Snow Mistress

by Diana Rose Wilson

  “But I have an invitation,” she snarled. “I’m not trespassing.”

  “You stole from a patron of the house. You instigated abduction with intent to rape. You destroyed the possessions of another patron. You are not in your proscribed peacock costume. Your invitation is revoked permanently. You are never welcome in this, or any of my other houses. I’ll be talking with your known associates as well. Leopard, Hound, Hare, Hummingbird, and any others you have poisoned in your drive to get a stupid ribbon.”

  The woman’s face paled at the charges against her. She struggled again before giving up against the iron hold on her thin arms. Her heavy breasts heaved with her panting breath. “It wasn’t only me! You can’t put this all on me! It was Bee. She set this whole thing up. We were—”

  “I’m turning you over to the police to deal with your actions. You’re off the list. In fact, I’m going to speak with a couple other members about their wisdom in including you and your ilk in their lists. This takes bad sportsmanship to an all-time low. You have no concept of the real harm you caused. The house will deal with her and the others next. Trust me. Anyone else you care to tell me about while we’re doing house cleaning?”

  Elane glared from House Mistress to Ursa, fixing her with a look so full of loathing that Ursa would have fallen back a step except the door behind them opened with a slam of the heavy wood. The sound made her start and whirl around.

  Through the open doorway strode Cupid. Every line of his body was taut, his dark features hard. His wings stretched wide on either side of him, making the air around the feathery tips shimmer as though putting off extreme heat. Behind the mask, his eyes were black. They swept back and forth across the room, brushing by everyone until he found the object of his search.

  Her!

  Ursa felt her stomach tighten as their eyes met. Her heart stopped. The air in her lungs felt too hot to breathe. He looked her over, picking out her wounds with a visible tightening of the muscles in his powerful body like a razor wire curling around his anguish. He continued forward, eyes only for her. A strangled sound squeezed out from his clenched teeth before he finally broke into a run to reach her. His arms opened and he enfolded her as he swept her off her feet.

  His swiftness stole her breath, and what remained felt like fire trapped inside her lungs when his arms slid around her and powerful wings mantled over her. He shuttered out the world with the glittery warm caress of feathers and skin. He was flushed so hot it was nearly painful. And yet it felt so good to be surrounded by him. Her bruised, torn knees wobbled precariously but he didn’t let her fall. He held her in the protection of that safe place.

  Her safe place.

  Hers.

  The scent of his chest was all wrong though. As she laid her cheek over his heart, hearing the thunderous song of its beat, her senses were not filled with the heady chocolate and his sweet sweat. He smelled like—

  Sex.

  The pungent scent of pussy hung heavy on him in the hot alcove of his wings and arms. She stiffened and pulled her head back, searching his eyes behind his mask. All she could see was darkness in his gaze, like a vast black night sky. They were full of fury and self-loathing. Stars died in his eyes, melting into tears, making his cheeks wet.

  Ursa felt the betrayal like a hot needle driven into her sternum. She started to push away from him. Her anger spread from her wounded heart up to her eyes, stinging and burning. All the times they had been together, he’d never put his face between her thighs. He’d never tasted her pussy or worn her smell on him like this. This was the mark of another woman all over him.

  He saw her emotions as plain as she saw his and the razor wire snapped. “No!” he cried, sinking to his knees before her, his strong wings cupped around her. His face pressed to her breasts. “Mistress!”

  His anguished tone stilled her attempt to wrestle free of him. Maybe it was the silent tears he pressed against her. His arms wrapped her hips as he sank lower, dragging silken feathers along with him. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t something he’d done of his own free will. This was something done to him. A completely new emotion nested in her chest.

  She had thought she’d felt anger before, but this eclipsed everything.

  She wanted to cripple the person who had reduced her strong, confident lover to this desperate position at her feet. Her fingers caught in his hair and she drew his head back. Her other arm slid around his shoulder. His black eyes searched her face and he quivered. She bowed over him and kissed his mouth. Hard.

  The protective fire in her heart overwhelmed everything else. Her need to show she understood drove every other thought from her mind as she applied the kiss to his blazing-hot mouth. His lips tasted salty but between them, as her tongue darted forward, she found the minty chocolate of him.

  Familiar and perfect.

  The way he kissed her back shattered any last doubt. He was hers! She trusted him. His words during the drive whispered back to her. He did not want her to question him. He needed to know that she didn’t question him.

  “Well, thank goodness,” House Mistress said, sounding deeply relieved.

  Even Dragon made a low rumble of approval.

  Cupid growled against her lips. He squeezed her so tightly she was certain he left bruises where his hands gripped her. She wanted him to leave marks on her. Ursa bit his lower lip before breaking the kiss.

  Looking down at him, she whispered, “You stink.” She forced a smile. “Haven’t I told you not to let any fishy cunt touch you?”

  He made a choked sound of relief and crushed his face against her stomach. “Yes, Mistress.”

  Ursa stroked her fingers through Cupid’s sweaty curls before sliding her arm around his tight shoulders. She affectionately stroked through the soft feathers trailing down his spine. The big man’s tension unraveled at her touches. A gust of his hot breath whispered across her stomach where he pressed his face.

  “You bitch!” The voice was new but could only be the ex.

  Ursa shifted her attention from Cupid, looking up at the woman standing there with murder in her dark eyes. She wore a gold-and-bronze-colored corset ringed with arching black stripes over her breasts, hips and lower back. The rumpled skirt of golden taffeta barely clung to her hips. On her head a dainty crown poised in her black ringlet curls and a mask of ornate onyx filigree was a little askew. Her deep-brown skin was lighter than Cupid’s and while she towered over Ursa, she wasn’t nearly as tall as him.

  Queen Bee was easily the most beautiful and intimidating person Ursa had ever seen.

  In any other situation, Ursa would have lowered her eyes and cowered, doubting herself and her right to breathe the same air as the handsome man at her feet. Not now, though. Now she was consumed by the sharp, protective edge of wrath for what the woman had done to Cupid.

  Through the glamour, she saw how ugly and broken with desperation this creature was. The air around Ursa wavered as those exotic wings curved around her were putting off ethereal energies. It tingled along her skin in warm waves.

  She forced her shoulders to relax and released the breath she’d been holding. This woman wasn’t anything or anyone to fear.

  Bee hissed out sharply when Ursa smiled at her.

  House Mistress intruded before the woman could gather breath to say anything. “I didn’t realize you had such disrespect for consent. This is repugnant for even the greenest newbie to the lifestyle. You take a break from the house and then return, intent on being a bully?” She shook her head in sorrow rather than anger. “We were friends once. God, I never would have thought you would end our friendship this way. You’re no longer welcome in my house.”

  The deepening fury in Bee’s eyes made it obvious she held Ursa responsible. Ursa was not making any friends tonight. How did she manage to draw all the negativity to herself? Was it because this beautiful man dared desire her?

  Bee uttered a furious growl and Cupid stood. His strong body nuzzled up along Ursa as his wings slid up her curves
. He put himself protectively in front of Ursa.

  “There will be no tussling over this,” House Mistress said, shooting a warning look around her. “The police are here. You will go with them.”

  The words drew Bee’s attention and jealous wrath back to the woman in charge.

  “That’s right. Peacock here says you were the one orchestrating this whole disaster, you ridiculous sow.”

  Ursa placed her hand on Cupid’s arm and he shifted, looping it and a wing around her. The contact sent a shimmery tingle along her exposed skin. She wanted to get him to their room and scrub him clean and make sure he was safe. She didn’t care about police or charges. The important thing was making sure things were fixed between her and this huge, gentle man who impossibly wanted her.

  Dragon met Ursa’s eyes and cleared his throat. “Maybe we can let the police take over from here, then? I have a particular party favor waiting for me. Who knows what sort of horrors her imagination is cooking up for why I went chasing after the impostor? Owl, I wish you and your consort the very best.” Despite the savage expression of the mask, the smile he offered them was kind.

  “A fine idea. Enough of our holiday has been spoiled by this. Tomorrow I’ll make announcements about what happened.” House Mistress turned to one of the doormen, speaking quiet instructions before the man strode out of the room to fetch the police who’d been taking statements in another room.

  Ursa urged Cupid to a chair when she felt him leaning into her. She wasn’t sure what had happened or if she wanted the details. He looked haunted. Reluctantly he eased into the seat, sliding his arm from around her. Dragon waited until the police arrived and then made his departure, eager to get back to his companion.

  The women were taken away, a mixture of shock, anger and frustration shared between them. All that wasted energy on the venom feeding on them. Or were they feeding on the poison of their greed and desires? Would they come back? Would their friends who remained seek to punish her or Cupid for what had happened? Or could she hope it would all blow over? Did she want to continue in this lifestyle if that was what she had to look forward to?

  “Owl. Archer. I cannot begin to apologize for my security failing so tremendously tonight. This has all been my fault,” House Mistress said quietly, sinking into a chair as well. The room was very still after the storm of emotions.

  Ursa didn’t sit. She stood beside Cupid, her fingers resting on his forearm, and watched her friend in silence.

  “Say something,” House Mistress pleaded quietly.

  “I need some time to process everything that’s happened here tonight,” Ursa said at last. Cupid looked up at her. She did not mean for her voice to come out so edgy, but it bled out of her.

  “Do you want to stay, or would you rather leave the house?” House Mistress asked in concern.

  Cupid leaned toward her, his expression grim, but she could read the emotion easily enough. It was up to her to decide.

  “I think we will stay. I mean, there’s snow to play in tomorrow. Right? I am not going to let this drive me away.”

  A small, weary smile tugged at the corner of Cupid’s lips. He leaned into her and slid his arm and wing back around her.

  House Mistress let out a low breath of relief before inclining her head. “Good!” She stood gracefully and walked to the door and spoke to the doorman there.

  Alone for a moment, Cupid squeezed her hip and when she looked at him, his eyes searched hers. They were dark but no longer star-spangled black. “Are you all right, love?” he asked in a husky whisper. “Who hurt you? What happened?”

  Ursa felt her stomach flip over several times. She lifted a hand and smoothed her thumb over his cheek. “I’m more than all right.” Had he meant to use that particular endearment? Had his heightened emotions spoken before his mind could edit them? “I will tell you all about it.”

  She expected him to draw away, at least to slip his wing away from touching her, but the feathers continued to tickle her arm, the rippling flutter of sensation more than just a physical reminder of the contact. There was something deeper there. So much lay between them, it felt almost too heavy. She stroked down his spine and over the golden-and-cream barred feathers. He pulled her closer and looked on the verge of saying something else but House Mistress came back to them.

  “All right, darlings. Put a damn token on him, Owl.” She sounded more frustrated than angry as she offered the envelope to Ursa.

  Cupid chuckled low in his throat as she obeyed, tying the token’s silvery-blue ribbon to a D-ring on the leather strap crossing his broad chest.

  “I’ve half a mind to put a permanent token on him,” Ursa announced and on impulse pinched his nipple. He rewarded her teasing with a startled gasp and a completely different type of tightening of his body against her.

  “Oh, really?” House Mistress sounded amused and her eyes gleamed behind her mask. “Something public perhaps?”

  “Perhaps,” she mused as she scanned the list of assigned rooms. Suite one? Looking up, she asked, “Why are you giving us suite one? Isn’t that yours?”

  “Usually it is, but I think after all this bullshit, you deserve a little extra pampering. It also has a private entry. That should make you feel a little more secure until this is behind us. It will certainly make me feel better, anyway.”

  There was no arguing. Ursa tried to sputter out a refusal but House Mistress would not be swayed. Cupid’s firm squeeze against her finally stilled her protests. That was that. He stood and offered her his arm politely, which she took, curling her fingers around the thick bicep. When his wings finally drew back they seemed reluctant. His feathers lingered, tickling and caressing her bare skin before folding into their usual spot.

  Chapter 5

  Suite Number One

  They didn’t speak as they walked the short distance to the room. She had no idea what time it was. It felt like a lifetime since she’d arrived and this whole disaster had begun unfurling around her. Not only was the private entry to the foyer watched by a doorman, but the door to the suite also had a vigilant guard who required her invitation.

  The suite was even more decedent than she’d imagined. The decor was dark marble with accents of crystal and luxurious leather. As she gawked around the huge sitting room, Cupid closed and locked the door behind them. A fire crackled in the hearth and a thick fur lay before the flames, its white-and-black tiger stripes gleaming in the golden light.

  She turned to see her Cupid drawing off his mask, revealing her handsome Leo beneath the feathers and leather. His expression looked even more devastating exposed. In turn she pulled off her mask, tossing it away as she moved toward him. She grasped the front of his leather strap, hauling him down to her with all the strength she could muster.

  He moaned into her mouth as they kissed and his arms curled around her. Strong fingers raked down her body from her shoulders to her ass. When his hands cupped against her and squeezed, she answered with a whimper and arched toward him. Her breasts nuzzled into his chest for a moment before the smell distracted her from her intentions. She broke the kiss and jerked away.

  For a blink he looked baffled, mouth wet from her kisses and eyes wide. Then she pulled at him. “On your knees,” she whispered and he obeyed without hesitation, sinking to the floor before her. “Now…crawl. Crawl on your hands and knees to the bathroom like the filthy beast you are,” she growled, and he shuddered before responding with perfect obedience.

  “You smell like a whore. Are you a whore?” she asked him and transferred her grip from his harness to his hair, using it to guide him deeper into the room.

  “I’m your whore, Mistress. I’m your—ughn!” The twist of her fist in his hair shattered his words into a hoarse cry.

  “Then why don’t you smell like my pussy instead of some other woman’s?” She continued toward the bathroom. It was more like a spa really. A jetted marble tub, and a steam shower with so many spray nozzles she couldn’t even begin to count them.

&
nbsp; His answer was a whimper behind his lips and she released him. Gooseflesh prickled his dark skin as he shot a look through his thick lashes. His mouth opened in a soft pant after the quick crawl across the suite.

  She met his gaze, hoping he saw all the naughty things she planned for him. “Stay!” she ordered and then curled a finger under his chin to draw his head up. “Just like this.” She made sure he would be looking at her. “Do not lower your face from me. Understand?”

  He didn’t make a sound, only tipped his chin into her fingertip in a tiny nod as his dark eyes burned into hers.

  Confident he would stay poised, she turned away and addressed the tub. A basket held a variety of scrub brushes and sponges as well as selections of soaps, oils and lotions. She dumped mango-scented bubble bath into the rushing water and bent over to test the temperature, assuring he got an eye full of her upturned ass as she did.

  Behind her, she heard his breath catch. Instead of looking over her shoulder, she pushed her skirt down her ass. Rolling her full hips from side to side, she teased the fabric off her pale skin.

  The dirty gauze whispered to the floor where she kicked it aside. She left her panties on and turned to face him before sitting on the edge of the tub. His hungry gaze took her breath away. He was impossibly handsome and the need in him mirrored the heavy ache between her thighs. Holding his gaze, she slipped out of her bodice, unclasping the delicate hooks to free her breasts. The soiled silk tumbled onto the skirt.

  His hips rocked, squirming as he watched her hands play over her breasts. She delighted in his attention, squeezing her nipples, rolling them between her fingers. “I will just have to see to my own needs,” she told him with a soft cluck of her tongue.

  Her words made him whimper, his eyelids heavy with the sweet agony her teasing caused him. He opened his mouth to speak his protest but she gave a small shake of her head.

  “You don’t like that?” she asked, spreading her thighs to give him a view of the simple white panties covering her pussy. The wet fabric was nearly transparent against the cleft of her sex. His body jerked, shuddering as she petted lightly down from her mons to her ass, pressing the cloth along her cleft.