Masquerade

by Cara Lockwood

  “You are only pretending to be angry. You are only pretending that you can resist me,” he whispered in her ear. His hand slipped from her breast, skimmed down her stomach and cupped her from the front, possessive. He teased her with the soft pad of his finger, caressing her, making her swell with want. Her body responded instantly, as if she’d been made for him. She arched herself, leaning into his touch.

  A squeal of pleasure escaped her.

  “I offered you one night, but you want more. Isn’t that so?”

  “No. I—I don’t,” she lied. “I don’t care about you.”

  “Another lie. I thought we agreed not to lie to one another. Not to wear masks.” Durand laughed, a growl in his belly. “You very obviously care.” He tightened his grip around her waist. “You want me, ma chère. You want this.” His caress drove her wild with need. When she could stand it no more, she turned in his arms and kissed him, openmouthed and fierce, her anger, her desire, her jealousy, all a powerful mixture that fueled her passion, driving her to devour him. His hands slipped into her open robe, against her bare back, and he pulled her close against him, so that she could feel his growing need. His hands drifted down, cupping her bare bottom as she wound her hands around the back of his neck. He tasted like everything she’d ever wanted, everything she’d ever needed, this man who could light a spark in her, a spark that threatened to burn her to ash. “You need me.”

  “I don’t need anyone,” she managed.

  “Another lie.”

  Durand maneuvered her to the couch and whirled her around once more. He took the belt of her robe and freed it, and then covered her eyes, tying it tightly behind her head.

  “What are...”

  “Trust me,” he murmured in her ear, a promise. A threat? She shivered with anticipation as she realized she could see nothing, that she was completely in Durand’s power. Exactly where she wanted to be. He positioned her so that her hands were splayed across the back of the couch, her legs shoulder-width apart. Her breathing grew shallow as she waited, listened, felt helpless and vulnerable. Durand was as a quiet as a panther, though she could sense him in the room, prowling, his eyes on her bare body, her exposed skin. He pinched her left nipple, softly, making her shriek in surprise.

  “What are you doing, Durand?” she cried, shocked.

  “You like throwing fits? Playing games? Then we will play a game,” he told her, this time caressing her right cheek. She whirled but could see nothing, hear nothing. She moved one hand, and his came down on hers, steading her against the couch. “Stay where you are, Asha.” His voice was a command, a delicious command. Normally she hated to be bossed around, but somehow...letting Durand do it was sexy. Beyond sexy. White-hot. Her lips parted as she anticipated where he might touch her next. Her legs shook in anticipation. Being deprived of sight, she had no idea what he planned to do, and it made her slick with want.

  She heard his zipper then, and thought she heard his belt hit the ground, probably with his pants, as well. Was he going to take her like this? She couldn’t see. Couldn’t do anything. Her palms flat as she faced the back of the couch, waiting.

  His palm hit her bare bottom, a playful slap, and she squealed in shock. He’d...spanked her. Actually...spanked her. No one had ever dared. No one but Durand. He’d positioned her to do just this: hands splayed on the back of the couch, backside vulnerable. She twisted a little.

  “Durand!” she cried in protest.

  “Stay where you are,” he demanded, righting her once more. And he gave the other cheek a slap. Playful. Not hard. Enough to let her know he was in control, enough to send white-hot desire through her veins, to set off every nerve ending in her body. “You have been a bad girl, Asha. Playing these games. Lying to me.”

  “I—I did not lie,” she protested, in the direction of his voice, behind her.

  “You said you were not jealous of Madelyn, no? That is a lie.” His breath was on her neck, and she shivered, feeling him so close behind her that his bare knee touched the back of her leg. “Admit it.”

  “I...” Was she going to tell this man that she was jealous? That she was jealous of Madelyn’s affections, that she was jealous that she was his trusted assistant? It was all so stupid. “I’m not jealous.”

  He flicked her hip with his fingernail, a small sting. “You lie.” He spanked her once more, harder this time, and she gave a little yelp. Then he rubbed her bare bottom with his hand, soothing the contact, as he kissed her neck. It was a possessive kiss. He grabbed the back of her blindfold, the lose tails of her robe’s belt, moving her face upwards. Her heart raced.

  “Tell me the truth. Are you jealous?”

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  “Because you want me.” He clutched at the tie of her blindfold.

  “Yes,” she managed, heart thumping hard in her chest. She couldn’t see his face, the robe’s thick belt stopping all but the faintest of light around the edges, and she wondered how he’d taken her admission.

  “And you need me,” he said, his voice deep and demanding. She could feel his thick, hard cock against her lower back. A promise of what was to come.

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded like a mere croak, a whispered admission of the truth. She did need him.

  “Good,” he murmured, moving against her back. “Because I need you, too. So very much.” And then, he entered her from behind, filling her up, shocking her with the hard movement that sent her legs apart, made her whole body open for him. He sent her against the back of the couch, each of his thrusts pushing her deep into the rich upholstery, as he took her again and again, harder and deeper. She cried out, unable to stop herself, as he reached around to her front and found her swollen clit, and she nearly burst into a thousand glimmering pieces. She climaxed and so did he, two animals unable to help themselves, as they let loose two distinct cries of ecstasy.

  She couldn’t help but think they were made for each other, that no two people had ever been so suited for one another, so perfectly.

  Instantly, Durand collapsed against her, and he removed her blindfold. He laid a dozen tender kisses on her neck, the disciplinarian gone, and in its place, a man who craved a gentle touch. He slipped off the condom he’d worn and tossed it into a nearby gilded trash can. Then he wrapped her in his arms, gently, and she went, feeling as if a mutual apology spanned between them, that the fight, such as it was, was over.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, holding her tightly as the two walked around the edge of the couch and sank into it.

  “No,” she said, remembering the slap of his hand against her backside. “Though no one ever dared to spank me before,” she murmured into his bare chest.

  “Perhaps that is why you are so spoiled,” he teased.

  “I’m not spoiled,” Asha cried.

  “Only the very spoiled would say that,” he whispered into her hair, as he pulled her tighter to him. She laughed, and buried her face into his chest, into his warmth. “I did not hurt you, did I?”

  “No,” she said.

  “I only want to show you...the many ways sex can be,” he said. “You have had such inept lovers. Such fools. There’s so much you have missed.”

  “And you will be my teacher?”

  Durand kissed her head. “If you let me, ma chère. You hold all the power.”

  “I do?”

  “Women always do.” He ran a hand gently through her hair. “You will be my undoing.” His voice sounded almost pained.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are like no other woman on earth,” he said. “Because you have crawled under my skin, made a home there.”

  Asha flattened her palm against his chest, feeling scared....and vindicated all at once. So she wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between them, the white-hot chemistry. He felt it, too.

  “So, I am not just an exotique?”

 
“No.” His arm tightened. “You are much more than that. L’appétit vient en mangeant.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Appetite comes with eating. It’s a French saying about obsession. The more you have, the more you want.”

  “You’re obsessed with me?” Asha laughed a little, delighted. “Does that mean you won’t let me out of your sight?” Asha teased, pressing her cheek against his chest. She felt a warmth in her belly grow outward, and realized it was her own feelings for him growing.

  “Maybe,” Durand admitted. “I am obsessed with you, and you are obsessed with membership, is this not so?”

  For Asha, their relationship was anything but transactional, and she knew that now, knew it the moment he’d taken her into his bed.

  “The membership isn’t what I’m after,” she murmured.

  Durand shifted, sitting up a bit, and Asha lifted her head from his chest. “No?” Durand raised one eyebrow in surprise. She met his blue gaze.

  “No. I want something...more.”

  Durand searched her eyes for a moment, and she expected him to respond in kind. But instead, he pulled her down for a kiss. His lips met hers, possessive and hungry. Yet part of her, a small part, felt like she’d revealed too much. That she’d tipped her hand. She pulled back from the kiss.

  “And what about you?” she asked him, feeling the oily coating of insecurity line her stomach. Did he want her, too? Or was this a game to him? “What do you want?”

  He searched her eyes for a minute. “Before you came into my life, I thought I knew. But now...” He trailed off, frowned. “I promised myself I would never fall in love.”

  “Why not?” Asha felt pressure in her chest, as if someone had hold of her heart and was giving it a squeeze.

  “It is my image, no? The Frenchman who swore off love. But love isn’t very practical. Love can be dangerous. Look at what happened to my mother...to my father... I cannot ignore that.”

  “But you’re not your father.”

  “Don’t we all become our parents? At some point or another?”

  Asha rested her chin on his chest. “You fear you can’t be faithful to a woman? Is that it?”

  “I have never tried to be faithful to a woman,” Durand admitted, voice seeming a bit distant. “So I do not know.”

  Asha felt a small sliver of hurt at his words. Would he not even want to try for her sake? It was the one thing she demanded from a man, any man: loyalty.

  “I cannot be with a man if he won’t be faithful to me.” After all, she’d flown halfway across the globe to confront Connor, and they’d not even slept together yet. “It’s my one absolutely unbreakable rule.”

  “Ah? So you do follow at least one rule. I thought you just liked to break them.”

  He was being evasive, but what did she expect? Asha felt her chest tighten even more, but she told herself she was being foolish. Silly. A schoolgirl. What did she care if Durand loved her? Loved anyone? After such a short time with this man, she was thinking they could have a future? And what future would that be, she wondered? A man who prided himself on never committing to anyone, whose assistant even told her how often he had trysts with many women. Many exotiques. Asha knew exactly the kind of man Durand was, one that never gave his heart to anyone. Hadn’t she known that long before she’d let him into her bed? She’d been playing with fire the whole time, so why now, when he admitted he never planned to love another, should she be disappointed?

  She was no fool.

  Except in that moment, Asha realized, she was already falling for him. Half in love with him already. And that made her a fool.

  “I believe love only ends in loss,” he said, even as he stroked her hair.

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to,” she managed.

  “Why are you such an advocate for love?”

  “Why are you so against it?” Asha countered. “It seems to me that maybe you’re fighting a little too hard. The playboy bachelor protests a little too much.”

  “You think I am bluffing?”

  “You certainly seem intent on letting everyone know just how much you hate love. Perhaps you’re trying to challenge someone to convince you otherwise.”

  Durand clucked his tongue. “And you are that woman?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I only know that I’m not the only one pretending to be something I’m not.”

  Now Durand laughed out loud, a big belly laugh.

  “It sounds to me like you’re falling in love with me. Are you falling in love with me?” he asked. In that moment, Asha could show her hand. She could be honest with him. Yet something in her held back the truth. She wouldn’t give him the power of knowing he had control over her. She was used to dealing with powerful men. Her father for one, and she knew that giving them the upper hand never ended well. She’d have to keep him guessing if she ever wanted to hope to maintain power in the relationship. Because, in every relationship, there was always a dominant and a submissive. One who held the power, and one who obeyed. That had always been her experience.

  “Of course not,” Asha lied and then covered it with a brash laugh. Because deep in her heart she knew, she was falling for this man. Falling hard. Or was this just what happened to every woman who was truly pleasured in bed by a man? Maybe all she really wanted was his touch, the touch that felt so reverential, as if he worshipped her body from head to toe. Maybe it was that that she was falling in love with and not the man. After all, what did she really know about him? Besides, in the end, didn’t all men eventually disappoint her? Didn’t they all lose their ability to please?

  Durand went quiet then.

  “Falling in love with you would be foolish,” she added. He was the man who’d sworn off love, after all, even if part of her thought it was a little bit bluster. Who could cut out love from their life? No one Asha knew.

  “You think so?” he demanded, pulling away from her, and studying her eyes. “But what if I am already falling in love with you?”

  Asha told herself Durand’s question was just a ploy, just a way to manipulate her or keep her off balance. And yet, as she stared at his blue eyes, so earnest, so honest, she found it hard to believe he wasn’t telling the truth. And if that was the truth of his feelings, the mere idea made her giddy. She wanted this. She wanted him to be in love with her, the way she’d wanted no man to love her before. And she realized it was all because she had feelings for him. Perhaps she was already in love with him.

  This would not do. How could she love a man who’d sworn never to love? If anything, her history had taught her that men couldn’t be changed. Not by a woman. By themselves, maybe, but not by a woman.

  “What would you say to that?” he asked her. “What would you say if I told you I loved you? That I would try to be the faithful man you need?”

  “I would say that the what if at the beginning of the sentence means you aren’t serious.”

  “Oh, I am serious,” he teased. “Let me show you how serious,” he added and pulled her close to him, pressing his lips gently against hers.

  CHAPTER TEN

  DURAND AND ASHA extended their stay at the Savoy far longer than was prudent for either of them, locked together in bed, forgetting all passage of time. Eventually, the two parted, as the call of planning the next party in Berlin demanded Durand’s attention. Asha returned to her apartment in London, and Durand went on to Berlin, to scout out the venue, and answer Madelyn’s ever more insistent demands that he come for final approval of the facilities. She wasn’t wrong. The ball needed his attention.

  Durand hated being apart from Asha and realized that her influence had grown to touch every aspect of his life. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another. Their nights apart gnawed at him, made him toss and turn through many sleepless hours. He was growing obsessed, and he had only just started to realize this might be what his father ha
d felt when he’d left his mother. Could it be? Could he have been taken by emotions this overwhelming? Had he been too hard on his father all these years?

  And yet, he’d never committed to a woman, never had a child, never left them to follow his lust or his love, or whatever emotion overwhelmed his sense. He was free to indulge in love, since he had no obligations. All he had was his own vow that he wouldn’t let love rule his life.

  And yet, here love was. Keeping him up at night. Making him forget his responsibilities to the Sphinx Society, soaking up every last thought in his brain. Durand had thought that he’d been the one to teach Asha about the intricacies of sexual pleasure, but she, he realized, was the one teaching him about love.

  The days the two were apart seemed endless, but eventually, Asha flew to Berlin.

  Durand waited in the Berlin Airport mid-morning for Asha to pass through customs. He’d driven there himself to pick her up, shocking Madelyn, who’d never seen him take on such a lowly duty himself, but the fact was, he needed to see Asha again and did not want to wait for the taxi to bring her to him. It had been a little more than a week, and he itched to hold her in his arms. He wanted to spend all of his time with the woman who seemed to have bewitched him. There was no other word for it. He was under her spell.

  Falling in love with you would be foolish.

  Her words had hurt him more than he’d like to admit. He shouldn’t care that she’d said it, flippantly. After all, since when did he want a woman mooning over him? Falling in love? Wasn’t that what he’d tried to avoid his whole life?

  Yet Asha was different. He needed her in a way he’d never needed a woman. That unnerved him, but what worried him even more was a nagging feeling that she wasn’t as serious about him as he was about her, that at the heart of things, this was just a game to her. He needed to convince her otherwise. He just wasn’t sure how.

  He watched as tourists poured through the customs doors, dragging their luggage behind them, glancing at the unfamiliar signs, looking for their rideshares and taxis. He grew impatient as different people walked by him, none of them the one he wanted to see. He scanned the crowd, looking for Asha’s beautiful black hair, her gorgeous tan complexion, her amazing curves. They invaded his thoughts during the day and his fantasies at night. He’d only half joked about her being an obsession. Now he feared that’s exactly what she’d become. He’d thought that the week they’d spent together in London would scratch the itch he’d had, and that he could move on, but instead, his want for her...hell, his need for her, just seemed to grow. He knew he was getting in too deep. Knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t help it.