The Masquerade

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Hazards of His Pleasure

I didn’t want to obey him. I wanted to spit in his face. But he has the power to ruin me now.

It occurred to me that if he wandered out the door and shouted as I’d considered doing, he was right. I’d be perilously destroyed for any man but those so unsavory they’d offer a broken lady a bit of coin for a good toss in the sheets.

I don’t want to be that.

I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. I shifted nervously.

He caught my hands and slapped them over the laces on his breeches.

I immediately registered that there was that firm bit of flesh prodding the inside of one of my palms again.

His hardness.

I squeaked.

“Yes.” He crooned. Trailing fingertips on both sides from my collarbone down over my shoulders and over my upper arms to the back of my hands. Almost as if he were going to take my hands in his.

But he didn’t.

“I’ll soon be hearing more of that.” Growing impatient he plucked the laces himself and hooked my thumbs beneath his waistband.

I was startled at the stunning heat of his skin. Feeling the sharpness of his hip bones.

He snatched my wrists so abruptly that I jumped. Wincing in terror.

His gaze roved my face assessingly and then he pushed my wrists down. Forcing my hands to remove his breeches over a length of muscled, furred thighs.

Making me lean over to follow them. And sending his member nearly springing over the top of them to brush my lips.

“Ahh.” He rumbled. Flexing his buttocks and pressing his staff tighter against my large, rouged lips.

What had I been thinking?

I should’ve done without the makeup. Without the sordid thoughts of escaping an unwanted engagement. Had I just been a dutiful daughter I wouldn’t be here now with a strange man pressing his rod against my lips. Massaging it along my mouth and brushing aside my nose.

“I could take your mouth.” One of his hands left my wrist to scoop the back of my head. Pushing it against him.

Startled, I angled my head away which made my chin press him against his pelvis.

He groaned in pleasure at the sensation. “I could fuck your face. Well and truly teach you the ways of the wanton.”

“I’m no wanton!”

“Aren’t you?” He lifted his fingers and rubbed them together to show me the bit of moisture still lingering on them from when he’d had them inside me.

And my pleasure had soaked them.

I winced. Blushing furiously and refusing to look at him or the large cock he had in my face.

One brow was lifted over those nearly black eyes, as he watched me. Turning my head slightly to make my mouth and chin rub along his length.

“I could throw you to the floor and take you here. Pound your mouth until I spill into your throat.”

“No!” I shoved his pants to the floor and retreated several steps. Desperately needing distance between he and I before he did just that.

“You’re right.” He smirked. “That’s not at all where I want to be when I attain my pleasure. I want to be in the nest of your body and feel all that bountiful flesh when I possess you.”

“Possess me?” My voice rose.

“Well and truly.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Destroy you wholly for your precious fiancé.”

“He’s not precious!” I spat. So furious I felt the need to attack someone, and the unknown man currently seemed the safest bet.

“Isn’t he?”

“Some old Sot with plenty of money, that my father favors.”

“Is he now?” Rogue grinned. Dark eyes dancing behind his white and black mask.

It dawned on me now that we both still wore our masks. Though he’d wasted no time in stripping me bare and then forcing me to undress him, he’d not bothered to remove my mask.

Unwilling to, or not curious enough to know what my face looked like.

It’s not my face that matters. I registered.

He caught my arms and yanked me forward until my breasts were pinned against his chest. He kissed me again. His tongue lathing into my mouth, tasting every crevice. He tossed my arms aside and reached behind me to cup my buttocks and yank my pelvis against him. Pinioning his staff between he and I.

Which seemed to make him even harder.

He lifted my arms by my head and turned me quickly to pull me against him. Matching my length along the front of him.

Lifting his foot made mine, lift. His step guiding mine. He took me over to the chair where he’d been sitting when I’d arrived. Turning me before him, so I faced the fire over the low chairback.

“What are you doing?” I asked anxiously. Unable to see him behind me but feeling that he’d paused. His hands framing my waist and his gaze lingering on my shoulder blades as he considered the ways he wanted to take me.

“Whatever I want to.” He purred into the crook of my throat and shoulder. His hands rising over my belly to take the weight of my breasts. Lifting and massaging them rhythmically, while he pressed against my buttocks.

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