by Anthology
“You are so fucking perfect,” he breathes around my aching breast as his hand finds the soaked lace of my panties. A total stranger is about to bury his fingers inside me and I want nothing more. Fuck, I am the whore he thinks I am. Jesus, I want this.
“Mmmmmm. My God, you are wet,” he growls like a beast that has been left free into the night as his fingers slide inside me. He knows just where to touch me. The fingers inside put a constant pressure on the erogenous flesh and move in a slow circling motion like a wave. His thumb finds my clit and moves opposite. Holy fuck. How is that even possible.
“God,” I pant unable to make any further words. He knows just exactly what he is doing. I begin to throb in a painful rhythm so delicious I never want it to end and yet I don’t think I can stand another second. The pulsations grow into full spasms. I am going to explode on his hand already. He withdraws his mouth exposing my wet breast to the cool night air and holds me tightly to him as I come uncontrollably in his arms.
“That’s it, my love. Come for me. I am going devour every drop of your pleasure. It’s all for me. Only me do you understand.” His voice is like low thunder before the storm. Without saying another word he lifts me up onto the edge of the fountain and drops to his knees before me. I can barely catch my breath. I run my fingers through his hair that is now wild and free. My earlier fantasy is about to come true. The anticipation of his touch consumes me. He pulls the delicate red lace panties down and pockets them.
“Give those back!” I shriek. I cannot leave something that incriminating behind.
“I’ll give them right back as soon as I get you cleaned up. But right now, I’m going to taste you.” He blows a gentle stream of air onto my swollen clit. I let my head fall back and close my eyes. There will be time to get them back later. Right now the only thing I want is to feel him.
The moment his tongue makes contact I nearly slip off the fountain, the sensation is so exquisite. It is everything I knew it would be. My back arches with pure euphoria as each sinful touch sends jolts of pure bliss through my entire being. He holds me firm with his massive arms and keeps me from falling in the fountain. I cry out in the darkness as he takes his time to relish every last bit of my desire. His moves in a rhythm over the most sensitive parts of me that sets my world on fire. Each stroke, each caress, send me closer to the abyss. My legs begin to shake and I hold tight to his thick curls. I am unable to move but my entire body is alive. The moonlight shines down on us, he looks like a Greek god in the silver light. He growls into me with my clit in his mouth sending deep vibrations that overtake my body. I have never been touched like this in my life. All my previous sexual experience was either traumatic or work related. This is all pleasure and all for me.
I can’t help but completely lose myself in the pure ecstasy of the moment. The trembling of my legs spreads to the rest of my body. A wave like I have never felt before is coming over me. My body is an inferno that even the night air cannot quench. He takes me to the edge of the abyss and for the first time in my life he wraps me in his arms and we go over the cliff together. Weightless. I am flying but I am not alone. Surrounded by his embrace in this most vulnerable moment there is a kind of intimacy I don’t know what do with. He is holding me to him as I calm from the storm.
“Lorelei,” he breathes into my hair. He turns me so that he can look me in the eyes. “God, the look on your face just now. You are the most …” I put my fingers on his lips before he can finish. The raw connection with this perfect stranger scares the hell out of me.
He leans in as if he is going to kiss me and I pull away quickly. “No. No, I have to go,” I stammer and step back. I can’t let him kiss me. Fuck, what have I done? I have to regain control. These uncharted waters are too much for me to handle. The music plays on from the party as if I haven’t just forsaken the very promise I swore my life to keep.
“I understand now.” He speaks and I pause. Like a gazelle eyeing a lion I am ready to take flight.
“Understand what?” I ask unsure where he is going with this. Fear grows. What the hell does he know?
“When I was a boy I couldn’t fathom why any sailor would leave everything and fling himself into the sea for a woman. I saw the look in old men’s faces as they recounted the legends and winked and nodded as if they would be powerless to resist. I thought them all fools. Old and weak.” He shook his head as if he was seeing a light for the first time and ran his fingers through his wild curly hair. “All the parties, the women. You must know there have been hundreds of women. I finally understand what the old man has been looking for all this time. He’s been waiting for you.”
Clearly he has ingested some of the drugs, but I don’t think it would be enough to harm him. Hopefully it will be enough to make this whole encounter seem like a dream. He is blathering on and on about sirens and legends. God, he is beautiful and funny. I watch him move around the moonlit space. It almost feels as if we are in our own private sanctuary with the rest of the world far away. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to go back. I want to stay here with him in this Nirvana and listen to him talk for hours with that voice. I want him. All of him. Why tonight? Why did I have to meet him tonight.
“I hope Mr. Hook feels the same way,” I answer trying to shift his focus from wherever this is going. “I really need to get back inside.”
He takes my hand in his. “I know,” he answers lowly like a man marching to the gallows. He brings my hand to his lips one last time, then stands staring into my eyes. “He’s going to be absolutely crazy about you.”
“If I ever get to meet him,” I tease nervously. “The party is going to be over before we know it.” I have to grip this situation firmly by the balls and turn it around in my favor. We are still wearing our masks but I have spent too much time with this beautiful man.
“He’ll never know what hit him. One look at you and he will forget all his senses. One taste and he will sell his soul to the devil. One night and there won’t be a soul left to sell.” He trails his fingers down the side of my face but stops before he reaches my mouth. “I can still taste you on my lips. While you are with him I’ll be savoring the taste of you with aged whisky. Don’t forget I still have these.” He holds up my red lace panties and laughs.
“Give those back, you cheeky bastard.”
“Not a chance. These are mine. You should be mine.” He taunts and dangles them above my head. I swipe for them and miss but he takes the opportunity to nuzzle a kiss dangerously close to my mouth. “You will be mine, but until then I’m keeping these.”
“You promised to give those back. I can’t leave without them.” Come on pretty boy. Please. I don’t want to kill you. How did I let this get so far out of control? I have to turn this situation around. Suddenly I know what I have to do. Fear shatters the intense and unexplainable connection between us..
“Come away with me.” He pulls me back to him. “You don’t have to go back in there. Leave that life. Come with me and I will give you the world.” He steps back with each word gently pulling me with him until he bumps into the fountain and stops.
“You have no idea what you are asking. You don’t even know me,” I counter. “I’m a whore, hired to be here for someone else.”
“I know that no one in the history of the world has ever looked as stunning as you do tonight. I want to know all of you. I want to take you to your limits and explore the seductive power of your dreams,” he confesses
“And what if with all this effort you don’t like what you find? What if underneath all the satin and glitz I’m really a monster,” I challenge leaning forward pinning him against the fountain.
“My darling, you have no idea who I am.” He turns his demur voice suddenly low and rumbling like water rushing from the release of a dam, full of power. He flips us so that I am pinned against the smooth granite by the weight and heat of his impeccable body. “I don’t fear anyone or anything, save losing you.” He leans in and his lips brush my neck as he conti
nues. “Your smile makes me happier than any man has the right to be. Never in all the wars I have engaged, in all the lives I have crushed, in all the beauty I have held in my hand did I dream of meeting someone as utterly and completely perfect as you.”
I stop him by putting my finger on his lips. “Don’t say another word,” I instruct. “You say want to know me but you have no fucking idea what you are asking. Now it’s my turn to show you just exactly what you are getting yourself into.” I spin us around again, hard this time so that I am facing him and his back is against the fountain once again. He doesn’t resist. I can tell by the amused look on his face he doesn’t take me seriously. I remove his deep red tie and wrap my arms around him to bind his hands behind his back.
“What the hell?” he asks with a playful smile. “Siren Lorelei, are you tying me up?” An excited grin spreads over his face and his eyes flash like a child seeing his presents for the first time on Christmas morning.
“Mr. X, I’m going to destroy you.” I mean every word but he just smiles as if I am playing some seductive game. I have the devil tied up and there is no going back. I move slowly with the music and unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. The aroma of his cologne escapes the linen confines. I am fully rolling now and the scent is so intriguing it radiates off his skin like mist off the river. I want to drink him in. Nothing I have ever seen is this inviting. I rake my nails down his granite chest and abs. He breathes in sharply in a mix of pain and pleasure and a fine sheen of sweat appears on his chest and forehead despite the cool night air.
“Look what you made of me,” I hiss gently against his skin, careful not to let my lips touch. “I’m going to make you suffer.”
My index fingers slip under the edge of the waistband of his black trousers. I slide them out to the sides of his hips and back to the center. I can’t help but lick my lips as I start to undo the button.
“Fuck, you look hot as hell.” He groans with need. The rise and fall of his sculpted chest quickens.
I am going to make him pay for the hell he has put me in. This is supposed to be my night to shine. I was not supposed to meet this beautiful man. He’s the fucking siren. But I won’t be distracted anymore. Mr. Hook was supposed to be my first but X will do. The button falls away and I pull the zipper like a lead weight slowly revealing navy blue silk boxers. Of fucking course. The cologne he has sprayed here like a final fucking trap tries to capture all my senses. I want to give in. My gentle hands find his cock and set it free. Holy Jesus that could wreck a woman. All the parts of me that seek pain with the pleasure are awakened. My mind flashes like a strobe of dreams and reality. I am bound to the four poster bed in my suite and he has a crop. He is about to punish me in the most delicious ways. He’s going to ruin me and I can’t fucking wait. I take him with both hands and begin to move with the music that floats through the trees into our secret enclave.
I made myself a promise many years ago, that no man will ever get me to break. This masterful illusionist almost made me forget that. But no more. I am the temptress. I am in control. You will never see me coming. I am quiet like a vapor that slips into every part of your life and mind. I will destroy you from the inside out.
He moans and I look up into those breathtaking emerald eyes. I know better. They speak directly to my soul. I can’t do this. My inner demons wage a war I can’t afford to lose. He is everything I have dreamed of. Everything the little girl of my memories dared to imagine. It will only take a moment. The demons remind me. This will be quick. The pleasure will outdo the pain. Do it. Take him in.
I bend closer so that my ruby red lips hover just over the throbbing tip. His body tenses with anticipation. My heart and body race with excitement. This is it. I open my mouth and just as I start to make contact.
Bong Gong Dong Bong. The musical chimes of Big Ben start to sound. It’s eleven o’clock! I only have one hour left. I look up panicked at the semi naked god before me. Suddenly all the magic and the mystery of the moment vanish. The loud repetition of the clock breaks through the fog of the drugs and I stand suddenly knocking him over the ledge into the water. His pants are around his legs and his hands are bound behind his back. He flaps around disoriented as the drug begins to flow through his system. He will live but I wonder if he will even remember me.
“Farewell, my love,” I bid him in his distress. Thankfully the water is not that deep. I leave him, grab my shoes and make a mad dash for the observatory. I feel the angels in heaven scowling down at me for what I have done to their hero. Can it bitches. That’s nothing compared to what I am about to do to Mr. Hook. I stop at the edge of the patio and put my shoes back on and try to smooth my hair. Mercifully I still have my tiny wrist clutch. I need to walk casually to the restroom and tidy myself up.
It is not until I am safely behind the mahogany doors that I realize I didn’t get my panties back. Fuck! Silently I pray that they fell into the water with him removing any evidence of my presence. I look at the disheveled mess in the mirror. You do not look like a beautiful temptress. You look like a harlot that has been discarded. I have to salvage something out of this. I quickly fashion my hair into a messy updo. Apply a bit of powder and reapply the pheromone spray. There at the bottom of my small clutch I see it. The lip rouge. I know that it needs to be reapplied but I have never put it on more than once at a time. I don’t know if I will be able to handle the effects. My time will be limited at best. There is one hour until my ride arrives and the effects of the drugs will overtake. I have to move quickly.
I hold the rouge in my hand and take a deep breath. All or nothing. A successful suicide mission is better than failure I decide and apply the crimson stain before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. Like a junkie to their fix I feel the familiar rush at the first contact with my lips. I apply enough to bring my blood red lips to full effect. The clock has started ticking. This is going to take all the self-control and focus that I have inside. I have to overcome the drug long enough to find my mark. With one final glance in the mirror I turn and open the door. Here goes nothing or everything, only time will tell.
The music seems louder than before. It takes on a shape and personality of its own. Each note can be seen, felt, touched. Keep a hold of yourself, I scold my brain that is beginning to dance inside my skull. I move through the conservatory like a forest of strange figures. All their masks seem distorted. The colors run together. Everyone is dancing, moving, swaying to a tune that carries them into the air. It is a stunning parade of the elegant and grotesque. The masquerade ball is a fervor of lust and risk. People have always been fascinated by the macabre. This is a variable circus of seduction.
A gentleman with salt and pepper hair asks me to dance. He is much too short to be Mr. Hook but I accept. I look out of place walking aimlessly around the dance floor. We spin around the arena to music much too loud for me to understand what he is saying. The train of my crimson gown twirls with my every movement.
The entire room is draped in decadence. They move with us and around us, everyone masked in the mystery of the night. The scene is truly magical. White clad statues of gods and goddesses around the room seem to come alive and dance. Are they costumed figures or is my mind already playing tricks. Contortionists in snakeskin costumes bend and twist in graceful movements that defy human ability.
This mysterious Garden of Eden feels as though it will swallow me whole. A man in a black suit with a silver mask and jet black hair cuts in and takes my hand. He tall enough to be the man I seek but his hair and features are much too dark. His scent is much more masculine than my previous dance partner. He holds me firmly and we move to his lead. He is a powerful force but lacks the grace and fineness of X. Just the thought of him sends tingles all over my hypersensitive body. A grand stilt walker in full coattails and top hat walks by wearing a plague doctor mask. His ominous presence reminds me of the task at hand. I search the room. I know Mr. Hook is here I can feel him. There will be no place to hide.
A gentleman in
a deep red cloak and full face black mask cuts in next. His black leather gloved hands touch my silk clad ones and I am transported back in time to a secret masquerade ball in the canals of Paris. I know that my mind is playing tricks, but the fantasy is so very real. We are a contrast of light and dark, goodness and evil. It is a final waltz from which there is no escape. Life clinging to death as we move about the room. Candelabras are everywhere. Their lights flicker and move with the music. We are surrounded and all alone at the same time. I am dancing with death, for tonight I become his mistress. His steps are light but unforgiving, I follow his lead matching step for step in a dizzying pace. There is no turning back my heart beats so wildly I fear it will leave my chest.
Round and round we go until a familiar voice behind me calls out to stop us.
“Excuse me. May I cut in.” His voice sounds deeper, like aged whiskey. I freeze instantly too frightened to take another step. X must have made it out of the fountain. Shit! I am both excited and scared to death to face him. Slowly, I spin around, my stomach in my heaving chest, but instead of X before me is the six-foot-two salt and pepper billionaire I have been searching for all night. He is dressed in an over the top black and gold brocade and striped suit with a gold mask adorned with black filigree. Every detail of his ensemble appears to be custom Alexander Amosu. The gold stitching I know is real as is every diamond. The prize I have been waiting for at last stands before me.
I smile demurely and take his outstretched hand. The party is finally beginning. He raises my hand and kisses it. I can’t help but picture X and remember the way his touch affected my entire body. I briefly wonder if any man will ever make me feel like that again.
“I’ve been watching you,” he confesses. “I saw you leave with my young protégé earlier and I must admit I was surprised to see you come back. If I had you in my arms I would never let you go.”
He pulls me to him and we begin to dance. I follow his lead and try to project the same excitement that I had earlier, though that part of me it seems will only ever belong to X. I channel the drugs and try to relive the feeling. We move around the room and the macabre patrons back up and give us room. I am dancing with the king.
