Masked Definitions (14 page)

Finally, it’s time for the dress. I really hope that I don’t hate it.

I can’t help being excited as she carries two bags from her walk in closet and hangs them over the door.

“I guessed your size based on the clothes you left here the last time.”

“Why do I have the feeling that you’ve been planning to drag me to this thing since way before tonight?”

Her smile is wicked. “You caught me. I wanted to make our last meeting up to you. These functions can sometimes be really fun and tonight’s is especially fancy.”

“I can tell.”

“They make me feel like a princess.”

I laugh a little until she reveals the dress and then I choke. “Oh my.”

It’s stunning. Shimmering, black lace shapes the top, the gorgeous thick arm straps sitting right on the edge of my shoulders. The fabric clings to my body to just below the hip where it fans out in a shower of translucent lace. The bottom reveals the entire length of both of my legs and, as I walk, one leg peeks through a long slit.

“Max is going to kill you,” I say softly as I admire myself in the mirror.

“It’s gorgeous, right?”

“I don’t have words.” I turn and grin when I see the way it hangs over my generous behind. Never has a dress complimented my shape so well.

I slip on the heels that she provides and admire those too. They’re simple black stilettos but, with the dress, I don’t need anything else. It’d be too fussy and wouldn’t look right.

“You look like a princess.”

“I feel like one.”

I also feel extremely guilty.

“Come on, let’s go and show off to the men.” She saunters ahead in a peach gown; the back comes so low I’m surprised we can’t see butt crack. It suits her perfectly.

“Do these things have any rules?” I ask quietly as we make our way down the stairs.

“No, just don’t swear and don’t get involved with any conversation regarding politics.”

“Duly noted.”

“And don’t fall,” Stefan pipes in as he exits the room to meet us at the bottom of the stairs. “My, my… don’t you two look wonderful? The Duke and his brother are going to, for lack of better words, be sporting boners all night.”

A giggle escapes me and it turns into a laugh when Penelope hits him upside his head.

“Clearly doesn’t know how to take a compliment,” he jests and offers his arm to me. “Your husband will be down shortly; I think he may need help with his bowtie.”

I quirk a brow as we step into the living room. “You’ve gotten him to wear a bowtie?”

“The Duke insisted.”

“Ugh,” Penelope groans. “Don’t call him that; it inflates his ego far too much.”

“It is my title, is it not?” Comes a familiar male voice from the far end of the room.

My eyes hit his profile as he stands, leaning against the wall by the window, a glass tumbler in hand. Clear liquid swims at the bottom as he rotates the glass in his fingers. He looks breathtakingly handsome in his tailored suit. I see that he also seems to be sporting a bowtie and it doesn’t look ridiculous at all. I want to wet my lips but they’re covered in a plum coloured matt lipstick that I don’t want to ruin.

He looks at me briefly before cutting to Penelope. “You look lovely, as always.”

Penelope bows a little. “Thank you,
dearest
husband.” Uh-oh, it seems they haven’t repaired the rift between them. This should make for an interesting night. “What about Olivia? Doesn’t she look amazing?”

He hums but returns to staring out of the window.

I can’t help but feel a little bit disappointed. A huge part of me wanted this vision of me to stop him in his tracks, force him to gape at me in awe and fuck me with his eyes.

Rick was right. Once you give them a taste of the gold between your thighs, they lose interest. The thrill is in the game.

Fuck.

Breathing a heavy sigh, I move to the fireplace and play with a small, wooden toy aeroplane that rests on the mantelpiece.

Max needs to hurry up. I want to get this over and done with. I’m not looking forward to his response.

“Thank you again for inviting us and clothing us,” I say to Penelope as a way to break the silence.

She smiles and waves me off. “Not at all. We’ll get there and drink ourselves into the abyss.”

“Holy fuck.” Max declares,
loudly.
“Liv?”

I turn to face him inhaling calm breaths as I go. He takes me in, his mouth hanging open. He looks a mixture of awed and upset.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

“She looks stunning,” Penelope defends, offended by his lack of smile.

“She’s not wearing that,” he says to her. “Not a chance.” He glares at me. “Go and put some clothes on.”

“And so it begins,” I murmur and look to Penelope. “When are we leaving?”

“Now.”

“Good.”

“I’m not kidding; you can’t wear that in public.” Max whines, coming towards me. His hand hovers in the air between us. “You look too good.” He turns to Penelope. “She looks too good.”

“Of course she does.”

“I love the tie,” I comment, flicking the bow beneath his chin. His suit is almost identical to Elijah’s, except his has a grey seam by the buttons.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Elijah puts in, finally releasing himself from his brooding mind. He frowns at his brother. “She looks perfectly okay…”

Perfectly okay?

“Until some rich dude falls for her and takes her away from me,” Max mutters and I notice Elijah flinch and his eyes come to mine for half of a second. Was that remorse? Does he regret what we did together?

“Stop it.” I hit Max’s arm before gripping it in a gentle hold. “You’re always having a go at me for wearing baggy clothes and it was only a couple of weeks ago at the park that you said you wished I’d wear nice dresses more often. I won’t leave you all night.” I know this is a lie. Elijah will take him off on social rounds and I’ll be off with Penelope, but it seems to settle him for now. He sulks all the way to the limo and then cheers up when he sees that we’re riding in a limo.

I climb into the back already feeling nauseous and we haven’t yet started moving. I take a seat by the door on the left and Penelope sits on the sideways bench by the mini fridge. She immediately opens it, grinning wickedly, and hands me a bottle of wine.

Elijah surprisingly sits beside me as Max slides up and down the bench by Penelope. I tense, unsure how to react when Elijah’s hip rests against my own. Though he doesn’t seem fazed, he doesn’t even acknowledge me as Penelope pours wine into four glasses and he hands me mine.

I sip it greedily, feeling moronic for doing so on an empty stomach.

“Do you go out in limos often?” Max asks Elijah.

“Sometimes,” Elijah responds and drains his wine glass in one.

Penelope quirks a brow at him. “It’s unlike you to drink so quickly. Everything okay?”

Elijah nods and presses a button on the wall by his head; soft music begins to lilt in the background. I close my eyes and breathe. I hate sitting in the back of vehicles,
hate
it.

“It’s a short journey,” Elijah says close to my ear.

I tilt my head to acknowledge him.

“Don’t bite your lip,” Penelope admonishes and the limo finally begins to move. “You’ll get lipstick in your teeth.”

“Oops.” I didn’t even realise I’d trapped my lower lip with my top teeth. I look around me for a mirror. Penelope shrugs apologetically when I ask her. I’m surprised when Elijah gently holds my chin between his finger and thumb and tilts my head back. He dips his head as he looks at my two front teeth.

“You’re good,” he says, turning my head slightly side to side. Our eyes meet and I inhale a sharp breath when I see his dilated pupils staring back at me. Maybe it’s from the dark but, by the way he squeezes my chin, I know it isn’t. He pulls away leaving me feeling chilled so I wrap my arms around myself and watch Max as he messes around with the multiple buttons on the wall near him so as to figure out their functions.

I down my glass of wine and Penelope claps her hands once. “That’s more like it.” She follows suit and retrieves the bottle of sweet, flowery tasting wine from the mini fridge.

I feel a buzz behind my eyes and my body relaxes ever so slightly.

“Let the fun begin.” I grin at my new friend.

Penelope refills our glasses and we clink them together.

I’m not sure what I expected when I was told of this function. I’m pretty sure I had this entire event planned out in my head and I wasn’t far off. I assumed there would be a dinner, but there isn’t going to be a dinner. Instead there’s a fancy buffet with foods I can’t even pronounce. According to Penelope we must avoid the buffet, but I’m so hungry.

She plies me with expensive champagnes and cocktails that cost a ridiculous amount per glass. All proceeds go to ill third world babies though so I’m not complaining; it’s not like she and Elijah can’t afford it.

I’m carted around and introduced to people whose names I’ll never remember. Fortunately, I see nobody that I’ve danced for and I’m actually very relieved about this.

Max has also been dragged around by Elijah, who has introduced him as a cousin instead of a brother. Penelope explained as she was doing my nails that it’s better for people not to know that the prior Duke had a love child. It’d shine badly on Elijah. I’m not sure how, but I just agreed anyway. It doesn’t matter what they tell others, it matters how they treat each other.

I wave at my husband in the distance as he is pulled into a debate with three older gents. He waves back and gives me a desperate look for help but I ignore it, too happy that I’ve managed to finally ditch Penelope and find my way to the buffet.

I don’t even care that hardly any other women have snacked from it tonight. It’s ridiculous to waste food. There’s enough here for double the amount of people in the room. It seems hypocritical to not eat from a buffet that was made to support starving babies and children.

“Enjoying yourself?” Elijah asks, standing close to my shoulder as I pluck a few grapes from a bowl of fruit and snag a pastry of some kind with my other hand.

“Not really,” I admit and pop a grape into my mouth.

“Me neither,” he whispers and smiles at a friend across the table. A gasp leaves me when I feel his hand brush over the curve of my arse. It sends a chill through me so powerful, I drop the pastry onto the table. My eyes focus on it as it rolls on its edge before bouncing off a plate, leaving a creamy residue along the rim.

He looks around, ensuring that nobody can see what he’s doing. I stare at the food, willing my body to behave, though I know it won’t. Already I’m squeezing my thighs together and already my mind is flickering with memories of the orgasms we’ve shared. How is it that he has such power over me? “You see those double doors over there?” I nod discreetly, clocking the large cream doors immediately. “Meet me on the other side in five minutes.”

“Sorry?” I breathe. He’s joking, right?

His hand slides up my back, drawing sensual circles with his fingers. “Five minutes, Enna.”

“Is this a joke?”

“You know it isn’t.”

My lips part. I pop another grape between them and glance around the room. To everyone else we probably look like two acquaintances sharing polite conversation. “I’m busy.”

“Something tells me you’re not too busy for what I’m offering.”

My fingers collect a strawberry and play with the stem. “And what is it that you’re offering?”

“I want you on my cock.” He whispers it so quietly that I barely hear it, though I feel it fan against my cheek and shoot straight to my groin, which clenches with delight at the possibility.

I swallow, my throat constricting almost painfully with it. “Penelope…”

“Is well occupied, as is your husband.” He slides his hand back down to my rear and squeezes. I groan quietly and rest my fingertips on the table to keep myself balanced. “Five minutes.”

He walks away, leaving me feeling flustered and warm. I grab my drink and down it, uncaring of whether such a display is appropriate in this company. An older woman sneers and tuts but nobody else seems to notice. Ignoring her, I look down to check my dress and figure out a way to get from where I am to where I need to be without being spotted.

Max is still chatting with the older men; I don’t see Penelope anywhere in the room. This is good. They’re busy, I have five minutes.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way towards a painting on the wall by the doors and, with a racing heart, I pretend to study it. My hands tremble as I check my hair and glance around the room for nosey peers.

I become paranoid as I slip towards the doors and raise my hand, ready to open the door just enough for me to squeeze through.

“Nobody cares about what you’re doing,” I mutter under my breath, tapping into Enna’s courage before moving through the door and into a dark room. It’s so dark I can hardly see my hand in front of my face so when I feel a warm hand wrap around my wrist, I startle before I recall why I’m here and who invited me.

“Elijah,” I hiss when I’m tugged into his chest and pressed against the door.

Is he serious? Here? Where anybody could find us?

The thought of it sends a powerful tickle to my most private place.

When I feel his lips meet mine and his chest trap me between it and the door, I shiver. Moisture pools between my thighs, drenching my thong as his hands hungrily grasp at every part of me available.

“Duke,” I whisper pleadingly as his hands grope my behind and pull my hips tightly to his.

Then he stops and presses his forehead to mine. “You have no idea… no fucking idea how I’ve had to restrain myself just to keep from doing something foolish.”

His words please every part of me. I had convinced myself that he’d taken what he wanted and was no longer interested.

He grips my bicep with a firm hand and pulls me further into the darkness. Then I’m turned and I feel walls either side of me. I’m in some kind of indent, probably beside a fireplace. There isn’t enough room for me to bend my elbows but when I feel the slit in my skirt being opened and fingers ripping my thong from my pussy, I turn statue still.

Dropping to his knees, he hooks my leg over his shoulder and blows cool air over the mound between my legs.

It all happens so quickly, the only way I can react is by holding onto the wall with flat palms either side of my hips.

“Oh…” I cry when he kisses me there. I feel his tongue part me and never in my life have I felt the urge to orgasm so quickly. My hands move to his head where the lace fabric of my dress rests. “God.”

Wasting no time, he pushes his thumb into my dripping core and sucks my clit into his mouth. I hit my head against the wall when I throw it back to find some semblance of control.

“Duke,” I breathe, pressing his head harder into me as his tongue teases and laps all of the right places. The one leg that I balance on threatens to give out beneath me. “I can’t… I…”

It bursts from within so suddenly, I didn’t feel it coming until it’s raging through me like a fire through a dying forest. My entire body spasms and my mouth opens with a silent scream. I feel myself throbbing, clenching and pulling on his thumb as though to draw him deeper inside. His smile against my thigh is no doubt triumphant.

The burning has yet to dissipate as he stands, holding my dress open, and presses me back into the wall. Then I feel his thumb at my lips, the same thumb that was inside me only seconds ago. He pushes it into my mouth and I don’t hesitate to suck the tangy juices from it. It’s so erotic and I shouldn’t like it but I do. Our eyes meet in the dark and his reactional grunt only makes that fire coursing through me burn brighter.

Dipping his body, he lifts me and hooks my legs around his hips.

Lips come to mine again and his hand leaves one thigh and grips the back of my neck to the point of pain. It keeps my head in place as he moves through the darkness. I love it. I want more of it.

“Hold on,” he says against my mouth and lets me go completely. I cling to him, my arms around his neck and my legs locked behind his back. He lowers me onto some kind of couch and I feel him against my entrance before my back has fully hit it.

This is so dangerous. The party is just on the other side of that door. If anybody saw me leave, they might come looking and… oh
fuck
that feels so good.