his gaze. It was dark, obsidian and unreadable beneath the mask. Perhaps he was disgusted. Perhaps he could not imagine why she had taken his request to dance as an invitation for more.
He caught her hand, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling it back.
She froze, thinking she had made a terrible error. Then, he turned her hand, slowly rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist. She shivered, her body taking his touch for exactly what it was. A response. A yes.
She swallowed hard, looking back off the dance floor to try to catch sight of her brother. He was nowhere to be seen. Which meant he had likely already taken off with a woman who had caught his attention. Good for her, he wasn’t here to babysit.
She had no idea how to do this. Most especially without talking. And her mystery man seemed intent on keeping things silent between them. She didn’t mind it. It heightened the electric feelings coursing through her.
She had no idea who he was, and he had no idea of her true identity. That was only a good thing. Her engagement to the prince of Santa Firenze was highly publicized. And though she doubted she would be famous worldwide, in Venice, there would certainly be some awareness of who she was.
But, soon, there was no decision to be made. Because he was moving her off the dance floor, away from the crowd and down an empty corridor. Her heart was thundering hard. And for a moment, she had the big concern that she was perhaps being kidnapped. She had not imagined that kidnapping might feel so close to seduction, or vice versa.
Now she was just thinking crazy things because she could hardly breathe for the fear and excitement that were jockeying for pride of place inside her.
He pressed her into an alcove, the music fading completely into the background. She could hear no one, and nothing. And in that moment, as the mysterious man in black filled her vision, it was as though they were the only two people on earth.
He pressed his thumb against her lips, tracing the edge of her mouth, a sensual shiver racking her frame. Then he let his fingertips drift down her neck, and down farther, to the neckline of her gown. His touch was featherlight over the rounded swells of her breasts, but it resonated inside her, deep and low. All consuming.
That was when she knew for certain she had not misinterpreted the situation. When she knew for sure that this was a seduction. And she was perilously close to being seduced.
But would she allow it?
Even as she had the thought, she realized how ridiculous it was. She had already allowed it. From the moment she had taken that offered hand, she had been saying yes.
His hand traveled all the way down to her hip, and he began gathering the deep purple fabric of her gown, pulling it up around her thighs. His fingertips brushed between her legs, brief, tantalizing contact in the place where she was beginning to burn for him.
Then, he pressed his palm against her stomach, pushing his hand upward, tugging the neckline of her dress to the side, exposing one of her breasts, then the other. She gasped, barely able to believe what was happening. What she was allowing him to do.
In truth, she wasn’t allowing anything. She was simply a captive to it. To him. And she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind at all.
He dragged his thumb over one sensitized nipple, and she gasped. Then he pinched her tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger.
She arched more deeply into his touch, and he lifted both hands, cupping her, squeezing her tight. Then his hands were back on her skirt, drawing it up, exposing her to him. His fingers slipping between her thighs so that he could tease her. Then beneath her underwear, touching her more intimately than anyone ever had before.
She felt lost in him, in this. She had never known pleasure like this. It was like being in the center of a sensual storm. She felt his touch everywhere, teasing her, pushing her toward the brink.
She raised her hands, pressing them up against his chest, parting the buttons on his shirt. She sucked in a harsh breath, her fingers making contact with his skin for the first time as she traced his hard muscles, the heat of his skin shocking, so sexy she thought she might collapse onto the floor. A crumpled bit of Allegra. And she couldn’t have that. Because then, he would probably figure out her inexperience, and he would very likely leave her standing there unsatisfied.
He was too perfect for words, a temptation she didn’t want to turn away from. She leaned in, kissing his neck. His lips might be covered by the mask, but hers weren’t. The touch of her skin against his left behind a smudge of red, and a bit of white from all the paint on her face. She didn’t care. She liked it. She wanted to leave him marked by this, because God knew she would be.
She moved her exploration down, to his hard chest. His muscles and the crisp hair on his skin were completely new sensations for her. Touching him like this sent an arrow of desire down low in her stomach.
It didn’t take him long to continue on in what she’d started. He moved his hands down to the closure of his slacks, and pressed her more firmly against the wall. His body was flush against hers, his hot, hard arousal seated firmly against where she was wet and ready for him.
He flexed his hips, his hardness pressing into her softness. A wave of pleasure rolled over her and she let her head fall back as a small moan escaped her lips.
He moved his hand, lifting her thigh and curving her leg around his hip, before shifting his stance and thrusting deep inside her. This time, when she cried out it was in pain.
She had known that losing her virginity would hurt, but she hadn’t realized it would be quite this painful.
Her partner didn’t seem to notice that the tenor of her voice had changed, because he withdrew slowly, before pressing back. This time, it didn’t hurt quite as badly. And with each subsequent thrust, it hurt less and less, until gradually the pleasure returned. Until that sharp, tearing pain transformed into a deep gnawing ache.
It grew, spread outward, pressed deeper, blooming into hot, frantic pleasure. She began to rock against him, grabbing hold of his shoulders, burying her face in the crook of his neck as her climax overtook her completely. She pressed her lips against his skin as her orgasm washed over her. A never-ending assault that left her spent, breathless.
Then, on a growl, he thrust inside her one last time, bracing himself against the wall as he found his own release.
For a moment, the world seemed to spin around them. She was dizzy with pleasure, with desire. And she felt...connected to this man. To this man she didn’t know at all.
He withdrew from her body, taking a step back. He began to button his shirt, doing his pants up again, his mask still firmly in place. He was as dark and mysterious as he had been from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. And, were it not for the smear of red and white on his neck, she would never have known he’d been touched.
But the evidence was there. If the electric sensation coursing through her body and the throbbing ache between her thighs weren’t evidence enough, then that would serve.
He looked at her for a moment, then he tugged his gloves more firmly in place, and turned, walking away from her, back toward the ballroom.
Leaving her alone.
Leaving Allegra Valenti, who had never done anything but quietly protest her position in life, who had certainly never made a move
