I slipped through the crowd at the masquerade ball, my black lace mask hiding my face, but not the way my heart raced. The ballroom was a whirl of silk and shadows, chandeliers casting golden light over masked strangers. I felt alive, untethered, and then I saw him—tall, his dark suit tailored to perfection, his silver mask glinting as he watched me from across the room. His gaze was a pull I couldn’t resist.
I moved toward him, my heels clicking softly, and he met me halfway, his presence commanding yet gentle. “Dance with me,” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver through me. I nodded, and his hand found mine, warm and sure, guiding me to the dance floor. His other hand settled on my waist, pulling me close, and I gasped as our bodies aligned, the heat of him seeping through my dress.
We swayed to the music, but it was his touch that held me captive. His fingers traced slow patterns on my lower back, each movement sparking a fire under my skin. I tilted my face up, and his lips brushed mine, a fleeting tease that left me breathless. “Not here,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear, and I let him lead me to a shadowed alcove, hidden behind velvet curtains.
Alone, he pressed me gently against the wall, his hands framing my face as he kissed me properly. His lips were firm, hungry, and I melted into him, my hands sliding to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. The kiss deepened, his tongue coaxing mine, and I moaned softly, my fingers curling into his jacket. His hands roamed, one slipping to my hip, the other brushing the bare skin of my shoulder where my dress dipped low. Each touch was electric, making my body hum with want.
I tugged him closer, my lips trailing to his jaw, and he groaned, his hand sliding down my side, grazing the curve of my thigh. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his voice rough, and I smiled against his skin, emboldened. I kissed him again, harder, my hands exploring the hard planes of his back, and he responded, his fingers digging into my hips, pulling me flush against him.
The music faded, the world reduced to the heat of his mouth, the press of his body. When we finally parted, both panting, he traced a finger along my swollen lips, his eyes dark behind his mask. “I need to know you,” he said, and I felt the same ache, knowing this night was only the start.
