Off Script: a Dark Masked Men Romance

Nirvana
I used to write darkness. Now I live it.
My fantasies were only words — until I cast masked strangers to act them out. But one of them wasn’t acting. He didn’t follow my script.
He rewrote it.
Now the man I hired is the one tying me down, dragging pleasure from pain, and whispering promises that sound like threats.
And I can’t stop begging for more.

Blake
She wanted masked men to play monsters.
I didn’t need the mask.
I learned everything about her — her habits, her secrets, her scent, the way her breath caught when she came.
She thinks she created me for her story.
But I was always real.
She just gave me permission to make her mine.
And I don’t share. Not on camera. Not in fantasy. Not ever.
She was never directing this.
She was mine from the first word.
Off Script — where desire devours the page.