of her eyes to the middle of her temples. She held the mask in place while Judd fastened it behind her head.

he murmured, sliding his palms up and down my exposed arms. I scooted away from the heat of his touch, my heart hammering in my chest. Then he reached behind him and pulled out a breath-takingly gorgeous mask, white and feathery and glittery. “This is for you, Goddess. Your signature disguise.” The immaculate thing was dotted with black and gold tear-drop diamonds, so exquisite they shimmered even in the dim hallway. Oh shit. This whole shenanigan got more intriguing by the minute. As I slipped on the mask and almost orgasmed from the feel of the smooth leather brushing my face, Kallum pulled me into the room and positioned me in front of a gigantic mirror.

Something about the spontaneity felt good—like I was reclaiming a part of myself I’d buried under meetings and perfectionism. Tonight, there were no pitches. No edits. No expectations. Just me, Rachel, a dance floor, and whatever kind of trouble we could get into wearing masks. ⸻ Masquerade looked like a fever dream. Velvet ropes. Gold-plated trim. A bouncer who looked carved from granite stood guard. Except us. “Hey, Mikey,” Rachel purred, lifting her fox mask just enough to flash a smile. “Rachel,” he grinned. “You’re late.”

The blue-masked woman moved behind, her hands sliding up my back, unfastening my gown to let it fall, exposing my breasts to the cool air, her mouth descending to suck a nipple hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. “Oh god,” I whimpered, the combined assault overwhelming, and the gold-masked leader chuckled, stepping closer, her hands cupping my face, kissing me deeply, her tongue dominating mine. The silver-masked woman increased the vibrator’s speed, the hum intensifying, while the purple-masked woman added a third finger, thrusting deep into my wet cunt, stretching me further. The red-masked woman’s tongue delved deeper, her hands spreading my thighs wider, and I rocked against her face

“I just— I thought William’s wife was someone else. A woman named Elise. At the masquerade party—” “Oh, don’t be silly,” Jasmine said with a cheerful demeanor. “I used a fake French accent. It was a masquerade party, after all. The whole point was to be someone else. And after being blindsided and betrayed by my ex-husband? Well, I quite enjoyed the fantasy.” Martin’s jaw tightened. I could see the sweat beading along his forehead. His hands rubbed his thighs unconsciously. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something to ground him.