Masked Men Dark Romance Books Novels & Stories

She raged, looking in his direction as he got up and walked towards her, stalking her like she was prey. "I was going to let you go after the first day.. but now I don't think I can do that." He stopped walking and stood over her like a shadow. Madison gulped, trying to remain brave even though she was dying from fear. Who was this man? Was he really the devil like everyone called him? "Why?" She sniffed, her voice coming out shaky. A dark grin played across his face. "Because you're the first to give me a boner just from the sound of your voice."

Sudden heat woke Miguel from sleep. He was still very dazed, but saw an unearthly beautiful woman approaching him, her brown curls flowing down the bare shoulders, an olive shade, as was the rest of her skin. The woman's eyes were black with a clearly visible desire in them, her lips were full, pink, arranged in a wonderful smile. The features were perfect, making her the most beautiful woman Miguel had ever seen in his life. Then his attention was drawn to her figure - so streamlined, full of wonderful feminine shapes, but at the same time slim, with perfect size. She was beautiful, like a woman from a dream... Miguel really thought he was dreaming because it couldn't be real, she had to be

I wasn't a techie but I was up-to-date on all the latest gadgets. I shrugged mentally. It must be exclusive to The Order. Any sort of hope I had was dashed by the video. On screen I saw James in a dark room with three men. I'd never seen them before but I would recognise the white thunder shaped tattoo anywhere. The White Light.

My smoky make-up only made me look a whole lot more appealing to men who were around, and for a woman who didn’t like having men around her, I was surprised to see two sitting by her side, each one of them trying to impress her. “Care to dance, pretty face?” A man asked. I glared at him, taking a step back. I knew that I needed to create a diversion as to catch Helena’s attention, and the man was just what I planned on using. I raised my hands in surrender, not wanting him to touch me, pretending to be scared “I don’t bite, not hard anyway” “DON’T TOUCH ME!” I yelled despite the man being a few inches away from me. That seemed to catch the men’s attention, and if I was lucky, Helena’s too. T

Seated behind the desk is a man of my age, a cigar between his lips. I’m impressed. “Wolf,” I say. “Ah!” The man stands, flashes a wide grin, and crushes the cigar on the ashtray. “None other than Master Brandon Lucien is here. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” He moves to me and reaches out a hand. I grip his firmly. “Please have a seat.” He motions to the couch and sits first. “I know it’s not the perfect time to have a drink—given that Mr. Katrakis is still missing, but is there anything you like? Scotch, whiskey, wine?”

Lucian whispered, trailing his finger over her face. Finally, Lucian left the room. The book sat on the desk, its dark cover gleaming ominously. He could feel its pull, the promise of power and throne. But one thing rang in his mind, he had to find her, and for the first time, Lucian felt a glimmer of light. But the battle was far from over. The shadows within him stirred, restless and insistent, opposing him from making a stupid step again.

Branches from overgrown bushes clawed at my arms as I darted through winding alleyways. My lungs burned. My legs trembled. But I couldn't stop. They were behind me. I could hear them. I turned a corner blindly, rain blurring my vision. And crashed into something solid. The world tilted as I collided with a broad chest. Strong arms caught me before I could fall. I looked up, gasping for breath, and froze. A man. Tall, powerful, dressed in black despite the rain. Dark eyes that seemed to pierce right through me, sharp, unreadable, intense.

He stumbles back a step, surprised, ass hitting the edge of the leather chaise. I straddle him in one fluid motion, knees pinning his thighs, hands on his shoulders. The mask stays half-on, shadows playing games with my features. "You like control, Mr. Blackwood? Try letting go." His hands roam up my sides, bold now, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts through the corset. "Call me Damien." It's a command, but there's a hitch in it, curiosity, desire. He tugs at the lace again, gentler this time. "Show me your face."

Not dark and dangerous. “Have you done this before?” He walked back toward me slowly, gently tapping the blindfold against his palm. I shook my head, unable to speak. I stepped back slowly as he approached. His gaze was dark and predatory—and I loved it. I really did. “Shall I be the first?” he asked. I didn’t know whether to say yes or no. I stopped when my back hit the wall and leaned against the cold tile. “I’ll take your silence as a yes, kitty,” he smirked. One hand traced lazy patterns along my hip while the other rested on the wall above my head. He leaned in close—so close I could still smell champagne on his breath.

His eyes followed my movement and darkened as a muscle ticked under his stubbled jaw. Who was this man? He seemed familiar. Important. Now I wished my brothers had remained behind so I could ask them. The man was tall. Taller than most men, including my brothers. Dressed in all black and a gray coat that reached to his knees. He looked elegant. Dark. Dangerous. Familiar. The feeling of familiarity pulled on my consciousness. The voice in my head. Stay alive, Tatiana. For me. Stay alive, moya luna. It called to me - calling me his moon. His eyes were intense, even from this distance. There was something uncomfortable in his dark gaze - borderline aching. It was as if he demanded something fro