Masked Lovers Novels & Stories

"We should check out the terrace. The light out there is gorgeous this time of day. Very romantic." Liam’s smile turned eager. "Lead the way, gorgeous." Javed turned to walk toward the terrace, a thrill of victory humming through his veins. But before he could take three steps, a heavy, iron-grip clamped around his wrist. Javed gasped as he was violently spun around. He expected to see David, but instead, he was staring directly into the chest of a thunderous, terrifyingly angry Martin Cole. Martin’s eyes were black with a lethal, suffocating rage, a muscle jumping violently in his tightly clenched jaw.

Gold Mask pulls out, and I gasp for breath, then he slaps his cock across my face. “You’ll remember this taste when you sleep.” Then he grips a fistful of my hair and bends me over the pedestal of the platform, ripping my dress open. Very easily, my dress tears and I’m totally bare, exposed to their eyes. ... And Wet. He spreads my ass, showing me off to the other masked men. “She’s dripping,” he announces. “Look at her, she's a mess already.” They all growl at this and clap their hands to together, noisily showing their approval of my reaction.

Plush velvet chairs were positioned in tiered semicircles around a central platform where a scene was already unfolding. A couple writhed together on a large bed; their bodies intertwined in a passionate embrace. The woman straddled the man, her back arched as she moved with deliberate slowness, savoring each motion. They wore matching black masks that covered the upper halves of their faces, but nothing else concealed their bodies. Holy hell. Around them, perhaps a dozen masked observers sat in rapt attention. Some watched in contemplative silence while others whispered to companions beside them. One woman traced patterns on her partner's thigh as they observed together.

The masked men cursed quietly as they took them in, eyes locked on each other. In that moment, the wife shifted in her sleep. One heavy tit spilled right out of her nightie, rosy nipple stiff. She sighed sleepily, pressed her thighs together, rubbing them slowly. "Fuck!! Look at that," the first masked guy breathed. Dropping to his knees beside the bed, he cupped her bare tit with his gloved hand, thumb pressing on the bud. He leaned in and sucked it into his mouth hungrily. The wife's mouth parted, a throaty moan slipped free. "Mhmm...oh..."

"Do you take this woman to be your wife, to stand by her through thick and thin?" "I do," the man said, his voice muffled by the mask. The guests whispered in awe. Howard Larson, the Larson family's big shot, was so in love with me that he would not let a bad cold stop our big day. He did not want to disappoint me. "Wait a second." The man's eyes darted around, and his forehead was dotted with sweat. I smiled and asked, "Howard, you're looking a bit pale. Too busy with the wedding to remember your medicine?"

"Wait... there was a woman at the masquerade ball. We met briefly, but it was just..." Bloom's eyes widened as well, her heart skipping a beat. She remembered the masked stranger she had encountered that same night, a fleeting connection shrouded in anonymity. Madam Elara's laughter grew louder, filling the room with mirth. "Ah, young love. The masquerade ball—a night when passions ran wild, and masks concealed identities." Bloom and Liam exchanged incredulous glances. "You mean...?" Madam Elara nodded, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yes, my dear Luna, Alpha Liam. You shared a moment that night, masked from each other's recognition, but bound by fate."

She says. "Really?" I reply, angrily. "How convenient for him to come back after the wedding. Only a useless man would come for his wedding night but not the wedding itself. They value the intimacy that would happen but not taking the sacred vows," I say bitterly. The door opens, and the masked bodyguard walks in, his presence commands attention and he has this aura. "What did you just say?" He demands, authoritatively. I swallow hard and stare at him, my mind racing as he advances toward me.

Fasting had made it clear that he didn't want her dead, but hadn't mentioned anything else, all this thug wanted was a good time, no one had to know, she wouldn't scream, his hands were big enough to cover her lips, and his body was hard enough to keep her from struggling, aroused and excited he reached down to his zipper with his eyes still fixed on her and felt his hardness, he was so hard he couldn't wait to have her, but he needed to be alone with her, just the two of them. " Who are you, and what do you want from me ? " Alice questioned trying to conceal her fears, she turned left and right in a panic, but only saw the two men, they wore masks over their faces, exposing only their eyes

Maloney was standing beside the counter as usual with her usual dull face. "Hey paige." One of the waitresses called. "Um?" She answered. "Table 18 please?" "Yeah sure," She gave Paige the oder for the table and then walked away surprisingly. "What's that for?" She looked at the order and scoffed. "That was a little rude," She went to the kitchen and walked towards the table to serve the man in table 18. She served the meals diligently and suddenly the man held her hand. "Excuse me?" She lift up her head to look at the man instead he saw a masked green eyed Ryan. Even with this annoying mask and the whole disguise, she still recognize his eyes and his disgusting ways. This Annoying jerk

The very air around the gates to the Academy was thick with the scent of testosterone, ambition, and masked fear. Rhea’s heart thundered in her chest, each beat loud in her ears. The scent blockers Mira had given her still clung to her skin, masking the softness of her natural scent with a sharper, neutral musk. Her bindings were tight beneath her shirt, her posture subtly stiffened to mimic the square, wider-set shoulders of the boys around her. She kept her chin tucked slightly downward—not enough to seem submissive, but just enough to avoid eye contact unless necessary.