Masquerade in Africa
- Reads 8
- Votes 0
- Parts 4
"Your eyes... they're mesmerizing," Amaka whispered, her voice barely audible beneath the sultry thrum of music and the thud of her racing pulse. Her gaze locked onto his, hypnotized by the glossy depths-that shimmered behind a sleek black mask. His face was art-chiseled, flawless, almost inhuman in its beauty. And his body...a promise of sin that made her breath hitch.
"Your lips... so red, so full," he murmured. She trembled as desire slithered through her. He leaned in, his fingers gliding up her neck to her jaw, then vanishing into the lush halo of her thick, coiled afro. He stroked in slow, maddening circles, each touch sending jolts of need through her veins.
Their masks nearly brushed-hers gold and feathered, his dark and sharp like shadow incarnate. His mouth hovered above hers, maddeningly close, his breath caressing her skin. He didn't kiss her. He teased her-his lips barely grazing hers, retreating with devilish intent. His body pressed into hers, all taut muscle and hard desire. She felt him-his want, his control. She ached for more.
But she couldn't forget: none of this was real.
The masked crowd swirled around them in a blur of color and laughter. "My inheritance," she thought, heart pounding. The one stolen from her. The legacy ripped away.
"It's time," he murmured at last, a devious smile curling on his lips.
And just like that, the game truly began.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
The Cricket Tyrant
✎ᝰ.𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 ⋆𖦹⋆ˎˊ˗ He was born for cricket. In the stadiums of his city, he was already a legend. Every swing of his bat - a warning. Every smirk - a challenge. 𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐧, the state's rising cricket star. Arrogant. Untouchable. Addicted to winning. And ? 𝐒𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 A fiery first-year media student with a pen sharp enough to cut egos - and the courage to question names that made others bow. She didn't chase stories. She exposed them. He was her assignment. She became his obsession. He hated her defiance. She hated his arrogance. They both refused to back down. Same college. Same battleground. Every encounter - 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓. Every glance - 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆. He doesn't lose. She doesn't bow And before the world knew his name, He made sure she never forgot it. She thought she was writing his story. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭. The stubborn, firecracker reporter who called him - "𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁 𝗧𝘆𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁" and made the world see his cracks. Rules were broken. Lines were crossed. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 ────୨ৎ────
His Return (if not you...)
Her hand's still. I'm gripping it like it's the last lifeline in a storm. In my head, I'm yelling: You got this. Come back. Do it. But hey.. tears, will you stop making an entrance now? I need focus. Stop. I repeat it like a mantra. You can do it. You can do it. Again. And again. I don't know if I'm trying to convince her... or myself. ~~~ When they uncover the truth about the culprit, will they be able to handle it? Or will it tear everything apart? Their relationship is still new. Will it fall apart under pressure, or will they choose to fight for it? Step into Part Two of this gripping journey.. where light meets shadow, and love is tested by truth. ~~~ Hey lovely readers.. this is a continuation of the story 'His Return (what if...)'. I would recommend reading the first part to better understand what's happening in this one. Happy Reading. Thanks for supporting my words.
Even good men breaks.
He was a stranger. Until he wasn't. She never saw him coming. But he always saw her. Amaya's world was quiet chaos - long days buried in sketches and designs, late nights behind the counter of a dimly lit café. She didn't have time for love. Or attention. Or the unsettling eyes that watched her from across the street. He never said much at first. Just a glance. A word. A small, calculated presence that slowly carved itself into her routine. It felt... harmless. Maybe even sweet. But darkness never comes all at once. It seeps in. Quiet. Patient. And by the time you notice, it's already wrapped around your throat. She was never just another girl to him. And he was never just a boy with good intentions. This is not a love story. This is what happens when obsession wears the mask of romance. And a plot twist, you'd never see it coming.
𝗛𝗮𝗹𝗮𝘁: 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲
𝐙𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫 × 𝐃𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐯𝐢 | 𝟑𝟏 × 𝟐3 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: #𝟏 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 She saw him more than once. And every time, her heart betrayed her; racing, stumbling, fluttering like a caged butterfly chasing a memory. Her breath shortened, her chest tightened, and still, she said nothing. Because it wasn't her place. Because she was never meant to be seen. Until she was. Until the day she stood before him, not as a stranger in the crowd, but as his bride. The wrong bride. He had seen her before. Once in passing, her eyes barely a flicker in his peripheral vision, dismissed for a prettier pair. The second time, he saw her through a vow sealed in blood and duty. And rage erupted. Exacting. Demanding. She wasn't supposed to wear that dress. She wasn't supposed to carry his name. But now that she does... There's no turning back.Complete
My Husband's Girl
Love is Sacrifice. ❝ I don't love you and I never will, because I love someone else ❞ Ian said to Alison, his brows touched together as he looked at his wife. ❝ Who is she?❞ Alison asked as calmly as she could trying her best to keep her demeanor straight, trying very hard not to break down in front the man she has loved her entire life. ❝ Ashley, your sister❞ Ian said, almost inaudibly. His heart racing, eyes swimming with guilt. He looked at the woman he married again when she didn't reply for a long while only to find her staring at him with a blank expression. Her eyes so hollow that it made a pang of ache go through his heart. ❝ I'll help you win her over ❞Alison replied after a long while of silence, her complete life was turned upside down in a matter of second. Who would've thought that she would be having this conversation with the man she love, the man she was married to. 'I'll help him do so till he have her in his arms. I will do it even if it means I have to sacrifice my love for him.' She thought to herself. *** Join the journey of Ian and Alison, filled with mystery and love. This is my first official book on wattpad so please excuse my typos. *** (1st Draft) Published: October 26th, 2016 Complete : December 31st, 2017 *** Copyright © Aastha Mishra 2016Complete
Dear Reader ( BK 1 OF DEAR READER SERIES)
Dear Reader, She never signed her name. She never asked for pity. She only asked one thing- that you read. Inside these pages is a voice you won't forget. A girl unraveling quietly, honestly, beautifully-one entry at a time. Somewhere between heartbreak and hope, between silence and screaming, she left behind a story for someone to find. You just did. This is not a love story. It's not a fairytale. It's not a cry for attention. It's a mirror for anyone who's ever felt invisible. It's a pulse for the ones still searching for theirs. And maybe-just maybe- it's the one voice that finally says what you've never been able to. Read carefully. She's been waiting for you.Complete
His Luna
(COMPLETED) (Highest rank #7) We stared at each other. My palms starts to sweat. My heart was beating fast. Im trembling in a good way. For Pete's sake! What's happening to me right now?! This instant?! 'Why am I feeling nervous?' He smirk, He steps closer... Inches away from my face. I gasped when he lean into me just the side of my face, I smell his intoxicating scent and feel his breath on my cheeks, He whispered... "You're mine.." *** "This unbelievable story starts when I trespass their boundaries. Who knew about their boundaries?" -Preesaun If you ever find it interesting then read it and comment, I don't really care if it's rude or not. (Also, photo from pinterest.) Ps: Excuse the grammars and the punctuations. (Really tired of editing, but I'll try.)Complete
Bound By A Desk
The air between them was thick, suffocating, as if the room itself held its breath. Words hung in the silence, sharp and unspoken, before finally breaking free in jagged shards. "Why does it always have to be like this with you?" they snapped, their voice trembling somewhere between anger and despair. Their response was immediate, defensive. "Me? You're the one who never listens!" The words were loud, but their eyes betrayed the crack beneath the surface-a flicker of hurt they tried to bury under frustration. Each word exchanged was a step deeper into a place neither wanted to go, but neither knew how to stop. The room felt colder, smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in, pressing the weight of their unsaid truths closer to the surface. "Maybe if you actually cared-" "Don't you dare," came the cutting interruption, voice low and dangerous. But the anger was laced with something raw, something unsteady, like a rope fraying at the edges. For a moment, they locked eyes, and the silence was deafening. It was a battlefield of emotions neither could fully articulate-anger, hurt, longing, and the fear of losing something they couldn't quite name. Then came the breaking point-a word too sharp, a truth too bitter to swallow. One turned away, shoulders trembling, while the other stood frozen, fists clenched at their sides. It wasn't the shouting that lingered in the room after, but the heavy quiet-the weight of what wasn't said, and the fragile, aching distance between them.
✎ᝰ.𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 ⋆𖦹⋆ˎˊ˗ He was born for cricket. In the stadiums of his city, he was already a legend. Every swing of his bat - a warning. Every smirk - a challenge. 𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐧, the state's rising cricket star. Arrogant. Untouchable. Addicted to winning. And ? 𝐒𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 A fiery first-year media student with a pen sharp enough to cut egos - and the courage to question names that made others bow. She didn't chase stories. She exposed them. He was her assignment. She became his obsession. He hated her defiance. She hated his arrogance. They both refused to back down. Same college. Same battleground. Every encounter - 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓. Every glance - 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆. He doesn't lose. She doesn't bow And before the world knew his name, He made sure she never forgot it. She thought she was writing his story. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭. The stubborn, firecracker reporter who called him - "𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁 𝗧𝘆𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁" and made the world see his cracks. Rules were broken. Lines were crossed. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 ────୨ৎ────
More detailsContent Guidelines