Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Monica Corwin

  He chuckled and a thrill laced through her at the sound. “As the old adage goes, appearances can be deceiving.”

  “So, Master Hunter”—Anya suppressed an unexpected shiver of delight as the name left her lips—“are you from around here?”

  He offered her his arm, guiding her a few paces around the edge of the massive ballroom before answering. “Aye. I live here still, though I do enjoy travelin’ when the desire overcomes me.”

  Anya blinked a few times, trying to rein in her thoughts. Everything about him turned her on, and now that he was touching her, it became worse. The brogue that tempered his voice, the scent of some unknown cologne that emanated from him, the confidence in his demeanor, even the very words he said, had her wishing he’d suggest a visit to his place. Her vivid imagination was undressing him and begging him to do things to her. Strange things. Things Anya had never believed she would ask anyone to do. She blamed it all on her BDSM comment and his desire to be called Master.

  “Lady Peacock?” Her sexy self-proclaimed escort paused, his vivid blue eyes gazing at her with open curiosity.

  She flushed, praying he wasn’t a touch psychic. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  “I asked of yer own home.”

  “Oh, I’m an American.” Anya bit her lip, uncertain of what else to say. People in the paranormal community certainly knew of her and her sister. She often performed scrying services, and Amber was naturally gifted at protection talismans and cleansing rituals. People—and sometimes creatures in human form—came to them all the time to pay for these services. “I live in a big city, which irritates me, with my sister…”

  She let the sentence trail off. Had she said too much about herself? Anya knew masquerades were supposed to be the epitome of mystery and allure. People with masked faces, mingling and dancing, under the yearly truce of the Hallowed Eve.

  The sensation of Master Hunter’s gloved fingers, as he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, startled her back into reality. He studied her face, his lips pressed together in a firm line that suggested disapproval. “Does she irritate you too?”

  “Huh? My sister? No. We get along fine.” Anya forced a smile up at him, hoping to diffuse the low mood she sensed she created. “I simply don’t care for living in the middle of a large city. It feels…restricting.” She swallowed and tried not to wiggle at her choice of words. That’s what her dress was doing to her breasts right now. How being in the middle of this crowd made her feel. “What of you, Master Hunter? Do you have family?” she hurried on, hoping he didn’t notice where her ridiculous thoughts took her.

  She watched as his shoulders relaxed. “My family doesn’t communicate often.” He paused, tilting his head to listen to the music as it changed pace from a slow, soft undertone, to a steady waltz that dominated the room. “Do ya ken how to dance?”

  Genuine relief flooded through Anya. Maybe her dancing would cover her lack of conversation skills. “I do,” she said. “I used to take classes.”

  Master Hunter guided her onto the floor. Comfort enveloped her as he gripped her waist. The way his hand settled on her as if he knew her, the way his body moved expertly across the ballroom. He led like a natural and far better than any partner Anya had ever danced with before. When the song came to an end, disappointment flooded her. Though they’d danced in silence, it was as if they’d still conversed. His eyes never left her, never wandered, and neither had his hands. He’d been the perfect gentleman and perfectly focused on only her.

  “You’re a wonderful dancer!” She smiled up at him, hoping she hadn’t let him down with her own skills. Her heart thudded in her chest as she hoped he didn’t decide she was no longer worthy of his attention.

  He returned the smile, his eyes seeming to sparkle within the mask. “Och, I remember a time when a man’s entire reputation hinged on his ability to dance.”

  Anya laughed, thinking of the boys she’d danced with in class. “I believe many men would be considered of little worth indeed if that were the case now.”

  “Too true, Lady Peacock.” Master Hunter slid a finger down her cheek, pausing to rest it on her bottom lip. The material of his glove rasped against her lip, causing an ache to stir deep within. “Ya have such a passion locked inside of ya. I feel it beggin’ to be let out.”

  “I—” Her voice stuttered, threatened to break. A flush traveled through her at his words. Her cheeks burned, as if an open flame flicked across them.

  What is he doing to me? Why do I feel so mesmerized by him?

  Anya wanted him so badly, more than she had ever desired anyone in her life. She wasn’t the kind to just throw herself at men. For the love of the Goddess, she only had sex with two people before. Both had been steady boyfriends. Both had been completely human.

  Master Hunter dropped his head lower, his lips resting by her ear. The heat of his breath tickled her neck, and she shivered in delight with the close contact. The ache, deep inside her, flared into a throb of need. A need so intense she contemplated what it would be like to succumb to it.

  “Ya want me t’ break ya, don’t ya? Ya want me t’ show ya that passion. To teach ya how, not only experience it, but t’ get lost in it as well.” The tone of his voice held intense promise and Anya nearly moaned from the visions his words inspired.

  But was he Mr. Right? Or Mr. Right Now? Could she give him this night, if he wasn’t her happily ever after? She debated so long, yet unwavering patience met her gaze while she searched his face.

  Chapter Four

  “Yes,” Anya whispered. She stared up at him, fright and need clouding her eyes.

  This woman called to Hunter in a way he’d never experienced before. The sheer desire he felt for her would have worried him had he not known she was his mate. Och, the things he planned to do to her…with her. He could only hope it enticed her as well.

  “I want to hear ya say it,” Master Hunter murmured. He needed to be absolutely sure he crossed no lines with this lady. Her respect mattered as much as his desire. Yes, he could claim her and force her into accepting it, just as a stallion dominated a mare, but her willingness made her submission all the sweeter when she finally gave it.

  Anya took a deep, shaky breath. “I want you to show me true passion, please.”

  “Good girl.” He smiled and watched as the praise worked like magic on her. Her lips parted and straight desire flooded her eyes. He held no doubt that the desire flooded other parts as well. “Dance with me, beautiful.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to take a break? Perhaps dance with someone else? There’s so many more women here…” she said, drawing herself back into her mental shell again.

  “I donnae care about these other women ye claim are here.” Hunter slid his thumb across her bottom lip. “Ken this, m’lady, I see only you. Aye?”

  Wordlessly, she nodded, staring up at him as if he’d just performed the greatest magic trick she’d ever seen. The awe that emanated from her almost angered him, because it meant she’d been treated as less than worthy somewhere in her life. It didn’t matter. After tonight, she’d never question her worth again. He’d make it his life’s mission to shower her with everything she ever needed, for as long as it took, as often as she needed it, so she’d know she meant the universe to him.

  Once again, he guided her, though his grip turned tighter, possessive due to his thoughts. The fact the band played another waltz gave him no small measure of relief. Though Hunter wanted desperately to bed her—his very instincts screamed at him, demanding it—he didn’t want her thinking his sole purpose revolved around that. If she brushed against his throbbing cock during their dancing, he wasn’t sure he could convince her he didn’t flatter her with less than honorable intentions. He wasn’t quite ready to tell her the truth yet either, though. Hunter wanted her to get to know him, wanted the chance to woo her, before he dropped it on her that she was his destined mate for eternity.

  Their bodies moved across the floor with a ki
nd of grace that he’d never achieved with another dance partner. Already, their bodies worked in sync, complimenting and completing each other. When they did finally come together, he knew it would be a moment so glorious, even the gods would pause to admire them.

  As the song ended, he stared down into her beautiful face and reveled for a moment. A flush colored her cheeks, and her shortness of breath worried him a little. She needed rest and a breath of fresh air. As they left the dance floor, he studied how her blush deepened when Anya noticed several people giving them appreciative glances. Her timid nature thrilled and enticed him to no end. Watching her come out of her shell and blossom for him would be a gift.

  “Will yer sister panic and search for ya if’n ya aren’t in ready sight?”

  Anya shook her head. “She would think I went out to catch a breath of fresh air. Or to escape all the people. She knows I’m not exactly a people person, especially in large crowds like this.”

  Her words were music to his ears. He nodded, making his pleasure apparent by the gentle kiss he pressed to her forehead. “Good. It wouldn’t do for her to walk in on us.”

  She blinked up at him, uncertainty in her gaze. “Where are we going?”

  “Just out on a balcony for some fresh air.” Hunter’s voice came out playful, yet held a seductive undertone.

  True to his word, within moments he turned down a corridor, then produced a key that allowed them into a secluded room. Without hesitating, Hunter led her through double glass doors onto a balcony. The night air was cool, refreshing, and smelled cleaner, and he watched in rapt fascination as Anya inhaled deeply, pleasure tempering her features.

  “The night air pleases ya?” he asked, nearly flinching at the stupidity of the question.

  She grinned up him, apparently unfazed. “I’m enjoying the lack of fumes cities seemed to specialize in.”

  Master Hunter pulled a heavy curtain across the doorway, concealing them from view, before shutting the balcony doors. Even though he’d relocked the door behind him, he knew there were plenty in the crowd who had means other than keys to open doors if they wanted to. The music continued to filter through the windows from the ballroom next door, and the world suddenly seemed much smaller, and intimate. They were only on the second floor, with the grounds stretched out just on the other side of the rail, but the night seemed to encase them. He’d set the mood, but would she be interested? Without her being the same species as him, he wasn’t sure if she felt the same pull as he.

  “What are you?” Her voice held wonder and not the fear he’d come to expect with that question. Then again, he had a sneaking suspicion Anya had seen just about every supernatural denizen known to mankind, and even some that weren’t. It pleased him, though, that she still couldn’t place what he was. It also terrified him that once he outed himself, she’d want nothing more to do with him.

  He approached slowly, a hand held out as he tried to soothe the fear from her. “I am naught that would ever harm ya. On that, Lady Peacock, ya have my word. Trust me, and I shall show ya the pleasure ya desire so greatly.”

  A myriad of emotions flashed across her face, and he could only name about half of them. Desire, fear, certainty, uncertainty. Finally, confusion settled on her like a weight, and he knew he needed to do something quick to dispel it before it tore her from his arms. Unsure if he made the right decision, he cupped her cheek with his hand. With a sigh, Anya relaxed into the touch. If only she knew how much that one gesture helped still his own fears.

  “Why do I feel so safe with you?” Her voice barely broke above a whisper, but he heard it clearly.

  Without a word, he leaned in and kissed her. His lips teased her own at first, taunting her, drawing her to him. She leaned forward, seeking more pressure, and tentatively returned with her own passion. It dwelt within her, like an ember waiting to be discovered and stoked to life, and its presence gave him hope. When he broke the kiss, she stared at him as she pressed delicate fingertips to her swollen lips, an intoxicated, dreamy look in her eyes.

  “Because yer mine. I want ya so desperately, but I donnae wish to be scarin’ ya off. If ya go through with this, ya will belong to me forever. Mine, in e’ery way, as I will be yers.” He paused, staring down at her and waited for her rejection. “Do ya understand?”

  She swallowed before lifting her chin, her eyes meeting his. “Master H—”

  He cut her off, kissing her firmly this time. His body crowded against her until the stone of the balcony railing pressed against the small of her back. His hands slid down each of her arms, grasped a wrist in each, and stretched her arms out to either side until her palms were pinned against the stone as well. Hunter became very aware that her body was now completely flush against his, and he knew she could feel the firm press of his hardening cock, the hard muscle of his chest, the heat emanating from his body, the desire that nearly drove him senseless.

  “I like it when ya call me that,” he whispered against her neck. “Just call me Master from now on.”

  When his tongue feathered across her pulse, Anya gasped. Her pleasure and her fear of her own pleasure hit him like a brick wall. He’d know she could scry, but no one ever said anything about her being such a strong empath. Hunter hadn’t expected her emotions to pounce him so hard, and he doubted she’d done it on purpose.

  “Please, I can’t do this.” She leaned backward, and he became painfully aware that in doing so, she arched against him in an inviting way that clashed with her words. “I’m not this kind of girl. I’m sorry.”

  Hunter released her wrists, cupping her face instead. His smile was genuine as he brought her forward for a gentle kiss. What she needed right now was reassurance, not coercion. “I ken ya aren’t. Ye can do this, but only if’n ya realize this isnae a one night stand.”

  Anya stared up at him and her eyes reminded him of a stormy sea. If the emotions she threw out were any indication, that’s exactly how she felt right now. “Then what is it?”

  “A male lookin’ to be claimin’ the mate that is rightfully his. I ask nothing of ya that hasn’t been asked of countless men and women since the dawn of time.” Hunter held her gaze, silently begging her to believe. “Let me have ya, and I promise ya willna be cast aside. This is what ya’ve been looking for, aye?”

  He watched as she thought about it, processing his words. Her emotions grew calmer with each second he gave her to think. Each moment he gave her that didn’t involve him being a royal jack ass and pushing her to succumb to him. As her body softened against him, he let out a silent thanks to the gods that he’d been gifted with the patience of his species.

  “Love and devotion as eternal and deep as the spiritual universe,” she finally murmured, as if afraid saying it out loud made the idea silly somehow.

  Master drew her against him, his lips raining kisses from her collar bone to the edge of her jaw. “Aye,” he whispered against her skin. “I will give ya that. All I ask is that I be yer mate, master, and only lover. Take me inside of ya, and I’ll give ya everything that is me. Give me everything that ye are, and I will eternally guard ya.”

  The soft curves of her body under her clothing made him want to rip her clothes off, to trace the silky skin of her breasts and hips with his bare fingers. When he stopped his kisses, waiting for her decision, she looked as if she were nearly ready to scream in agony at the lack of contact. He could still feel her hesitation at his words though.

  “I have no idea what you are. You make it sound like we will be a permanent couple if I have sex with you....and trust me, I want to. But what if you are some horrific demon that I can’t deal with being bound to? I have to know what I’m getting into if I say yes.” She stared at him, and he could feel her shutting down, closing off, and tucking herself back in her little mental box.

  Though he knew he’d have to tell her eventually, sickness welled up within him at even the thought. With it came the familiar cold comfort of the monster he truly was. If she’d been any other woman asking
this, he’d walk away right now, but she was his mate…and in a few moments, she’d probably damn him and leave him alone to die.

  Chapter Five

  Master Hunter shook his head, his eyes casting iridescent paths. It reminded Anya of when she was young and played with sparklers. She and her sister would frantically wave the wands of spraying sparks about, attempting to spell their whole names before the afterglow disappeared into the night.

  “I’m a painted monster, Lady Peacock. Just like the rest of us here tonight. I’m a masked beast who parades about in human clothing, hunting.” He pulled away and Anya almost shivered as the night immediately leeched away the warmth of his body from her. “If I showed you my true form, would you run from me? Would you push away and return to the ballroom? Would you, with all your magic, cast a curse on me that I dared kiss you?”

  Anya didn’t blame him for his reluctance to show her. She understood completely. Once, when she was fifteen and naïve, she’d shown her boyfriend her ability to scry. He did what any human would do; he laughed at her “parlor trick.” Then, when she told him something very private about himself in an attempt to prove the truth of her abilities. He ran away screaming. She’d moved, not long after that. She’d also learned a very valuable lesson; never reveal yourself.

  Being in a mansion full of paranormal creatures didn’t change things much. Each had their paranoia, their racial loyalties, their own hidden identities and agendas. The only reason the Midnight Masquerade existed was because it harbored everyone on this sacred night as a place of complete neutrality. Violating that ended in public execution at the event. Fortunately, Anya had never witnessed one during any of the times she’d attended. She’d heard rumors it’d only taken three executions before everyone got it through their heads and the Masquerade became the wonderful event it is now.