Sexy Behind The Mask
8.8 / 10.0
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She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."
Sexy Behind The Mask Chapter 1
Thursday, October 5th
Grayson knew he should have been in Boston by now, and yet, there he was, standing in front of his Upper West Side brownstone, a victim of the changeable New York weather. Hail had pummeled the tarmac, which in turn had dismissed all hope of air travel, and sent him home for the night. He had rebooked a flight early tomorrow morning with enough time he needed to arrive for the meeting in Boston... Just
In turn, it gave him an opportunity to surprise Morgan.
Glancing down the street at the brownstones, this was a great place to raise kids, and when he had slipped the engagement ring on Morgan's finger six months ago, she had agreed to move in and have their family here someday.
Using his key, he let himself in, soft jazz drifted through the hallway to greet him. Grayson dropped his briefcase by the door, loosened his tie. He considered calling out, announcing his arrival, but paused when he heard laughter coming from the master bedroom. Two women. Morgan and... someone else. Disappointed that they wouldn't have the evening to themselves, but he really couldn't complain. He hadn't planned to be here. If Morgan had invited a friend over to keep her company that was fine by him.
Grayson smiled. More laughter echoed down the hall, followed by whispers he couldn't quite make out. He hung his coat on the rack, figuring he'd grab a drink before interrupting their girl talk. Heading into the lounge to grab a whiskey before seeing what Morgan was up to. Knowing his luck, they were going through Morgan's wardrobe and there would be a mountain of clothing laying over their bed.
The laughter grew louder as he approached the bedroom. Giggles. Hushed words. A sound that might have been a moan. He stopped, hand hovering over the doorknob.
A voice that wasn't Morgan's said, "Baby just like that."
Morgan responded with a sound Grayson recognized all too well. Pleasure.
His stomach dropped. The hairs on his arms stood up. A cold feeling spread through his chest. He knew before touching the door what he was about to walk in on.
But he pushed open the door anyway. He couldn't hide from the knowledge. He needed to face it and them head on. Just like he handled business.
But he wasn't quite ready for the sight that greeted him.
Morgan lay sprawled across their king-size bed, naked, her blonde hair fanned out across his pillow. On top of her was a brunette woman, equally naked, the fingers of one hand tangled in Morgan's hair, he couldn't see where her other hand was, but he could guess.
Time stopped. The world tilted on its axis as Grayson stood frozen in the doorway, unable to process what he was seeing. He'd known-sure-even prepared himself for it-but seeing it was something else.
Then Morgan looked up as if sensing him, her eyes widening with shock.
"Grayson!" She scrambled out from under the other woman, grabbing for the sheet. "You're supposed to be in Boston!"
The brunette sat up, making no effort to cover herself, a smirk playing at her lips.
Grayson recognized her. Tina. His sister Emma's friend. The one he'd meet at his sister's engagement party.
"Flight got canceled." His voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else. "Hail."
Morgan pulled the sheet up to her chin. "Baby, I can explain."
Tina laughed, a short, sharp sound. "Can you really?"
Grayson stepped into the room. The jazz still played from the stereo system in the corner of the room, which explained why they hadn't heard him come in. He hadn't tried to be quiet, because he hadn't realized what she had been hiding from him. That thought made him ask his next question.
"How long?" His voice was steady. Calmer than he felt.
Morgan looked at Tina, then back at him. "It's not what you think."
"How. Long." Each word clipped, precise.
"It's nothing serious, just-"
"Answer the question, Morgan." His hands balled into fists at his sides.
She looked down at the rumpled sheets. "Soon after Emma's engagement party."
Eight months. Eight months of lies. The engagement party. The day Morgan had met Tina as well. They must have started up within days of meeting each other. Then two months later he had proposed to her, and she had said yes while fucking a woman on the side.
"Eight months," he repeated the words, testing their weight. "Let's get this straight you've been fucking my sister's friend for eight months."
"Don't be crude." Morgan reached for a silk robe hanging off the bedpost. "It's just physical. It doesn't mean anything."
Tina stretched, catlike and unconcerned. "Don't sell yourself short, Morgan. It means something to me." Clearly unconcerned about being caught out. He had never liked Tina. But he could not tell his younger sister who her friends should be. Emma was twenty-seven after all.
Grayson ran a hand through his hair. Eight months. Their entire engagement. A lie. Not just their engagement but their whole relationship.
"You brought her into our bed." Not just that but their lives.
Morgan slipped into the robe, tying it at the waist. "You're making too big a deal out of this. It's just sex."
"In our bed." He felt like throwing up. He would burn the bed before he slept in this room again.
"Why not?" Tina asked, finally reaching for her clothes scattered across the floor. "Morgan said you'd be gone until tomorrow."
Grayson didn't look her way. She did not seem to care that she was standing in front of him naked. The woman had shown no shame.
The casualness of their betrayal struck him like a physical blow. They'd planned this. Waited for him to leave. How many other times had this happened? Had they laughed that he was a fool.
"Get out." He directed the words at Tina.
She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"Get the fuck out of my house."
Morgan approached him with her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Really, Grayson, I just don't understand why you are so upset. Let's talk about this like adults."
"Like adults?" He laughed, the sound hollow. "You've been cheating on me for eight months, and you want to talk like adults?"
"It's not cheating." Morgan placed a hand on his chest. "Not really. Tina is a woman not a man."
Grayson's stepped away from her hand as his eyes widened, he realized she didn't understand cheating was cheating; it didn't matter the sex of the other person. Was she truly that stupid, or did she have the morals of an alley cat? This was not someone he wanted raising his kids let alone in his life.
If he thought he was in shock before, her next words made everything even worse.
"We could invite you to join us sometime. You might like it. Isn't it every man's dream to have two women at once."
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Sexy Behind The Mask of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
9.3
Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance)
Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter...
Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline.
Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King.
Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life.
But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart.
Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥
9.6
In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times.
Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet.
I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars.
That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me.
After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
"Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you."
Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again.
In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch.
But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby.
Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice.
"Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child."
Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago.
When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time."
At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago.
I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."
7.9
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head split open from a horrific car crash.
But the pain in my skull was nothing compared to the memory burned into my retinas just before the impact: my billionaire husband, Dawson, walking into a luxury hotel with a woman who looked exactly like his dead first love.
When Dawson finally arrived at the ward, there was no panic or relief in his eyes. He just coldly looked at my bloody bandages.
"Your reckless driving just forced me to postpone the quarterly board meeting."
Even our seven-year-old son, who I almost died giving birth to, didn't spare me a single glance. He kicked my hospital bed in annoyance.
"The Wi-Fi here is garbage. You're a bad mom! Dad said Aunt Angelita should be the one living with us!"
My blood turned to ice. For five years, I had bent over backward, wearing the hideous pale dresses he picked, starving myself to maintain a fragile figure, all to be a perfect, obedient substitute for a ghost.
And this was what I got. An unfaithful husband who would rather bury me in debt than grant me a divorce, and a son who wished I was dead.
The weak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt.
When the doctor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name, I looked at my husband with a hollow, defensive stare.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
Using retrograde amnesia as my shield, I was going to tear their perfect world apart.
9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.
7.6
Isolde Mitchell knew her wealthy husband was cheating on her, but the true nightmare began when her mother-in-law summoned her.
The older woman coldly announced that the mistress was pregnant with a boy and would be moving into their estate.
Because Isolde's family had gone bankrupt and she had only given birth to a frail daughter, she was deemed completely worthless.
When Isolde packed her bags and demanded a divorce, her husband Clark just laughed.
He threatened to use their ironclad prenup to leave her penniless and take full custody of her daughter just to torture her.
To make matters worse, he forced Isolde to secure a failing business deal with the ruthless billionaire Jacques Valdez, essentially ordering her to sell her body to get the signature.
"If you fail, you will never see Bria again."
He even sent his goons to snatch the little girl from her preschool to prove his point.
Isolde was completely cornered, trembling with a mix of rage and absolute despair.
How could the man she married be such a monster? She would rather die than let them destroy her daughter, but how could a bankrupt mother fight a powerful dynasty with absolutely nothing?
Out of options, she looked at the private business card the terrifying billionaire Jacques had unexpectedly given her daughter.
Swallowing her pride, she decided to make a deal with the devil himself, ready to use his power to tear her husband's family apart.
![[Dubbed Version] The Blessing That Backfired](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/18dbed035145403706118985029/685jZV7w2fkA.webp!15491.webp!15491.webp)
