Snow Mistress
Page 13
He smiled, radiating joy and delight. His dark eyes searched her face. “I love you.” He kissed her so feverishly she thought the snow around them would melt away completely. Swept up in the pleasure, she returned the kisses, biting his lower lip and holding onto the plush flesh for a moment before releasing him.
They used another condom to celebrate her choice, delighting in the snowy gardens. By the time they were both sated they were aching with satisfaction. She felt the sweet bruises he’d left on her from their rough loving. Her dress, cloak and hair were soaked through. Her teeth chattered despite the burning in her heart.
As he lifted her into his arms, cuddling her against his chest, she noticed that they’d filled the garden space with the shapes of their bodies. Snow angels flying across every surface they had played upon. She shivered and he cuddled her tighter against him. “Let me go get you thawed out,” he whispered happily into her snow-wet hair.
Chapter 8
November 22, 2015
Ursa woke alone with azure light spilling onto her face. She groaned and curled into the pillow beside her, smelling chocolate and feeling the harsh rasp of paper under her cheek. She blinked to full wakefulness and squinted at the brilliant white landscape beyond the window. It looked like a Christmas postcard with the trees frosted heavily with diamond sparkles and the gleam of Lake Tahoe a brilliant blue in the distance.
Sitting up, she listened to the silence of the room and then blinked around, looking for signs of Leo. He was gone.
On the pillow lay an envelope. Beneath it was a small box. She opened the envelope first, feeling her heart strangely heavy in her chest.
A card tumbled from of the folded paper but she focused on the writing.
Princess,
You looked so beautiful and peaceful that I wanted to let you sleep a little longer. Come join me in the lounge for breakfast when you wake up! I’ll be waiting for you!
Love,
Leo
P.S. This card is yours. I hope you will accept it as part of the perks and price of being mine.
Blearily she blinked at the card, a little rectangle of thin metal, and squinted at it. On the lower left corner it had her name, Ursa Myller. It looked a little like an American Express card but in black and it most certainly was not plastic. She’d read about this high-end, invitation-only credit card—Amex Centurion.
He had to be out of his mind.
The neatly wrapped package made her pause but she closed her eyes and tore into the silvery wrapping, unveiling a pretty blue box.
Tiffany and Co.
She sighed and pulled open the lid and peeked inside to find a simple key chain with two keys attached to it and a tag engraved with her name on one side and an owl on the other.
She slumped into her pillows and stared out at the glory of the frozen winter outside the window. He’d left these things for her to process without him. Or was he afraid she would throw them in his face?
A smile tugged at her lips while she looked at the pair of keys. One was obviously a house key, the other…the flying B. His car? He was going to let her drive the car? Oh God!
Rolling out of the bed, she dressed hastily, shivering at the chill of the dress. It had not fully dried from the romp in the snow. She hurried out of the room, pressing her mask in place as she went. The halls were empty, most of the guests must have already departed or they were enjoying the last precious moments in privacy. The house felt completely different than the bustling activity of the first arrival with the pulse of sexual energy.
She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say to him. Her heart hammered harder and harder as she ran down the steps. Laughter came from the lounge, and the smell of breakfast and coffee! Pausing outside the door, she checked her dress, brushing uselessly at the dirty smudges in the velvet, and passed a hand over her sleep-mussed hair before squaring her shoulders and striding into the room with the keychain in her fingers.
Cupid sat by the fire, dressed in his arming skirt but rather than the strap of the quiver over his chest, he wore the white leather with the gleaming silver owl breastplate in the center of his dark skin.
Dragon sat beside him and both men stretched their long legs out before them, wearing similar confident, smug expressions. Faery lounged nearly naked on the sofa, one arm slung over her eyes and a dreamy, indolent smile curving her lips. Dragon rubbed one of her sandal-clad feet, laughing at some joke shared among the small group.
House Mistress lay on the other sofa wearing a thick silken robe and dangling a mug of coffee between her fingers. The woman looked up as Ursa entered, a smile blooming widely across her full lips.
Cupid looked up as well, his dark eyes shining with delight as he surged to his feet, vibrating with nervous energy. “Mistress.”
Ursa held up the key ring and jingled the keys as she eyed her dark Cupid.
He held his breath, his smile widening with such boyish eagerness she wished she could scoop him up into her arms and spin him around.
“You want me to drive your car, too?” she asked
He looked from her face to the keys and back to her again with a little shake of his head. “No, princess.” He remained very still as his throat worked. “That belongs to your car.”
Faery very slowly lifted her forearm from her eyes and turned her head as both Dragon and House Mistress barked out laughter. “Fucking spoiled!” she huffed before Dragon pulled her by the ankle down the sofa toward him. “She is! She’s so spoiled! It’s not even Christmas! Oh, my fucking…mmph!” Any other complaints or opinions were muffled by the kiss as Dragon swooped down on her and ravished her lips.
Ursa tried to reason her way through his words but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what he’d said. “I don’t have a—” He smiled wider and she gawked at him, sputtering, “You’re c-crazy,” she stuttered.
His expression looked devastatingly sweet. “I’ll give you the grand tour tonight,” he said with a brazen smile.
“Are we going to have a house-warming party?” House Mistress asked, glancing over at Dragon and Faery but they had not surfaced from their kiss. She rolled her eyes back to Ursa. “It’s a new-to-you house.”
“You knew about this?” Ursa demanded.
“Of course.” House Mistress brushed her knuckles lightly over her robe.
Ursa walked to Cupid, throwing her arms around his shoulders, standing on tiptoes to kiss his lower lip. “You are impossible.”
He stroked a hand through her hair and nodded in agreement. “Merry Christmas?”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving!” she huffed as he rubbed his nose along hers.
“Oh? Really? Hmmm, I guess that means I’ll have to get you something even more extravagant for Christmas,” he whispered against her lips, shivering with the anticipation of cooking up something even better.
Or worse.
To distract him from his scheming, she kissed him. Pulling him down to her and kissing him hard enough to curl his toes.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Diana Rose Wilson
Diana Rose Wilson grew up under the shadow of the Mayacamas Mountains, raised by outlaws and bikers. She has been involved in the lifestyle since 1989, including working at a high end adult boutique specializing in fetish, BDSM and LGBT merchandise. Her debut book is Wicked Masquerade, first in the Forbidden Secrets series. She has also been published in Finesse, a publication for the Thomas Keller Restaurant group.
Her mundane work experience spans the computer gaming industry, technology dot coms, hazardous waste disposal, including the Gulf Oil spill cleanup, County Administration, and the culinary industry.
Currently Diana lives in wine country with her husband, where she enjoys good wine, better food, loud Harleys, 3-day eventing, and the delights of deviant erotica. She is a member of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, Snoopy Writers and CFTW Writer’s Block
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