17. The Serpent Mask
THE SERPENT MASK
Fable
The ballroom is just as crowded as last night.
The menu and drinks have changed, as well as the guests’ outfits.
Some of the masks are different, but many are the same.
The red velvet jackets of the Lords stand out against the sea of white and black.
Fresh flowers spill from the large stone pedestal vases at the four corners of the dance floor.
The ivy above the bar now has white wisteria dangling from it like a dream.
Fog blankets half of the massive room, and a hypnotic rhythm has couples dancing sensually together.
The vibe is steamier tonight and less like a club.
The way certain guests make out as they dance has me turned on and longing for the Lord with the wolf mask to summon me to my room.
I’m not sure how this works. Noah slept with the Lord in a guest room.
Apparently, they don’t take anyone to their private suites.
It’d be too easy to figure out who they are.
I have three flutes left on my tray and enter the Crimson Chamber.
The room is a bit claustrophobic for me with all the red and velvet as if you’re trapped in a massive drop of blood.
Two Lords are in the room, lounging on the plush circular seating with three women.
The wolf-masked Lord sits to the right, with two women on either side. Nefertiti is one of them.
“Champagne?” I offer them the tray first.
They each refuse, then stand and leave as if my presence is offensive. The action is so abrupt, I find it hard to believe that Nefertiti is Camila. Maybe someone borrowed her mask.
The Lord in the serpent mask whispers into the ear of the woman beside him in a gold goddess mask. She looks at me, then leaves, although it’s obvious she doesn’t want to.
What the hell is up? I don’t smell bad. I haven’t been in the kitchen to attract the scent of food, and my perfume, though subtly sprayed, is a sweet mix of vanilla and jasmine.
“Any for you, sir?” I lower the tray near the serpent Lord, wondering if he’ll leave too.
He takes the tray from my hand and sets it on the marble coffee table. Assuming he wants the tray to himself, I nod and turn to leave, but he catches my wrist.
I glance over my shoulder, stunned for a moment. “Excuse me, sir,” I say as politely as possible and point out, in case he missed it, “I’m not wearing a red feather.”
“Good angel,” he says with a Scottish accent. He used his nickname for me, too, clueing me in that this is my Lord.
Five hours have passed since the party started. I’d been keeping an eye on the wolf Lord as he chatted and flirted with other women, assuming he wasn’t interested in me tonight or anymore. The serpent always leaves with Nefertiti, but she left, dismissively so. This isn’t good.
“You’re wearing the serpent mask. Did you switch?” Please say yes so I don’t get fired. Nothing good can come from Camila’s Lord suddenly taking an interest in me.
“Come here.” He slowly pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him.
My cheeks blaze. We’re doing this here? I glance at the doorway.
“No one will bother us,” he murmurs and kisses my neck. His warm lips feel good, but not enough to distract me from my nerves.
I lean back a little. “Sorry, this just feels exposed. What if someone walks in?”
“They won’t.” He kisses the other side of my neck, his mask brushing my ear.
Instinctively, I plant my hand on his chest. “How do you know?”
“I ordered for us to be alone,” he whispers down to the hollow of my neck and plants a kiss there.
“Oh Lord,” I sigh as tingles race all over my heated body.
He chuckles against my chest, his breath hot. “You smell like a forbidden garden.”
“I like forbidden gardens,” I murmur and let my head fall back. “Especially when they’re abandoned.”
He stiffens but relaxes quickly and presses his hand between my shoulder blades, drawing me up. He kisses the corner of my mouth.
A shuddering breath leaves me at the memory of his kisses.
“You taste forbidden too.” One hand slides to my wig. “I want this off.”
“It’s cemented on,” I tease, but it could be with all the bobby pins.
A smirk tilts his sexy mouth. The dim lighting casts a red glow over the skin visible under his mask.
His fingers tighten on my neck, and his body hardens a little. “What are you staring at?”
“Your incredible lips. You’re an amazing kisser.”
“You’re right. This isn’t working for either of us.” He grips my waist and sets me on my feet.
I stand there dazed by his abrupt change of mood and watch as he rises to his full height, putting over a foot between us. I have no idea what just happened, so I grab the tray, ready to bolt.
“Leave it.” He takes my hand in his huge one and guides me out of the Crimson Chamber and into the ballroom. Lights flicker from the DJ stand, and sparkles shower the room like diamonds.
I want to ask where we are going, but I’m behind him, and he’s so tall he wouldn’t hear me unless my mouth was near his ear. I stumble trying to keep up with his long strides and tighten my grip on his hand to keep from falling. He stops, and his serpent mask turns to me, his eyes shielded by mesh.
“Come here.” I have to read his lips to know what he’s saying. I walk to him. He steps behind me and plants his hands on my waist before whispering in my ear, “Walk to the exit.”
I do, in front of him now, guiding the way as he keeps his big body tucked close behind me, matching my short steps. It must be annoying for him.
The crowd parts for us as if they know to move out of the way. Nefertiti turns and sees us. Her mouth curves with a frown of disappointment, but she’s quick to look away.
She’s with the Lord in the wolf mask still and one wearing a bear mask.
I hope she’s not mad that I’m with a Lord.
She didn’t seem to mind if staff hooked up with anyone during my orientation.
Is it because of the serpent mask? Is this the Lord she’s often with?
Why was he wearing a wolf last night then?
The games and disguises are frustrating in a way I didn’t expect.
Finally, we make it out of the room. Instead of moving away from me, the Lord hooks his arm under my knees and scoops me up like I’m his bride.
A squeal slips out, and I hook my arm around his neck, higher than I’ve ever been. This man is a giant compared to me.
“You’re very tall.” My gaze locks onto his mask, straining to see his eyes in the brighter hallway, but they remain hidden.
“Everyone is tall compared to you.” He jerks right into a dark alcove and pushes the wall. It opens—a hidden door—and we walk into a barely lit stone corridor. “You think I’m a good kisser?” he asks in his Scottish accent.
“Phenomenal. I haven’t kissed many guys though. But after kissing you, I don’t know if anyone else would be worth it.”
My back hits the stone wall, and my hands are pinned above my head. The Lord has my legs wrapped around his waist, his body supporting mine, his cock pressed against my clit in the best way. I don’t know how he arranged us like this in an instant.
“I don’t want to hear about you kissing other men.” He rips my mask off and grinds his hard length against me.
It feels so amazing, I let out a small moan.
“Such a responsive little vixen. I bet I could make you come like this.” He rolls his hips, sending his cock up and down, rubbing my increasingly wet core, and hitting my clit with each thrust. I don’t know if it’s his mask, the promise of what I know will be incredible, or the sheer chemistry between us that makes me so hot, but I’ve never known desire like this.
I want this man inside me. I want sex, and I want another orgasm. My second.
“Please do.” I close my eyes and bite my bottom lip, focused on the sensations in my lower half and the greedy need consuming me.
He rubs against me and kisses my neck, his hand caressing my ass.
“I want more, so much more.”
“What more do you want?” he asks, and I exhale a shocked breath, unaware I’d said that out loud.
If this were a date or in a well-lit room, I might not be as free as I am with this masked Lord, but the darkness, secrecy, and disguises give me a confidence that allows me to be open.
My head rests against the wall, my lips parted with my racing breath. “I want your mouth on mine, and my body, my breasts. I want to feel you everywhere.”
“So bloody sweet.” He covers my mouth with his and rolls his tongue with mine in ways that heat my body more.
One hand climbs to my breast and caresses, his thumb brushing my hardened nipple.
His hand is so big my breast must feel small to him, but I don’t care.
I love it too much to give it more thought.
“Is this the ‘more’ you wanted, little angel?” His cock rubs my clit again, and I’m gone, crying to the heavens, the sound echoing in the corridor.
Wes
I swore to myself no kissing on the mouth this time.
I’d broken that rule, and I wanted to distance myself from more intimacy with Fable, but then she confessed her needs, and I lost it.
Nothing tastes as good as she does. Her tongue has the same cherry Coke flavor as last night.
But it’s more than that. Those plump lips of hers call to me and feel like a dream against mine.
Her entire body does. She’s sweet, honest, brave, strong, a savior, and under my skin so fucking deep it makes me weak.
“I love when you come,” I confess and almost forget to sound Scottish. “You glow. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I hate staring at her through this damn mask.
“I glow?” She brushes away stray bangs that escaped from her wig, looking gorgeous in her disheveled state.
“You orgasm with your entire body and you’re not quiet about it—not that I’m complaining.” Slowly, I lower her to her feet.
She pulls down her skirt. “And that’s glowing to you?”
“No.” I brush her warm cheek with the backs of my fingers. “After you come, your skin brightens and glistens like you’re glowing.”
Her cheeks darken to a red shade like the walls in the Crimson Chamber.
“I’ve embarrassed you.” I fight a wide grin, aware of how much I smile around her. Something I rarely do with friends and never with a woman I’m fucking or who I plan to fuck.
She glances at her platform shoes, looking like the sweet angel she is. “No one’s ever said anything like this to me. It’s sweet, and well, I’ve just never heard it.”
A guy should have told her this before. I would have killed him, but she should have heard it.
“How is that possible?” I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep from hauling her against me fiercely as if she were mine to shield from all the monsters in the world.
“I can’t answer without talking about other guys, not that there were many, as we’ve established.”
Bollocks. Now I need to know. “How many?” My jaw clamps, but she doesn’t notice, her focus still on her shoes.
“Two.” She pulls her long braid over her shoulder, which came loose from the bottom of the wig, and plays with the ends. “They weren’t boyfriends. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Did you fuck these guys?” I snarl.
Her gaze shoots up, her lips parted with shock. She takes in my tense body and tight fists. The distrust in her eyes tells me all I need to know. I screwed up badly just now, showing her my anger.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore.” She backs away, her gaze on me. “It’s upsetting my boss.”
“I’m your boss,” I remind her, fighting my anger.
“My supervisor,” she corrects. “I’d really like to continue working here.” She keeps backing up, hugging the wall, her gaze locked on me.
And I’d really like to continue what we’re doing. Fuck. I shove my fists into my pockets and work to soften my lips that are pressed firmly together.
“Fable…” Her name comes out in a whisper and in my British accent. Dammit.
She raises her palm, seeming to miss my slip-up. “Please. I can’t afford for this not to work out.”
“Explain that. Please,” I add in a soft tone, the fake Scottish accent back in place.
She stops and glances at the door.
I stay where I am, not wanting to push her further away. “I want to help you.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why?”
You saved me. I owe you. I searched for you for years but gave up too soon. I want to know your secrets. I need to touch you. “I told you last night, I sense a kindred spirit. And… this is my way of paying it forward for something that was done for me at a time when I needed it.”
I’ve never talked this much to anyone other than Lachlan about business.
When we’re hammered, we get into shit we’d never say sober, but I’ve never had to talk this much to get someone to stay with me.
Women beg. I turn them down, except for a select few.
But with Fable, I’m the one desperate to make her stay.
Tessa would say it proves I’m capable of caring for a woman who’s not my sister.
I’ve never held back with Tessa, but she’s right, openly showing affection to someone else isn’t anything I’ve ever bothered to do.
I never wanted to. This is another change in my life—one that forced itself on me when Fable showed up at Lachlan’s and again here at my house.
Fable looks less apprehensive after hearing my comment about “paying it forward.” Of course, that would be what softens her to me.
“Can I think about it?” she asks.
“Think about letting me help you?” Most people in her position would jump at this.
She nods.
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs and exits through the door.
My mood sours. Another night without getting laid, the reason why I came here, but sleeping with anyone other than Fable doesn’t feel right—which is exactly why I should do it.
I’m about to turn when a startled Fable barrels in through the hidden door.
“What happened?” I clench my fists, ready to commit murder.
“My mask.” She points to it on the floor where I tossed it.
I scoop it up and make sure the satin tie is intact. If it weren’t, would that be so bad? I’d rather she stay with me or retreat to her room than let her return to work.
She ambles toward me as I walk to meet her halfway. It’s all I can do not to try to coax her to stay, but if I want to earn back her trust, I need to let her think she’s in control, even though I have a plan to win her over. I always do.