Masky Marble Hornets Novels & Stories

“You sure you wanna do this, baby girl?” His voice is a growl against my ear as he lifts me onto the cold marble island. One hand grips my thigh. The other tangles in my hair. “Because once I have you…” He leans in, breath hot, filthy. “I’m not letting you go.” This story contains explicit sexual content, profanity, morally gray characters, and themes of seduction, manipulation, and obsession. It is strictly intended for readers 18+ only. Read at your own delicious risk. Lana runs straight into heartbreak when she catches her boyfriend in her mother’s bed. Humiliated and furious, she leaves home with one goal in mind — to take back the power her mother stole from her. She finds herself at the mansion of Roman Vale, her mother’s newly married billionaire husband. Cold, controlled, and emotionally distant, Roman agrees to let her stay, believing it’s only temporary. But Lana isn’t there for comfort. She starts a dangerous game, tempting the one man she should never touch. Roman fights the attraction, determined to keep his distance, but the tension between them grows stronger with every passing day. What begins as revenge slowly turns into obsession. What begins as temptation becomes something neither of them can control. And once they cross the line, there’s no going back.

“Please... spare my life,” she whispered, her voice trembling like the last leaf clinging to a winter branch. Blood trickled from her split lip as she pressed her forehead to the cold marble floor, her entire body shaking with terror. “I treasure what belongs to me,” he replied, his voice cold and deadly. His gloved hand gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his merciless gaze. “And as of tonight, little ghost... you belong to me.” Born from a one-night stand between a mafia lord and a maid, Liliana Orlov entered the world with her mother’s blood staining her face. Her father, Don Nickolas Orlov never let her forget who she was - a curse! While her half-sisters wear silks, she scrubs floors. While they dine in gold-lit halls, she eats their scraps. She was the family’s whipping girl, blamed for the empire’s weakness-no male heir, no future. Then, the unthinkable happens. To end a decade-long war, Nickolas sold Liliana to his greatest enemy Mikhail Volkov also known as “The Reaper” the heir to the most powerful and brutal mafia dynasty. Her fate was sealed. She entered into a forced marriage to secure peace. Thrown into a gilded cage, Liliana faces a man more merciless than her father. Is survival enough… or will she dare to want more? Or Will a man who rules through fear finally learn to kneel to love? Find out more in the story!

I died with my husband's betrayal on my lips and my unborn child in my womb. One moment I was Mia Weston — billionaire, wife, mother-to-be. The next, I was gone. Erased. Traded like a chess piece by the man who swore to love me forever. Then I woke up. Silk sheets. Marble walls. A maid calling me "My Lady." And a father I had never met looking me dead in the eyes saying — "You have been promised to King Zyren of the Draconis Throne. You leave at sunrise." I thought I was dreaming. I was wrong. King Zyren is not a man. He is ancient, ruthless, and devastatingly beautiful in the way that only dangerous things are. He doesn't smile. He doesn't explain. He simply looks at me like I am something he has been waiting for — and that look alone makes my whole body tremble. He calls me his traded bride. I call him my nightmare. But nightmares don't look at you like you are the only breathable air in a burning room. Nightmares don't press you against cold stone walls and whisper "You will learn your place, little human" with a voice so deep it rewrites your bones. And nightmares definitely don't make you forget — even for one dangerous, breathless second — the man who killed you. I was sold to settle a debt. He had waited centuries for exactly me. Neither of us was prepared for what came next.

When I pushed open the oakwood door to the manor’s study, I never expected to walk into such a scene. Juliana was sprawled across the desk, her posture leaving little to the imagination. As if not R-rated enough, her mini dress was pulled up to her waist, and her black lace clung to her thigh, barely covering her modesty. She looked back with a smile. “Alessia, my back is acting up again. Matteo’s just helping me out.” Matteo, my husband and a Don, rose to his feet, a tube of ointment in hand. He didn’t look like someone who had been caught out. “She couldn’t reach her back, so I thought I ought to lend a hand.” Matteo grabbed the dressing and pressed the gauze against her skin. He sure took his time. Tilting her head, Juliana met my gaze. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We grew up together. That’s how family is. We don’t care about that kind of stuff.” In my past life, I bolted into the room and grabbed Juliana by the hair to yank her off the desk. She turned to the side, shoving me hard into the sharp corner of the desk. I hit my head on the cold marble edge. The next thing I knew, I was a dead body in the morgue. This time, I stood in the doorway motionlessly. Since Juliana wanted to play the game, I’d be sure to hold my cards close to my chest.

Ivy Sinclaire was born a powerful Heiress to House of Valemont and Manhattan royalty. But power doesn’t stop betrayal from crawling into her life, all cloaked in the form of her husband and her closest friend/ legal counsel. On the night she receives her Woman of Year award in global business, she walks into her office and finds Harry between Vivienne’s legs on her Italian marble desk—the same one she had closed multi-million deals on. The same night, her car crashes in a fiery wreck, and she’s declared dead. She is saved by the one man who’s always wanted her and her nemesis. Chase Sterling. An arrogant billionaire and philanthropist in a tailored suit. A man who’s watched Ivy from the shadows for years. Keeping his distance, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and be her hero. “They tried to kill you and they almost succeeded,” Chase scoffs, adjusting his cufflinks. “I shouldn’t have trusted them,” Ivy wipes the tears streaming down her cheeks violently. “So what now?” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll give you 30% of House of Valemont. In return, you help me destroy them.” Reborn as Victoria St. James, Ivy returns to New York unrecognizable, vengeful, and dangerous. With Chase at her side, she sets the stage for a merciless takedown, but as their dark alliance deepens into something twisted and magnetic, and the question remains: who’s really in control? Because Chase didn’t just save her… He remade her, and he has no intention of letting her go.

Rosella has everything she was told she should want: a husband who provides, a stunning home, and a life that other women secretly envy and admire. But beneath the marble floors, she is slowly falling apart. Emotional distance becomes dark temptation, and that temptation becomes a thrilling and dangerous double life. When Adrián, her husband Leo’s best friend, crosses forbidden, unspoken boundaries, and Damien, the head of security, gets drawn into her private world, Rosella is trapped in an increasingly dark and unstable secret. Every encounter leaves a trail of traces. Every lie demands only another. Every risk brings her closer to imminent disaster. At first, she believes she has control: managing the risk, erasing evidence, preserving the illusion of a perfect marriage. But Leo is not blind. He starts noticing changes in scent, misplaced objects, strange security logs. Those details form patterns he can no longer ignore. Damien is torn between loyalty and desire. Adrián feeds on danger. And Rosella discovers she is addicted not just to the men, but to the thrill of almost being caught. What once looked like freedom now feels like a trap. The estate that sheltered her has become a cage of surveillance and silence. Every corridor seems to watch her. And Leo, calm on the outside but increasingly watchful, corners her without yet knowing how far the truth has gone. A story of temptation, betrayal, and control, where the most dangerous thing is not what is hidden… but what is already being sensed.

I was an orphan being adopted by a simple family. My dad was a driver of a very powerful businessman. My mom was one of their maids. She was in fact their lady butler. This family with gazillion bank accounts had an only heir, drop dead gorgeous young billionaire, Albert Michaels. He was always the talk of the news both in mainstream and social media along with either a popular pop star diva or a hubristic socialite with voluptuous body and kittenish voice. I, Samantha Reynolds, one of their servants had been stealthily trailing him since the day that I stepped in their grand top of a kind living room. His stone cold aloof aura as he stared at me everytime he caught me gawking at him made him even more attractive and charming than he already was. Till one rainy night, a magical or should I say disaster happened. Arriving at home late and intoxicated while I was busy wiping the glass tea table, he was almost dropping himself on the cold marble floor. Guiding him towards his room, his heaviness was weighing up my petite body. Till we both dropped on his king sized bed with me under him. His glassy eyes tingling my long time desire. His warm rims made me want to wrap them with mine. Till time stood still as the rain continued pouring engulfing the atmosphere with its coldness while him covering me with his burning libido. As we both reached the top, he called a name, ''Madeline!'' D*mn!

⚠️*WARNING: 18+ Explicit Content “Come here,” he commanded, voice low and rough. Her legs moved before her mind could protest. In seconds his mouth was on her breast, hot and demanding, while two thick fingers thrust deep inside her, drawing out a slick, shameful rush of need. He pulled her onto his lap, ripped her panties aside, and drove into her with one savage stroke—stretching, claiming, ruining her in the dark. Jessy clung to his shoulders, gasping, moaning, breaking apart as pleasure tore through her like fire. He fucked her harder, deeper, whispering filthy praises against her skin until she shattered around him. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and filled her with pulse after pulse of hot cum. Still joined, his cock twitching inside her, he brushed damp strands of hair from her tear-streaked face and smirked. “Now tell me your name again… Jessy.” Footsteps clicked down the marble hallway. “Jessy? Sweetheart, I’m home.” Her aunt’s voice—warm, loving, and far too close. Terror and forbidden desire twisted in Jessy’s chest as she sat there naked, impaled on the man who was never a stranger. His cum was still leaking down her thighs when he flexed his hips, pushing deeper, and whispered hot against her ear, “Be very quiet, little girl. Wouldn’t want Mommy to discover how hard her precious girl just came on a stranger's cock.”

I’m on my knees again, wrists bound tight behind my back with silk that bites just enough to remind me who owns me tonight. He circles slow, leather boots echoing on the marble, and I can already taste the salt of anticipation on my tongue. When he finally grips my hair and yanks my head back, his cock—thick, veined, leaking—slaps heavy against my cheek. “Open,” he growls. I do, and he thrusts in deep, no warning, stretching my throat until my eyes water. The wet, choking sounds fill the room—gluck-gluck-gluck—as he fucks my mouth with brutal rhythm, hips snapping, balls slapping my chin. Every plunge forces a gag, spit dripping down my chest, but fuck, the burn in my jaw and the way he groans low makes me leak onto the floor. He pulls out just to slap my face with his slick length, then rams back in, deeper, claiming every inch until I’m nothing but his hole. ** This collection plunges headfirst into the raw, unfiltered world of explicit gay dominance and submission, where powerful alphas—billionaires, mob bosses, ruthless mentors—claim their willing (and sometimes reluctant) boys with iron control and unrelenting hunger. Every story drips with dark MM heat: contracts signed in sweat and cum, red rooms equipped for flogging, bondage, edging, and total power exchange. Expect graphic, immersive scenes of throat-fucking, ass-pounding, breeding fantasies, impact play that leaves marks, and aftercare laced with possession.

I was vacationing in St. Moritz, Switzerland with my mother when Vivian from the Valenti family office sent me a photo. The woman in it lay on the cold marble floor of the estate, her coat stripped away, her body covered in blood. No one stood near her, as if she had already been set aside like a problem to be dealt with. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing. A voice message followed, her tone sharp and controlled. “Elena, don’t assume that marrying the Don and being called Donna means your small-town family can step onto Valenti property.” “The lakeside estate Mr. Valenti just acquired is a family asset. Letting someone like your mother stay there breaks rules.” “I act on the Don’s behalf. It is my responsibility to remove people who should not be there.” “This is what happens when someone crosses a line.” I went still. Then I looked up at my mother sitting across from me. She held her tea, calm as ever. I lowered my eyes and enlarged the photo. The moment I saw the woman’s face, my chest tightened. It was not my mother. It was Luca’s. I called Vivian immediately. “Have you lost your mind? That’s Luca’s mother.” She gave a light laugh, her tone cool and distant. “Mr. Valenti has always been clear. Your mother is yours. His mother is his.” “The Valenti family does not take in outsiders.” “You may be Donna, but that does not mean your family steps inside with you.”