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Tina From The Mask

SLAVE TO THE MASKED BEAST

Lorenzo De Luca "The Beast" thought she was only a new prey, but he realized too late that he was the one who was trapped. Signing a contract with the beast was supposed to be the worst thing that happened to Summer, and she wouldn't have done that if she had any other options, but the more she tried to struggle out of the deal, the deeper the beast found himself falling for her. ... I nodded, feeling grateful, and bolted toward the door. Without knocking, I burst inside. "You jerk!" I yelled. “Don’t you know how to knock? and I warned you not to call me that.” His voice was low, irritated. "Your terms are absurds, I have my own terms also." I said as I closed the door. The minutes I turned to him, I screamed. Lorenzo was standing by the window, wearing nothing but a towel, water dripping from his freshly showered body. His broad shoulders glistened in the light, and his defined abs led down to... "A slave speaking of term, Hmm. Tell me about it." He said. "Damn, he is fucking hot!" I said, not realizing I said it out. "Excuse me?" He raised his brow. "huh." I said. "You were talking about terms." He asked, moving closer to me. I couldn’t remove my eyes away. His body was perfection, every inch of him sculpted like a living statue. The towel hung dangerously low on his hips, and for a moment, I forgot why I had come in. My heart pounded faster with every step he took, my legs were shaking. "Don't come near!" I yelled at him, covering my face with my hand. "What's the problem?" He asked. I froze, my eyes wide, my cheeks flushed. “Put some clothes on!” I shrieked. “This is my room,” he said, turning toward me with a slow smirk. “I see no reason to.” "Well.. I'm here and I'm not comfortable with you like this." “You’re staring,” he teased. “No, I’m not!” I shot back, flustered. “You want me,” he said casually, stepping closer. “What? No!” I stumbled backward, heart pounding. “You want to feel me inside you.” “God forbid! Hell no!” I shouted, but my voice wavered, betraying me. "Hell yes" He said with a smile. I swear, despite his face is partially covered with mask, I could see the beauty of his face. His smile is so beautiful... it's choking. He closed the distance between us, his eyes locked on mine. “Your body says otherwise,” he whispered, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. The heat of his skin sent a shiver down my spine. Then he whispered into my ears "I can show you what I'm made of, if you want." His voice was slow, deep and arousing. My legs were trembling, I could hear my heartbeat. “Stay away from me!” I pushed him back, panic setting in. But he only laughed, a deep, rich sound that sent my pulse racing. “You don't know what you are missing.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously seductive. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “Just say the word.” I snapped. “Get lost!” I pushed him and bolted out of the room, my heart pounding in my ears. I could hear him laughing behind me, enjoying the moment. His laughter was cut short by the sound of water splashing.
Black_Butterfly18 · 1.3K Views

A Woman Without a Mask

At 28, Clara Hayes has mastered the art of wearing masks. To her colleagues, she’s the perpetually cheerful graphic designer who never misses a deadline. To her overbearing mother, she’s the dutiful daughter hiding her anxiety behind polished smiles. To the world, she’s a woman who “has it all together”—except she’s crumbling inside. Clara’s life unravels during a corporate presentation where a panic attack strips her façade raw. Humiliated and exhausted, she flees to a quiet coastal town, renting a cottage owned by an eccentric, free-spirited potter named Marisol. There, Clara stumbles upon a dusty journal in the attic, its pages filled with haunting sketches and anonymous confessions from a woman who once lived there decades earlier. The entries mirror Clara’s own suffocating duality: “I paint myself in colors the world approves of, but my soul is a grayscale.” As Clara tentatively befriends Marisol and a reclusive widower, Eli, who runs the town’s crumbling bookstore, she begins confronting the lies she’s told herself for years. Through their unconventional guidance—and the journal’s cryptic wisdom—she starts shedding her masks one by one. But vulnerability comes at a cost: her corporate career teeters, her mother’s disapproval intensifies, and a buried trauma from her teenage years resurfaces, threatening to drown her newfound courage. When Clara’s raw, unfiltered artwork—created in secret—goes viral, she faces a choice: return to the safety of her old illusions or step into the terrifying freedom of living unapologetically. But the journal hides a final secret, linking Clara’s journey to the cottage’s mysterious past, forcing her to question whether true authenticity is a rebellion… or a homecoming.
Daoist5CDTxH · 863 Views
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