Chapter 11
AURORA
Ilock the door to the en-suite…
Something Raiden didn’t do.
How do I know that?
I may or may not have snuck to the en-suite door–which he left slightly cracked–and pushed it open. And I may or may not have let curiosity get the better of me.
When I saw him standing in the shower through the glass door, his eyes closed, his huge manhood in his big hand and every muscle tight as he focused on his fantasy, I almost joined him.
For a crazy, misguided moment, I almost tore off my clothes and climbed into the shower with him. I imagined whispering, “Are you thinking of me, sir?”
Then, I quickly closed the door and hurried back into the bedroom.
I shouldn’t have looked. I shouldn’t even be thinking like this.
Sleeping with him will just complicate matters. What if he thinks there’s something real because of that?
And afterwards, when he was arguing with that guy, he looked devastated. He tried to hide it with a gruff attitude, but in his eyes he betrayed the little boy who needed a hug.
I rub soap on my breasts and over my stomach, thinking about after. The spanking, the kissing sting of it. It was my reward, he said.
Give me a break.
I get ready in here, not wanting to change in front of him. I do my makeup and my hair and everything else with the door firmly locked. It takes just over an hour. I emerge in my party dress.
Raiden is waiting for me, wearing a well-tailored tuxedo that might as well not exist… all I see is his naked, muscled, soaking wet body. He makes a throaty noise when he lays eyes on me.
“That dress is stunning,” he says.
I enjoy the compliment. Is that so bad?
“Thank you,” I reply. “I’ll just get my mask, and then I’m good to go.”
He takes his mask from the bed and puts it on. It’s white with gold trim. Mine is an off-white color with silver additions dotted around, like teardrops or glitter.
He takes my shoulders and leans down.
I suck in a breath at how close he is, and whisper, “What are you doing?” But I don’t stop him.
“We didn’t practice kissing with the masks on.”
I should tell him no. Nobody’s watching. There’s no need for this.
Then his lips are on mine. The masks knock together, but it doesn’t make him taste any less addictive, doesn’t make the sensations burning through my body any less real.
“Okay, it works,” I say, moving away.
He keeps his hand on the small of my back, pinning me in place. “You’re not going anywhere. Now, you belong to me.”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur, thinking of the fifty K, of saving the shop, of Grandma.
He keeps his hand on me the whole time until we’re in the grand dining hall.
A long table dominates the room with a raised chair at the head of it, where Evangeline sits, wearing the same outfit as earlier.
Waiters and waitresses in masks crisscross the room with our d'oeuvres.
Men and women in suits and elegant dresses, all masked, talk in small circles.
When Evangeline stands, everyone moves toward the table. I follow Raiden’s lead. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated. Everyone else seems to know what they’re doing.
Waiters and waitresses bring out glasses of champagne for the fifty-some guests, laying them in front of us.
Evangeline raises her glass. It takes me a beat to follow suit when everyone does the same.
“Welcome, esteemed guests,” Evangeline says in a loud voice.
“Strangers, mystery men and women, hidden pleasure seekers and masters of society. Here, you are free to forget about the world, about your responsibilities, indeed, about yourselves. Here, masked, you are no one. And no one is here to judge you.”
“No one,” everyone repeats in unison.
“And everyone is free to be whoever they wish!”
“Everyone,” they all say in unison.
“Drink, and be forgotten! Drink, and never remember!”
Everyone raises their glasses and drinks. I take a small sip, not wanting to get drunk or even tipsy. Many people drain their glasses and then immediately gesture to the waitstaff for another.
“Now what?” I ask, leaning into Raiden.
“There are several rooms we can go to. We can eat, dance, drink, or… do other things.”
Evangeline is looking over at us as the other guests climb to their feet and go their separate ways. Perhaps that’s why Raiden is leaning in so close, why his arm is so obviously wrapped around my shoulders. Like I’m his property.
“We’ll dance,” he says when I don’t reply.
He stands, then offers me his hand, helping me to my feet. I try not to enjoy the relinquishment of responsibility, but it’s difficult.
It’s easier when he takes the lead.
We step into a large hall with a live band playing slow-dance music, all of them wearing masks. Raiden wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. I lay my cheek against his chest so the mask isn’t disturbed, feeling his strong steady heartbeat, the firmness of his body.
In my memory, he’s naked, his chest corroded with muscle, every sinew of his powerful body tight with need. His manhood was huge, and I wonder…
No, don’t got there. I won’t start thinking about if I can take him.
We’re not doing that.
He gently brushes the hair from my mask, and tucks it behind my ear, then smooths his hand down my back and takes my hand. I go with the flow.
“I’ve never been much of a dancer,” I whisper.
“You’re doing great,” he whispers back.
A couple spins by us.
“Don’t look at anyone else,” Raiden growls. “You only have eyes for me.”
That all too familiar warm tingling pools in my belly. Obeying him is far easier than it should be.
We gaze into each other’s eyes as we dance. It’s simpler with the masks on. Pretending has never felt more natural.
Two songs pass with us pressed together. It’s like our bodies feel none of the doubt, or, at least, I feel. I push that thought away and just try to enjoy it for what it is. A slow dance with a handsome, muscular man.
Constantly monitoring myself, making sure I’m not growing attracted to him, is becoming tiring.
He glides his hand down my body, toward my ass.
“Do you want other people to see this?” I whisper.
“No one else exists. Just us, Aurora. Just my greedy touch and your perfect ass.”
The compliment should mean nothing to me, but it swims through me with an undeniable warmth I can’t tame or ignore. Before his hands come to rest fully on my ass, I place my hand against his chest and gently push away.
“Maybe we could explore the rest of the Retreat.”
He smirks. “Afraid you’ll get too excited?”
Maybe. Just a little.
I seriously shouldn’t have peered into the en-suite.
“Sure,” he says, his smirk never leaving his face. He knows the effect he’s having on me.
He places his hand on the small of my back again, as if sending a message to everyone else. She is mine…
As we walk through the party, it strikes me that I have nothing on my mental to-do list. Normally, there’s a task waiting for me, whether at college or the shop or with Grandma. Now, all I have to do is let Raiden lead me down a windowed corridor and into a beautiful garden.
Torches flicker, lighting our way. I gasp when I see it.
In the corner, in front of a roaring fire, a man and two women rub against each other, tearing at each other’s clothes, the women paying as much attention to each other as the man. It’s unbridled lust like I’ve never seen in real life. It’s like a porn film.
“Has something offended your delicate sensibilities?” Raiden croons.
“Ha ha,” I mutter sarcastically.
He points to the corner of the garden. Trellises provide the framework for crisscrossing vines and flowers, the nature turned orange by the torchlight. A tall, lean man wearing a purple suit and a full-faced mask stands with a top hat in his hand.
“He’s the Dare Master,” Raiden says. “He must’ve dared those three to go at it.”
“Go at it,” I repeat dryly. “How romantic.”
“Let’s see what he has in store for me.”
We proceed to the corner.
“I humble myself before you, Dare Master,” Raiden says ceremonially. “What do you dream of for me?”
The Dare Master titters and reaches into his hat, then takes out a note and unfolds it, reads it, and hands it to Raiden.
Raiden’s smile vanishes when he reads it. He scrunches it up and tosses it to the ground.
“Give me a dare like that again,” he growls, “and I’ll break your fucking nose.”
Raiden storms away, leaving me to stare after him open-mouthed.
“Uh, sorry,” I say awkwardly, hurrying after Raiden.