Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Monica Corwin

  Lucian stepped closer and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her close. Hannah wanted to lose herself in his heat. She was lucky they were in a crowded ballroom; otherwise, she might have done something incredibly inappropriate.

  Hannah smiled and watched Andrew take their picture, all the while, wondering whether Lucian's kiss would taste of champagne or something darker...more sinful.

  "You do look divine," Lucian whispered in her ear. "I still remember what your skin tastes like; might I have another taste, my lady?"

  Holy fucking shit. Hannah froze, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Was this the equivalent of Victorian dirty talk? If so, she wanted more.

  "Perfect!" Andrew exclaimed as he pocketed his camera. "I'll text you those pictures later." He winked at Hannah.

  "Thank you." She somehow managed to find her voice. Even though the photo op was over, Lucian's hand lingered on her hip, proclaiming possession to those around them.

  "Don't let me waste your time." Andrew waved as he took his leave. "Don't have too much fun." With that, Andrew wove into the crowd.

  Hannah turned to find Lucian studying her face. "What? Is my mask crooked?"

  Lucian shook his head. "Everything is fine." He cleared his throat.

  "Shall we dance again?" Hannah asked before draining the contents of her glass.

  He copied her action and took both glasses and set them aside. Once free of them, he offered his arm. "If that is your wish, my lady."

  "What's with the 'my lady' bit?" Hannah took his arm and they wandered back to the dance floor.

  Lucian wrapped his hand around her waist and drew her into his arms for the waltz that was just beginning. He kept his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Would you rather I call you something more...intimate?"

  Hannah's heart picked up a tempo far surpassing the beat of the waltz and racing dangerously close to an arrhythmia.

  Try as she might, Hannah couldn't stop the question from tumbling out. "Such as?"

  "Darling," he murmured. "My love." He paused to gauge her reaction between each term of endearment. "My pet." He leaned closer. "Mine."

  She stumbled mid-step, but he caught her with ease and whisked her around the dancefloor as though she was merely an extension of himself.

  "The mask does very little to hide the blush slowly creeping across your cheeks and down your neck." He gazed down at her chest. "Well, all of you is a delightful pink. Will you let me see if I can make you burn for me?"

  Hannah stared at him, speechless. Not that she wanted to say anything. His words lit a fire deep inside her unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life. And if he was half as talented with his tongue as he was with his words, she had no doubt Lucian would make this the most memorable night of her life.

  "Tell me, Hannah, are you willing to give yourself to me? If only for one evening of pleasure?" Lucian's proposition dangled before her like the apple before Eve.

  Only a fool would say no, and yet temptation always came at a cost. Was Lucian worth the consequences? She eyed him warily before replying.

  "I'm yours."

  As soon as her response registered, he whisked her off the dance floor, leading her by the hand. They weaved through the crowd and toward the exit. Before she could form a coherent thought, they were standing before the elevator.

  Breathless, Hannah admired how he took charge. Even though he claimed to be from another century, he'd acclimated to her time in a way that made her briefly doubt his story until she saw his confusion at the flat screen television hanging to their right in the lobby.

  When the doors opened, they stepped inside.

  The doors closed.

  Hannah glanced at Lucian, her heart racing.

  He pulled her close. With one arm around her shoulders, he cupped her face with his free hand. The twist of need in her gut warned her, but when his lips finally covered hers, all that pent up tension between them burst into a warm, vibrant explosion. Fireworks on a summer night.

  Not champagne. Lucian tasted like sin and caramel. He held her tight as he devoured her mouth. She'd never been kissed with such passion and hunger, igniting an intense lust deep in the pit of her stomach. She highly doubted anyone would ever compare to Lucian. Ever.

  Hannah wrapped her arms around him, grasping his jacket. She melted against him, determined to memorize his taste, his scent, the softness of his lips, the rough brush of his five-o-clock shadow against her cheek.

  He pulled back, and she kissed him softly again before allowing space between their lips. He turned for a moment, pressed a button, then resumed his position.

  "Where are you taking me?" she asked, still wrapped in his embrace.

  Lucian merely smiled. "Close your eyes."

  Despite the fact she didn't completely trust him, Hannah pushed the apprehension aside and complied with his request. The elevator went up, and then stopped. When they exited the carriage, her whole body tingled with awareness. She wanted him to kiss her again. Instead, he led her by the hand.

  She wanted to peek but didn't for fear of ruining the mood. They came to a stop, and Hannah felt Lucian take the small purse around her wrist.

  "Where are we?" she asked in a whisper.

  "Keep your eyes closed."

  Hannah pursed her lips together and followed where he led. When the door closed behind them, she gasped at the familiar scent of wood smoke. Her eyes flew open. He'd brought her to the Founder's Suite.

  "We can't be in here." Hannah bolted for the door, only to have Lucian snatch her wrist and pull her close.

  "This is my hotel." His sinful grin held promises and confidence that made her want to believe him.

  "It was your hotel, Lucian." She tried to pull free from his embrace, but he held her steady. "We shouldn't be here. The Governor is staying in this suite. We cannot be here." Hannah looked up at him, fearful. "I'll be fired if I'm caught in here with you."

  "Trust me." Those two simple words should have soothed the fear, but they only infuriated her.

  "Damn you!" She finally wrenched free from his grip and ran for the door.

  Lucian's hand slammed down on the door as she reached the handle. His weight held the door closed.

  Infuriated, Hannah ripped the mask off and glared up at him. "I'm not getting fired because you decided to have a little fun," she snapped. "Let me go."

  Their gazes locked as he loomed over her, using his weight to hold the door closed and pinning her against it. She refused to look away. If he didn't move, she'd kick him in the balls.

  The familiar sound of her phone receiving a text interrupted the silent standoff.

  Hannah blinked. She reached for her phone but realized she never grabbed it when she'd changed into the gown. The sound chimed again.

  Lucian's expression never changed.

  It chimed again...from his coat pocket.

  Hannah reached for it, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

  "Give. Me. The. Phone." She damn near growled the words at him.

  He released her hand but continued to cage her against the door.

  Hannah pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen. Three missed messages. All from Andrew. She unlocked the phone and gasped when she saw the messages. Three photographs, all of her and Lucian.

  The first one looked posed, like those cheesy vintage photo booths at the fair. The second one showed her surprise as Lucian leaned closer.

  The third photograph looked like Andrew had caught them engaged in a lover's embrace, her eyes closed, lips slightly parted. That would make one hell of a romance novel cover, she thought.

  When she glanced up at Lucian, his gaze remained fixed on her.

  The phone beeped again.

  "I've taken care of everything. Cherish her." The text from Andrew was clearly meant for Lucian, not her. How would he even know how to unlock the phone?

  "You took my phone." The accusation hung between them.

  Lucian nodded.

 
"Why? You couldn't unlock it without the code."

  "I have a keen sense of observation." He grinned.

  "Son of a bitch!" She pushed at him, but he refused to budge.

  "Did Andrew know you had my phone?" she asked as she glanced down at the screen again.

  "He did." Lucian shifted his weight to one side.

  "What does this mean?" She showed the text to him.

  Lucian read it, then took the phone from her hand and slipped it into his pocket.

  "Lucian, what's going on?" Hannah felt her anger dissipate into confusion and exhaustion.

  "I made a request of your friend," Lucian replied.

  "I'm scared to even ask."

  "Good."

  Hannah stared at him, her head spun, her heart ached, and the rest of her burned for Lucian. She'd never be able to understand him. But one thing was for sure, she wanted him, if only for a night.

  So she decided to take walk outside her comfort zone...and trust him.

  "Lucian," she whispered, resting her hand against his chest.

  His eyes darkened. His sharp intake of breath betrayed the effect she had on him. It made her bolder. She slid her hand up across his shoulder and tangled her fingers in his hair. With a flick of her hand, she removed the mask and tucked it in his pocket.

  She'd thought him handsome when she first saw him in the suite earlier. But his features had grown on her. The longer she spent with him, the less she could deny the attraction to him. Even with his strange way of speaking and dominant personality, he drew her in with very little effort on his part.

  "Why did you bring me here, to this room?" Hannah asked the question that nagged at the back of her mind. It amazed her that she could even form a coherent sentence, being this close to him and seeing how much he wanted her.

  "This is my room." He brought his lips to her ear and pressed a gentle kiss on the curve of it before whispering, "And you are mine."

  Hannah bit her lip to suppress a moan. That explained everything. Perfectly.

  He trailed his lips along her jaw until he captured her mouth in a claiming kiss. He possessed her with it, branded her in a way she'd never imagined. The taste and scent of him settled in her mind recalling images of the forbidden passion she'd read about in her grandmother's romance novels. This is what women fantasized about. Surrender and possession born of desperate need and intense chemistry.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and deepened the kiss.

  They pulled away from the door, stumbling toward the center of the room before the fireplace. Lucian bumped into an oversized leather armchair and fell into it.

  Hannah laughed.

  He pulled her down into his lap and kissed her thoroughly. Her legs dangled over the edge of the chair.

  She couldn't tell if the heat came from them or the fireplace. Not that it mattered. She framed his face in her hands as their tongues danced.

  Hannah barely registered his touch until she felt his hand slide beneath the velvet skirt and along the inside of her thigh. She moaned against his mouth as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric of her pantaloons.

  "Open for me," he murmured against her mouth between kisses.

  She parted her thighs.

  When his fingers brushed against her wet sex, she whimpered.

  "Ready for me so quickly?" he asked with a gentle stroke across her swollen lips. "I had hoped to draw this out."

  Hannah clutched at his jacket as he continued to caress her and pepper her face with feather-light kisses. Her moans and whimpers met his movements like a melody interwoven with a harmony.

  He slid his finger inside her heat. Her head dropped against his shoulder. She gasped as he stroked her walls. Her panting echoed in her ears as he added another finger and slowly fucked her. His thumb caressed her clit, making her arch against him.

  Lucian kissed her neck as her head fell back. His teeth scraped against her skin.

  She shattered against him. Her climax hit fast and hard. Hannah trembled in his arms as she came down from such an intense orgasm.

  "Look at me," he said, his voice low and rough with unspent lust.

  Hannah glanced up at him, her cheeks burning with afterglow and embarrassment. She'd never come so hard...or been so vocal.

  He lifted his fingers, the ones that had brought her such pleasure, to his lips and drew them into his mouth.

  Oh, fucking hell. Hannah stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

  When his eyes drifted closed, she knew it was the hottest thing she'd ever seen. This handsome man savoring the taste of her pussy after bringing her to climax.

  "Delicious." Lucian met her gaze and slid her off his lap. "I will have my mouth on that sweet little cunt before the night is over. Mark my words."

  Hannah's knees almost buckled at the thought of him kneeling before her with his head between her thighs, his tongue buried inside her.

  Lucian stood and turned her to face the fireplace. The flame had died down to glowing embers, which still gave enough light and heat. She stared into the smoldering fire as he came up behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist, and the other around her shoulder. His hand encircled her throat.

  She collapsed against him as he caressed her through the velvet.

  "Put your hands on the mantle, just here." He positioned her so she could easily lean against the cool marble framing the large hearth, but far enough away from the dying fire to keep them both from overheating.

  Hannah rested her palms against the mantle as he instructed.

  "Now, spread your legs," he whispered against her ear.

  She shivered and widened her stance. Her heart pounded. The evidence of her climax coated the insides of her thighs, soaking the pantaloons. Hannah whimpered as he slowly inched up the skirt, exposing her legs an inch at a time.

  Bunching the fabric around her waist with one hand, he drew down her shorts with the other. She stepped out of them when he tapped each ankle.

  Lucian tossed the pantaloons into the fire.

  Hannah watched helplessly as they burned.

  "I want you bare for me, always." He slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her aching pussy.

  "Mine," he growled as he stroked her.

  "Only if you ask nicely," Hannah panted the words.

  "Will you surrender to me?" he asked sweetly. "Let me take you and make you mine."

  "Beg for me," Hannah murmured.

  His touch disappeared leaving Hannah with a sudden rush of disappointment. Had she ruined the moment? As much as she enjoyed his dominant dirty talk, she wanted to tease him, show him she could dish it out as much as she could take it. He'd never had a twenty-first century woman. She wanted to make him work for it.

  His hand was soon replaced by the warm, silky touch of his cock. If she could have purred, she would have. Hannah arched back against him, letting the head of his cock brush against her slick lips over and over.

  "May I?" he begged. "I want to feel your heat. May I fuck you, Hannah? Please." He continued to tease her, even though she arched against him, wanting to take him inside of her.

  "Yes, oh, God, yes, please." Hannah bucked against him as he barely slipped the tip into her opening. He pulled back before she could take him in. "Damn it, Lucian. Fuck me, please."

  His soft chuckle made her realize he'd turned the tables on her. Lucian had made her beg.

  "You..." she started but the word ended on a moan as he thrust into her.

  He filled her to the hilt. Her grip on the mantle tightened as he withdrew and drove into her again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and fucked her. His cock stroked her walls and she tightened around him, needing more, desperate for the friction of his movements.

  His right hand covered hers where it rested on the mantle as he took her hard and fast.

  Hannah had never experienced such an intense sexual encounter. The heat and spark between them threatened to consume her. She moved against him, needing more, wanting more.

 
"Come with me, Hannah. Come with me," he whispered against her neck. His hand slid between her thighs, and he circled her clit with his fingertips.

  A climax rocketed through her, searing white heat through her body, making her grip the marble to the point of pain.

  "You're mine, Hannah." His words echoed through the haze of her orgasm.

  "Yes, Lucian. I'm yours." She mumbled her response as the euphoria of her orgasm began to subside. They felt right. They felt right together. "Forever."

  Lucian tensed as he thrust into her again.

  She felt his warmth filling her as he came. It felt dirty...and oh so right.

  They both straightened. He turned her face to the side and kissed the corner of her mouth.

  A faint glow in her periphery made her turn completely. He released her and stared at her, his eyes hazed with lust.

  The hurricane lamp on the table next to the window. That hadn't been there before. Hannah glanced around the room, taking it in.

  The furniture was different. The wallpaper vibrant and...Was that damask?

  The room began to spin. Hannah stumbled backward.

  "Lucian?" She backed away from him. "Where are we?"

  He glanced around the room and a look of shock crossed his face.

  "Hannah?" He moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. After leading her to a chair, he knelt beside her.

  "Did I...I mean, did we...?" Hannah tried desperately to not hyperventilate. But she failed miserably. The panic gripped her, throwing her into an anxiety attack.

  Lucian took her face between his hands. "Hannah, look at me."

  She did.

  "Good girl. Take a deep breath."

  She did.

  "And another."

  She did. Slowly the panic ebbed away.

  Lucian glanced over his shoulder at the fireplace. "I am not sure what happened, but..." He turned to face her again, "I promise, all will be well."

  Hannah broke into tears, and Lucian pulled her into his embrace. There she grieved. For she knew deep in her heart, his present and her past had become both of their futures.

  She'd just traveled back in time.

  The sunlight warmed her face. Hannah opened her eyes. At some point, she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep while Lucian held her. She rolled over and stretched across the luxurious linens.