Dark Romance Masked Man Mga Nobela at Kwento

“That’s what they all say. But we both know, Mistress… that just like you I always get what I want.” “No,” I said, stepping backward, trying not to collapse. “You’re not the one with a claim, I don’t know you and you do not know me either. ” “Neither is he,” the masked man replied darkly. “You think Asher will come for you? He’s too busy being an arrogant self centered egotistical hypocrite. He doesn’t even know where you are. Neither does he care but I do.. I care, I've always cared.” I stared at him, my lips curling into a slow smile. “Asher? Me? The hell am I supposed to do with Asher.. You really don’t know me. You.. you got the wrong girl.”

Everyone wore masks—half faces, full faces, sequins, feathers. Eden wore black lace that fit her like liquid night. Cassian wore a sharp suit and a silver mask that turned him into a stranger she wanted to know. They danced slowly. Close. The world fading around them. Until someone whispered her name. “Eden.” She turned. A man in a white mask stood behind her, tall and sharp-eyed. “We need to talk. Alone.” Cassian stepped between them. “She’s with me.” The man smirked. “But does she know who you really are?”

"Must be nice to have these two bitches jiggling while your cunt rides my cock. Damn, I so want to do you right here in the open. Isn't that exciting?" "I... Sir, please let go of me." But her pleas fell on deaf ears. He turned her to face him and lifted her face with a finger. "I'll let you go without a scratch if you kiss me." She blenched. No way was she doing that. "3... 2... 1. It's settled then. No kisses but injuries. Wise choice, young lady," the man chuckled, making her flinch. "Since you're too timid to suggest a game, I'll do the honours. Firstly, shut those things you call eyes," the masked man ordered, making more alarm bells ring in her head.

The man in the clown mask moved like he was dancing, yet every step seemed like a fight to pull Amelia away from Lucas. Lucas’ expression was like stone. He kept dancing while fending off the masked man. Something about the masked man gave off a dangerous air, setting Lucas on edge. There was no way he would let another man take Amelia from him. Under the mask, Amelia’s brows drew together. She quickly guessed who the masked man was, Terrence. His black pupils might have fooled others, but she knew his aggressive aura too well. He must have been wearing colored contact lenses; his real eyes were blue. Even with only his eyes visible, she could almost see the devilish grin on that handsome fa

Tomorrow was supposed to be my engagement party with my fiance, Jason Miller. To surprise him, I flew back a day earlier after spending three long years studying abroad in London. The moment my plane landed, I called him. But he just laughed and casually dropped a bombshell. He had lost a high-stakes poker game, and he had just wagered me off to his friend as a free maid for a month. Before I could even speak, my phone lit up with a notification. He had added me to his wealthy inner-circle group chat. The title was vicious. [Congrats to Marcus on his new ugly maid!] Jason dropped a photo of me, from before I left the country, into the chat. In the picture, my skin was broken out,

Dully, through the corner of my eyes, I see that the other masked men have taken out their cocks and are stroking themselves, but I don't get much of a look as He chokes me lightly, thrusting deep into me at that spot. My eyes roll into the back of my head, and he keeps fuking me deeper. “You belong to the mask now. You’re nothing but an anonymous cum- doll; Do you understand?” “Yes---- use me---- please------” Someone walks to us then, and He pauses, giving me time to catch my breath and look up to see who it is. It's a man wearing a silver mask. He cups my left breast, and squeezes it. “Can I taste her?” he asks and Gold Mask grunts.

The sight of him in a mask was unnerving, amplifying her unease. Demetri wore a tailored purple brocade rocker-style groom suit, complete with black satin peak lapels and cuffs that sharpened his already commanding presence. His golden and black Roman god-inspired Venetian mask only intensified his formidable allure. He was undeniably handsome, intimidatingly but even his striking looks couldn’t dispel her deep-rooted fear of masked men. As she reached for the bottle of wine to refill her glass, Demetri’s hand gently stopped her. His palm covered hers, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected jolt through her. Snow quickly withdrew her trembling hand, placing it at her side.

I did a slow twirl so he could get the full view, then giggled when he hummed deep in his chest. “She is quite lovely,” Mr. Smith, a fake name no doubt, said, murmurs of agreement behind him. “Why the mask, if you don’t mind my asking?” “She’s shy,” Darren said, licking his lips and grabbing me by the hips. He turned my body for the camera, then grabbed my chin and pulled my face towards his. “And the mystery behind the mask, the idea she could be anyone I wanted her to be turns me on.” His teeth tugged on my bottom lip, sucking it lightly. I gasped and mewled, the pain feeling good. I felt it down there. I didn’t think I would. Not while still being mated.

I suggested, “I can be a good rep for you” "it's alright," Leo shrugged “I got this” He guided me off the dance floor toward our table. "It won't take long." I sat at our table, feeling anxious as I watched Leo approach the mysterious figure, lean in close to speak. There was something familiar about their interaction that made me wonder why it was necessary. I was contemplating whether to go somewhere else when a man in a gold-trimmed black mask appeared before me. "A beautiful lady shouldn't be sitting alone at a masquerade," he said, offering his hand. "May I tempt you with a drink at the bar?"

The noble’s hand tightens around hers, his grip unrelenting. “Stay away from him,” he says, voice dangerously soft. There’s no amusement in his tone anymore, no veil of indifference. For the first time, Emery senses something deeper beneath his perfect, detached mask—something dark and possessive. The masked man, the one who should be dead, extends his hand toward her. “This time,” he murmurs, “let’s see if you make the right choice.” The room shudders. The walls ripple, the chandeliers flicker.