by Holly J Gill
The Curse behind the Mask
The Dirty Heroes Collection
Holly J Gill
Contents
The Dirty Heroes Collection
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Clockwork Stalker - Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
About the Author
Also by Holly J. Gill
Holly’s Reader Group
© 2020 by Holly J. Gill
Published by Holly J. Gill
Edited and Proofread by Illuminate Author Services
and Dark Raven Edits
Cover design by Simply Defined Art
Formatting by Raven Designs
The story contains explicit material and is themed for mature adults, with sexual situations that some may find offensive, including strong language.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The following story contains mature themes, strong language, sexual situations and mention of child abuse and neglect. It is intended for adult readers. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people living or deceased, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are only used for reference purposes. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Once upon a time, a scorned Queen opened a box, unleashing horrible evil on the world's heroes.
Instead of gallantry and chivalry, they now possessed much more perverse traits. They’ve fallen victim to their darkest and most deviant desires.
This is one of their stories...
Blurb
I'm no Prince Charming. I’m your worst nightmare.
Tonight, at the erotic masquerade ball, I get to choose a girl to play with. She'll endure my deepest, darkest, erotic pleasures.
I'll ruin her for any other man, push her limits.
I finally see her, a beautiful brunette, her body made for me. She must play my game, submit to my demands under the watchful eye of the evil queen, if she wants to survive.
I want to send a special thank you to my editor and proof reader, Illuminate Author Services, and Amanda.
I want to thank my children, Rhys, Victoria, and Alisha, and my amazing hubby Nigel for giving me so much support when writing.
My ARC Team, you’re simply the best. To my fans, readers and bloggers, thank you all for supporting me and assisting me when required. I’ve never asked for it, and you doing so means so much!
Thank you, everyone!
Hugs Holly xo
1
Elijah
I stood with my hands on the balcony overlooking the foyer, I stare down and stalk the women as they entered the house to attend tonight’s Erotic Masquerade Ball. The men were dressed in tuxedos and the ladies in glamorous dresses, all aware of the sick adventures they were about to enjoy. You had to be crazy to attend these parties, and I, for one loved to torment and defile a woman as much as anyone else. I’m a prince, after all, bad behaviour was a given. I was not made to adhere to the stuck up, clean cut arsehole persona that was expected. That was not me.
I consider myself a monster, a devil, a ruthless, powerful man who can do what I want, when and how I wish. I don’t care what happens at these parties, as long as they all get what they want, sexual gratification. I have the women bowing at my feet, even the unwilling become willing.
Sex, I love it — the more deviant, bloodthirsty, and shameful the better.
I wore an elegant black suit with a high collar to show my authority, a dark silk tie that would come in use later, and a custom-made gold warrior mask.
I watch as the guests were scanned for weapons then taken to the booths for headshots, for identification reasons, if required. Those were the rules, my rules, no room for negotiations.
I liked to watch the girls enter to see who took my attention and made my dick hard. I had to choose wisely. I have a reputation to uphold, and the woman I select must be able to keep up and be ready for pain and degradation, without a damn clue about who I was.
I used to do these parties without masks, and all the girls flocked to my feet and begged me to use and abuse them like I was God. I learned my lesson, and now…masks were to be worn until the guests were shown to their rooms for their pleasure.
Once security cleared them, they were each offered a glass of cava before they proceeded to the grand hall and to take part in any events they wish.
I observed the ladies and did a double-take when the most stunning woman walked through the large door. My breath hitched. She wore a fitted gold dress that sparkled, dazzling my eyes. Her body was stupendous, slender and divine, her long dark hair fell in loose waves. A mask covered half her face, leaving her mouth exposed and right then…I wanted to kiss her red lips.
She entered the booth, and I eagerly watched for her to emerge.
Soon the beauty exited the booth, and like a breath of fresh air, she moved to take a glass of the cava. She looked around the grand foyer to take in her surroundings. I watched as she trailed down the rounded staircase, and lifted her head, before tilting it back to look at the painted ceiling of hell, showing death, the grim reaper, and all the pain and despair that fiery pit held.
Her eyes magically found mine. She stilled, to gaze at me for a few seconds. My dick pressed firmly against my slack zipper, begging to come out and play.
Much to my annoyance, security moved her along. She glanced back at me briefly before she walked forward and disappeared from my sights.
I rushed down the staircase, I had to get to her before anyone else did. I bowed my head to greet the guests as I passed. I wasn’t going to speak; I didn’t need to.
Inside the booth, I whispered to the photographer… “The girl in a sparkling gold dress who was just in here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Information,” I ordered.
He moved to the computer and scrolled up the list, and there she was, her face was beautiful. Her brown eyes hypnotised me and sent pulses to my dick.
“Tell me she’s single?”
“She’s single.”
I grinned, delighted with the result. I smirked with thoughts of her and what pleasure I was going to have with her body. I stepped away from the booth and pressed my hands together, thinking of my desired plans for her. The first thing was to get closer, examine, devour and bring her to her knees. She was mine, and no one else was to touch her. I plan to make her scream her orgasm to the point she explodes.
I made my way to the grand hall, a spacious room with marble pillars on either side of the entrance. Tables and chairs were placed strategically, with the orchestra at one end, the walls and ceiling were painted with figures of Roman mythology, death, and betrayal. There were large chandeliers that hung above, shining o
n the marble floor. My chair was placed at the opposite side of the hall but I had no plans to sit there, none at all. I wanted to keep my guests guessing where the devil prince was.
I made my way around the hall in slow motion as the orchestra played, bellowing out their classic orchestrated music blissfully. Each piece was carefully selected for the evening.
I moved between guests, in an attempt to find her. All the women wore masks and glorious sexy dresses, some covered more flesh than others. I was on a hunt, where was this single woman who would be my feast for the evening, and she had no idea. The music forced me to feel its power racing through my soul as my heart pounded against my chest wall. I was eager to find her and claim her before another.
Shadily, I move through the guests, I smiled and nodded to be polite; but my eyes only searched for her. She appeared to have disappeared into thin air.
I moved to the centre of the room, my eyes sweeping the area so fast it seemed the room was spinning.
A new piece started to play, and within seconds the ballroom floor was littered with guests, they embrace and move to the flow of the orchestra.
I moved aside and once again went in pursuit of her. How the hell could she be that difficult to find?
I did my best to avoid getting in the way of the dancers. I heaved in a deep breath, and then I spotted a sparkling gold dress behind a pillar. I moved toward her in a heartbeat; only much to my surprise, it was a different woman. I smiled at the woman before moving on.
This was like a game of hide-and-seek, only I was the one hunting, and she was the one giggling somewhere in delight that I could not find her. This was not her game to play. I was the one who held all the damn commands not her. I clenched my fists and released them when I spotted her from the corner of my eye, standing across the ballroom. I stared at her, afraid to take my gaze off her in case I lost her again. She had no escape this time.
In an expeditious movement, I strode to her side of the hall and was about to make my swoop, when a waiter offered me a glass of cava. I took one and swiftly moved behind her. She must have sensed me. She turned slightly glancing over her shoulder.
I smiled down at her; I knew how beautiful she was under that mask. My dick throbbed; the music played in sync with the beat of my heart. I moved back slightly, and she studied me, not taking those breath-taking eyes off me.
I swallowed and saw the Queen, her blonde hair flowing, evil eyes painted in different shades of pink and blue, her mask was a skeletal jaw from her nose downwards, her silver dress covered tiny parts of her slim body. She was seated in her chair beside where I was meant to be, only she would be sitting alone. Her guards took their positions behind her, wearing leather kilts and armour down one arm, bare-chested.
My attention was thrown back to the girl, my mission, to take this brunette from every orifice. She was in for trouble, and if she wished to survive the night, she needed to get out now.
The music played; guests danced elegantly across the ballroom.
I looked at her, as she watched the dancers, floating around the floor in perfection.
They stopped when the music paused, only for the Waltz to erupt, my favourite ballroom dance. My mother taught me this dance when a child before she died in a terrible accident that caused her to drown in the lake. Each time I heard this symphony I thought of her.
There was no time to dwell on the past. A man was talking to her. I swooped in and interrupted.
“May I have this dance?” I reached out my hand and bowed.
I lowered my head before lifting to find her eyes on me.
“I don’t know how to,” she spoke sweetly, her voice stole another ounce of my sanity.
“I’ll guide you,” I offered, not believing this woman had no idea how to Waltz, but then, not everyone had been as lucky as me to be brought up with money and power. I waved my hand to her, encouraging her to take it.
She licked her lips and scanned the dancefloor before her eyes met mine. I offered her my hand once again. She had to take it in order for me to make her mine for the night. There was no way she would go to another. I wanted her on my St Andrews Cross, there were torture apparatuses just for this occasion.
Once in the middle of the ballroom floor, I placed my free hand on her lower back.
“Keep looking into my eyes,” I ordered.
I lifted her onto my feet, and she gasped and her eyes widened. I smiled and she returned it. We started moving about the floor. I didn’t falter once, continuing to move as I gazed into her eyes. I pictured the pretty woman I’d seen earlier on the computer screen. In a few elegant swoops, we moved around the floor in time to the music. My heart raced in my chest. I moved her to the ground, then spun her around, and brought her back into my chest. She fell into step, and we danced like the wind about the floor. I made certain she focused, and I held her tight around her tiny waist, guiding her to make sure I didn’t make a show of the fact that this was her first Waltz. I was completely transfixed by everything about her, her eyes, her scent, her hair. I would dump her in a split-second if I wasn’t.
I had no time to mess about. I expected my woman to be perfect at everything, like the women I had in the past, older, younger, whatever stole my fancy. I like a woman with power who loved the sadistic man I was. I was no damn prince charming, if anything, I was a man who thrived on pain.
I had her.
She was mine.
With each motion, her body called to me. I hoped she was ready to lose that dress and have the night of her life, one that would change her forever. I had plans. She was the plan. She was going to be my fulfillment.
The Queen watched me dance with the woman, and I knew what she was thinking. She was the one who held all the cards tonight. She was the one who set the challenges, fulfilling our darkest fantasies.
The air in the room filled with dry ice, the lights were dimmed, and the night was unfolding. I grew hornier by the minute, eager to get on with tonight’s thrill. I would steal every ounce of the woman’s purity and ruin her opinion of sex in the future. I would mark her, bleed her dry, make her weep in ways that corrupt her mind. She would be scarred, left weak and of no use to anyone.
I was sick, deranged, a menacing man with bizarre erotic desires. I had my easy little bitches, and once I was done with them, I threw them away like scrap, to the hounds. I had no remorse and no control. The Queen made me this, a sick fucker. She taught me all the games, introduced me to the world of BDSM and sadism. I could not count the times she’d put me under her hypnotic control and forced me into this dark world, and …I was now addicted. It was her fault.
The Queen preyed on me like a hawk. I hated the woman, and she had this hold over me, a deep hold I could not get out of. She held my inheritance, this house the fortune my parents left to me. I had to be a good boy. I had to do what she told me without questions. She had me by the balls and squeezed them hard until I kneeled.
The Queen waited for me to give the nod, to tell her this girl was the one and once that happened, she would swoop the girl away to be prepared for me.
I kept my hold on the woman, gazing at her from time to time. She was so radiant, and her lips so supple and delicate. I wished to remove her mask and admire the pretty girl I saw on the photo, only not in here. I wondered how I could possibly get closer or leave the hall without the stalking eyes of the Queen. Her guards watched me; I had no goddamn chance of even taking a piss without her knowing about it.
The music ended, and she glanced around the floor to see what the other ladies were doing and like them, she positioned herself to take a curtsy as I took a bow and stood in front of her, our eyes locked. I tried not to look at the Queen aware her evil eyes were filled with darkness, and I felt it too.
My heart thumped hard against my chest, and the saying treat her mean, make her keen came to mind.
“Thank you for the dance.” It took everything in me to walk away from the mystery woman, but I knew that if this night were to go to plan, I n
eeded to move away from her.
I walked around the room and greeted regular guests of ours, a vile man who ended up killing some of his girls and another who attended every ball had a thrill to make her behave like a horse. Strange, but then, I was not one to judge.
I had to fight the desire to turn to her and see what she was doing. The woman had a hold on me. My dick throbbed and I didn’t even have her stripped naked and shackled.
I was in for a serious treat tonight.
2
Megan
My heart pounded crazily inside my chest, not believing this man took me to the ballroom floor and moved me around like a piece of silk cloth. If the fact that I could not dance very well bothered him, he hid it well. But maybe that was why he left me standing on the dancefloor and moved to greet someone else. I tried to convince myself that it didn’t bother me, but it did, a lot.
I watched as he wrapped his arm around a woman, and kissed her on either cheek. I wondered why on earth I was here, it was Daddy who told me to come to the ball, in fact, he was rather persuasive.
“Megan, you need to go to the ball,” he added as I sat on the couch. I didn’t wish to listen to him, again. All he did was talk about this ball and how I would benefit from it. I stood to leave the room.
“Don’t walk out Megan. You need to get out of this house and stop dwelling in that bedroom of yours!”
I turned to Daddy. “I like my own company.”
