“Will you come to a private room with…with me?” he asked, his tone hesitant.
She drew in her breath through her nose. That question was shocking and there was a part of her that was, indeed, shocked. A deeper part, though, felt something else. A longing that she’d denied herself, even when she watched. A need that now screamed inside her head.
“Yes,” she said, without meaning to do so. And yet once she had whispered it, there was no regret for having said it.
She wanted to go with him. She wanted what would happen next.
He took her hand and guided her back inside. They went to the hallway where she’d watched dozens of couples disappear over the nights she’d come here. Her masked stranger said something to the guard there, who nodded and handed over a key.
The hallway felt impossibly long as they walked down it. Behind the other doors there were the unmistakable sounds of passion. She shivered to think her own voice would soon join that chorus.
At the door, he turned the key and stepped aside to allow her to enter. She gasped. She hadn’t spent an inordinate amount of time imagining these rooms, to do so was to go too far. When she had, her mind had created something tawdry. Something dirty and small.
This was not that. It was a beautiful chamber, with fine furniture, a roaring fire and lovely, if naughty, artwork decorating the walls. Images of men and women, wound together in pleasure. Mouths and hands roving like they did outer rooms. She turned her face and looked at the large bed that was the chamber’s centerpiece.
He shut the door. It sounded like a shotgun blast. She jumped and then shuddered as she stared at that bed. Pictured what would happen there next. It felt almost impossible to put herself into the place of the fantasies she’d spun.
“If you want to change your mind—” he began.
She pivoted to face him and found he was leaning on the door, just watching her. She swallowed hard. This was a chance she was taking, something entirely against her character.
And yet she felt nothing but desire to do it. Her uncle was certain to match her sooner rather than later. Another old man as her husband had been, another unfulfilled life where she reached out for connection and passion and found nothing in return.
She hadearnedthis night after so many empty ones. And she would hold it close to her when it was over as some reminder than she could inspire desire in a man like this.
“I realize it’s wanton and even…wrong, but Idowant this,” she said with a blush. “I don’t understand it, I can’t explain it, but the moment I saw you it was as if this was meant to be. I don’t want to change my mind.”
He stared at her a beat, then pushed off the door and came toward her in three long steps. He caught her arms and kissed her again. But this time there was nothing gentle to it, nothing hesitant. He claimed, angling his head so he could drive his tongue into her mouth and taste every inch of her.
She jolted against him as sensation cascaded through her. Warmth and desire. Pleasure and anticipation. But mostly need. Hard, heavy, harsh need that throbbed between her legs and tingled through the rest of her.
She’d felt need before. That remembered need was why she’d come here in the first place. But it had never been like this. It had always been an echo—this was a symphony. Loud and riotous and utterly beautiful as it lifted her body and quieted her rowdy mind.
Her stranger’s hands fisted against her back and he groaned deep in his throat as he kissed her with growing intensity. She was drowning in him, lost entirely, unable to do anything but hold tight and be swept away.
“You’ve done this before?” he asked, breaking from the kiss at last, though his face remained close to hers, his breath still stirred her lips and made her dizzy. “I don’t want to hurt you, to compromise you.”
She managed to jerk out a nod. “I have. I was married, remember?”
His gaze narrowed slightly, a troubled expression she couldn’t place. But then he dropped his mouth again and any thoughts or concerns she had regarding his reaction were gone. And it was perfect. That kiss deepened, slowed, and now it was an exploration of her. She found herself melting, her legs shaking as he continued to just kiss her.
It was amazing, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. But she wanted more. This was her only chance to get more. She had to take it, it seemed.
Her hands were flat against his chest and she slid them down to find the buttons on his waistcoat. It was a fine garment—the man was obviously very rich—and she struggled a moment to get the perfectly fitted piece open so she could push it and his jacket away.
He froze as her hands slid against the thin shirt beneath. He drew back and looked at her again. His expression was serious, thoughtful, filled with anticipation, but also hesitation.
“You’vedone this before, haven’t you?” she teased gently.
The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile, something wicked, and her stomach flipped at the sight. Even with half his face covered, this man was wildly attractive. Not the kind of man she’d ever expected to be attracted to her.
But it was the place and the masks and the moonlight, perhaps. Whatever it was, she was going to make the most of it.
“I have,” he said softly, then put a little space between them and helped her get the jacket and waistcoat off. He reached up and loosened his cravat, unwinding the fabric over and over until he tossed it aside with the rest.
She caught her breath as his shirt parted and revealed just the beginnings of a well-formed chest. She swallowed hard. Her husband had been soft, older, not hideous but by no meansthis. Was she in over her head?
“Changing your mind?” he asked.
