Page 132 of Red Masquerade

He held my thigh at his hip and began to thrust with a frenzy, his other fist tangled in my hair, holding me to the bed. I had no energy to do anything but feel, to bask in him.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, falling over me, spreading my legs wider.

I moaned as his thrusts turned to a grinding, his cock nudging against the spot that drew the most pleasure. In moments, I was panting, yearning for air, my climax barreling toward its peak before I could stop it. I came shuddering against him, my muscles clenching around him, and he groaned in approval, thrusting deeply, harshly.

He spilled his seed inside me a few moments later, exhaling harshly against my ear, his hips stilling as his cock twitched inside of me. My legs tightened around his waist, ankles hooking to hold him there.

He pushed the hair out of my face, kissing me once more. Our lips crashed together, my tongue warring with his, until he wrenched away from me, his fangs sharp and glinting in the low light. He teased my ear with his tongue, drawing another sigh from me.

I felt his teeth graze against my pulse again, the spot that had already healed, and a thrill shot through me, the urge to hold him there, urge him to take more, more. Take all of me.

“Loving you has been the greatest torture,” he breathed, “and my greatest feat.” He sucked on the sensitive skin on my neck before groaning and grinding into me once more. My back arched off the bed.

“And you will have an eternity to do it,” I sighed.

He hummed, and when he pulled away from me, leaving me empty, I saw in his eyes that this had been his goodbye.

Forty-Six

Within an hour, a bag was packed for me, sent to the driver waiting outside.

Sundown was coming, the bright blue of the afternoon fading into a watercolor of hues. In the time Vince and I spent upstairs, the servants had begun stringing up decorations, setting up a huge buffet-like feast in the center of the ballroom. Enough food to feed an army.

Entertainers shuffled in, the newcomers staring up in awe at the swirling demons and angels, the ones who’d been here before moving on without a glance. Even without any guests, the house still buzzed with energy; so many people milling about and working in anticipation of the thousands we expected this evening.

I let Vince usher me outside without a fight. Pressed my lips to his in a lingering kiss, not wanting to pull away. That beast was pacing, waiting to snap.

And when the driver pulled up in front of Flora’s house, the sun nearly below the horizon, I told him to wait there. His eyes widened in confusion for a moment, but he couldn’t refuse, couldn’t make his way back to the manor just yet.

Vince had said his servants were mine to command.

Flora opened the door before I had a chance to knock, golden light spilling onto the street. Dressed in her evening gown, a soft rosy dress, with her evening robe and slippers. The smell of dinner wafted onto the doorstep.

She gave me a skeptical look. “You know I am always open to you coming over,” she said. “You will always be welcome here, but—are you sure you’re okay?”

I stepped past the threshold, shooting one last glance at the driver to make sure he didn’t leave.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Over the phone, I had told her everything she needed to know—that Vince was throwing a huge party, and though I knew she would want to come, seeing thatinvitationswere posted everywhere, I needed her to stay home, where she was safe. That Vince thought maybe some dangerous people would show up at an open invite, and he didn’t even wantmethere. So I needed to stay the night.

I set my overnight bag down after she shut the door.

Flora’s eyes narrowed. “You look suspicious.”

“Because I’m not staying.”

The clink of cutlery, her parents dining, twinkled down the hall, the soft murmur of voices.

Flora, hands on her hips, raised a brow. But it took only a moment for a grin to pull at her lips.

“Will you help me get ready?”

“Is that a question?” She grabbed me, pulling me toward the stairs, up to her bedroom. The same childhood bedroom we gossiped over boys, the same bedroom we cried over things that now seemed so frivolous.

“Let’s make you so stunning that he won’t think twice about jumping on you,” she said, a sparkle in her eyes.

We were never very good at listening to what our men told us to do.