by Anthology
Across the room I notice a grayish blonde man with shoulders as broad as he is tall. His back is to me. I have to know if it’s him. I just need to get closer. One look at his face and I will know. My pulse quickens as I start across the marble floor. I let my body move to the music as I glide in the direction of my prize. When I am only a few yards away a firm hand clasps onto my arm. Fuck. They have already found me out.
I whirl around and my heart stops dead in my chest. Instead of the security guard I pictured that was here to throw me out, the chiseled dirty blonde god from the receiving line stands before me. The picture of trouble only an arm’s length away. I struggle to keep my mind and soul on the task I have been given. I can’t begin to explain why his presence affects me so much. He stands like a silent statue and extends his hand toward mine. Fuck me. Does he know who I am? My heart pounds like a jackhammer relentlessly ripping the pavement apart. He steps closer. This is it. I am dead.
Unable to summon any words I place my hand in his. He smiles like the spider who has finally captured the fly and pulls me toward him. What the hell is happening? The smell of Balvenie whisky and notes of ambroxan, pepper, and bergamot take my senses hostage. I feel his strong hand on the small of my back guiding my body into his as we crash into one another and I realize I have wandered onto the dance floor. He begins to move to the music, leading me to the rhythm. I follow, matching him step for step, our hips moving as one in time with the intoxicating melody. The devil in me springs to life. The selfish part of me wants to savor this moment so desperately. The fire of the contact between us burns my skin and ignites the most sensitive parts of me. The bodies around us move with the music like a hypnotic pendulum. I fall under his spell once again and they all fall away. The illuminated cathedral is just for us.
“Who are you?” he asks with the voice I hear in my dreams. Like Mowgli in the jungle, when I hear his low growl for the first time, I know I am a doomed. The British accent is undeniably masculine with a strange gentleness about it, like he could absolutely rip my world apart yet hold me tenderly until it stopped spinning. “ I didn’t catch your name earlier.”
“I … You can call me Lorelei. I’m here for Mr. Hook,” I answer and glance away from his penetrating eyes. Mr. Hook is known for hiring hordes of beautiful women for his parties.
“Lorelei,” he repeats slowly letting the word swirl around in his mouth like a fine wine. Then he gives a half smile and nods as if we share an intimate secret. “Fitting name for the Siren’s Ball.” He looks me up and down knowingly. “So you’re here for business instead of pleasure then?”
“Something like that,” I answer breathlessly as we move to the music. The word pleasure rolls off his tongue and takes a life of its own dancing around me like a sprite creating the most wicked images in my mind. I need to get away from this man but I can’t bear to break away from his embrace. He guides us around the dance floor and I am only vaguely aware of the people watching.
“Pity. Mr. Hook is a lucky man,” he breathes low and smooth like hot caramel. He twirls me out to arm’s length and his eyes travel over every inch of my skin. I am exposed. “Flawless … Absolutely flawless,” he mutters as he shakes his head in disbelief and pulls me back to him. I gasp when our bodies collide and his lips brush my cheek then find my ear. “I shall pay my respects to the old man. I doubt he will survive the night with you.”
I pull back sharply and stare up at him mouth open. “What?” How could he possibly?
“Forgive me, Lorelei.” He is still holding me and his eyes beg me to return to his embrace. “You look perfect tonight. I just meant that no mortal man could survive a night with a woman a beautiful as you. Even if his body endures his heart and soul will be lost forever.” He gives a wink that would have Elsa running for sunscreen.
My resistance softens as he pulls me back to him. He thinks I’m a whore. This amazing sexy man believes I am nothing more than an escort hired by Mr. Hook to entertain the so called gentlemen at his party. The most fucked-up part is I can do nothing to show him otherwise. For tonight I am a whore hired by Mr. Hook. Everything depends on it. What a sick trick of fate to meet the right person at the wrong time. His stunning green eyes are searching my face.
“You are forgiven,” I reply coolly and allow him to move me around the ballroom. The great clock at the end of the hall strikes ten. I scan the room for Mr. Hook but still do not see him. Everyone is wearing elaborate venetian costumes with ornate masks. The vibrant colors blend as we move around the room. For the first time I begin to worry that I won’t be able to find him. The costumes vary from deeply beautiful to grotesque, but no one bares their own face. Though dancing is a perfect cover I need to find him. I have to go. “I need to go. Thank you for the dance,” I say quickly and start to pull away.
“You need to go to him?” he asks with weight in his voice as if it is actually causing him pain. I know that can’t be as we just met.
“Yes,” I answer. NO! No no no, I never want to leave this man’s arms. “That’s why I’m here. I’m sorry I must go.”
“Wait.” His grip on my wrist tightens. “ I can’t let you go just yet. Mr. Hook isn’t in here at the moment anyway. He should be arriving anytime.”
I look around the room. He is right I still don’t see Mr. Hook anywhere, but there are over two hundred people in here. All of them are dressed to the hilt in extravagant disguises. What if I can’t find him? Panic starts to rise.
“I can see you really want to be with him.” He doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment. “I’ll tell you what. Stay with me until he arrives, then I will introduce you personally.” The emerald pools implore me. The magical seduction of his panty melting voice destroys my senses.
“Yes.” I hear myself answer before my brain even has a chance to think it through. As reason catches up every alarm bell in my being is sounding. I can’t spend too much time with any one person. Fuck. I am breaking every rule. Mother would be furious. I know better than this, but something about his eyes, his intoxicating scent, I am helpless to resist. “So you know him then?” I ask realizing how stupid that sounds. Of course he knows him. Mr. Hook owns everything and everyone here. It dawns on me that I don’t even know this incredible man’s name.
“You could say that,” he answers as his mouth turns up in that adorable half smile. He is fucking delicious. “I work for Mr. Hook. Everyone calls me X.”
“Seriously … X? You didn’t get a whole nickname?” I ask playfully.
“I don’t need one,” he answers with the confidence of a man who’s is the master of his domain.
“Well then please you meet you … X,” I banter back, not about to give him the upper hand in the conversation. Did I come across him in some of the research? He works for Mr. Hook so I must have. The name rings a bell for some reason, I just can’t place him.
He intertwines his hand with mine and holds me to him. “Believe me, darling the pleasure is all mine,” he says in a tone so low it is almost a growl as he kisses my hand. The contact explodes and spreads through my body like a wildfire. How will I ever walk away? Yet when the time comes I know I must and never look back. We are moving now at such a pace the room blurs into a whirl of exaggerated color.
I don’t deserve this. I know better. I need to walk away. Why tonight of all nights. Why did I have to meet him tonight? His very touch excites every part of me. He moves with the grace and confidence of a man who owns the world. I watch him in awe. In a room full of the most beautiful people his eyes are only on me. I have to wake up from this fantasy and come back to life. I have a job to do. This is supposed to be the biggest night of my life. This is supposed to be the culmination of everything I have worked so hard for. Yet in the arms of this perfect stranger I am swept away.
The music stops for a moment and the MC comes to the stage. This is it. He must be here. I search desperately for Mr. Hook. He is nowhere to be seen. The MC introduces Lord Hedrick and Lord Culliver and their lovely wives K
athy and Christine. Kathy’s emerald and gold gown is beyond breathtaking. The brocade and satin fabrics are so fine they belong in a museum behind a wall of glass. Her ornate gold mask is adorned with emeralds and diamonds that match her massive necklace. She looks like a Venetian queen. Christine is wearing a crimson and silver dress. The silver brocade skirt bustles over a heavy crinoline and pools onto the floor, the layers of crimson chiffon cascade around it. All I can think of is my favorite Holiday Barbie from my youth. I wanted to be her so much when I was six. Lady Christine is every bit as beautiful as my doll ever dreamed of. Her mask is silver and adorned with the same rubies and diamonds as her bodice. They are magnificent.
I would wager their attire for this one night would cost more than most people’s homes. A thief would find it irresistible. Unless of course they knew about the real prize.
“He’s not here yet,” X insists pulling my attention back to him. “I promise to let you know the moment he arrives and though it will kill my soul, I will take you to him immediately. I know when he sees you he will never let you go,” X says staring down at me. “Since I only have you for a little while, what do you say we forget ourselves just for a short time. Let everything go and just be with me as if there was no one else in the world.”
“X. I …” I struggle to find the words. I would love nothing more than to forget my life and enjoy him for as long as I possibly can. But I know better. This is crazy. “You don’t want to take me on. I am always trouble believe me.”
“Darling you are the kind of trouble I could lose myself in. I plan to show up to my own funeral late, madly in love and a little drunk. I imagine one taste of you could do all three.” His low rumble finds the perfect place in my soul. The want in his emerald eyes is overwhelming. His strong hands are holding me and the heat of his body flows into mine. I can tell he is the kind of man to always gets what he wants.
“There are a hundred girls in here. You can have any of them. I can’t be with you. I am already promised to Mr. Hook,” I respond grasping at reason. We are on the edge of mistakes that cannot be undone.
“There’s no one else here. From the moment I first saw you in that dress, there were no other women. Only you. I would give anything to see it in a pile on my floor.” He trails his fingers down the side of my face and I pull away before he touches my mouth.
“No. We can’t. I won’t kiss you. I can’t. Please. I should go,” I stammer and pull away. I long to have his lips on mine. Fuck me. Why am I meeting him tonight? Why fucking tonight. This is beyond unfair. I have decided Fate is a cruel bitch and she fucking hates me.
“Slow down,” he commands and guides me with the hand on the small of my back. He slides it down slowly and holds tightly to the top of my ass. Fuck. The music has a Latin rhythm. I am powerless to resist and he can feel it. He moves us perfectly with the seductive melody and I feel myself slipping back into his trance. “I want to savor every moment with you slowly. If I had you alone I would devour you and ruin you for any other man even the elusive Mr. Hook.”
I have no doubt he is telling the truth. I would love to be ravaged by this man. How many nights have I dreamed of exactly that? It’s like he stepped right out of my wildest dreams and walked right into my life. I try not to picture him ripping this dress from my flesh.
“You are dangerous.” I breathe knowing I need to break away.
“Yes.” He leans closer so that his lips brush my forehead. “I am.”
He is everything my mother warned me about. Why, why, why am I meeting him now? My heart and body are about to explode. Moving with him to this music is ripping me apart. I need to breathe. I feel a sheen of sweat glisten across my face. The ecstasy in my lipstick is making its way into my bloodstream. I need to find Mr. Hook as soon as possible.
My steps falter and my head swims. I need fresh air. X notices my distress and slows our pace.
“Follow my lead. I want to show you something,” he whispers. I should say no. I should stay here but my body is already in step with his. The music morphs into a slow seductive Tango. He moves with expert care keeping me in his arms at all times. My body moves with his as if it has a mind of its own and we have known the steps all our lives. Before I realize it we have reached the edge of the conservatory and we move through the open doors into the cool night air. It feels amazing on my skin. Every nerve ending is alive. A million tiny icicles invigorate the warm burn of my flesh. My eyes are hooded with desire and the effects of the drug. I know I am running out of time. Midnight is coming fast.
We walk across the stone patio and stop at the edge of the grass. He drops to one knee and begins to unfasted my delicate shoe.
“What are you doing?” I shriek. I have never had a man try to take off my shoes. Other garments yes, but never my shoes, it catches me completely off guard.
He freezes and looks up at me. “Do you trust me, Lorelei?” He waits but I don’t answer. I barely know him. How could I possibly trust him? My inhibitions are fuzzy. Which I guess is the whole idea, but I am with the wrong man!
“I need you to trust me,” he commands me like a fog that comes out of the canyon and surrounds me. I am powerless to resist it. I feel his words in my very being.
“I trust you X,” I breathe. Famous last words. I wonder if my mother will put that on my casket.
“Perfect,” he responds and smiles. The spider has caught the fly. He will ruin me. Carefully he removes one shoe and then the other. “ Come with me,” he says as he stands and takes my hand. He leads me across the dew covered grass. The sensation is beyond incredible. Every blade of grass causes a little foot orgasm with each step. We reach a small hedge of trees and he picks me up.
“I don’t want the pine needles to hurt your feet,” he explains and carries me like a bride across the threshold. On the other side is a small courtyard. Illuminated by the giant full moon and a million stars. The lights of London provide a soft glow in the distance. We are all alone. An exquisite fountain in the center of the space is a sculpture of the Siren Lorelei. She is the epitome of beauty in her gown and wears a wreath of stars in her hair. The way the moonlight reflected off her and the water she seemed to glow.
“Wow. It’s really her.” I can’t believe it.
“You didn’t know she was here?” he asked laughing. “That’s why this is the Siren’s ball. There is a magnificent ice sculpture of her in the main dining hall as well.”
“I had no idea.” How did I not know that? I begin to doubt my research. Who is this man. I feel like I am in an alternate universe. “I grew up with her legend.” I admit to him and I don’t know why.
“I did too.” He takes my hand. “There’s not a son of a sailor in all of northern Europe or Scandinavia that doesn’t know of her magic. She is the beautiful nymph of the Rine that our mothers warn us about. No sailor that sought her ever returned to be seen again. Her beauty and song are irresistible.”
A chill runs over me. My mother told me this tale as well. Only I can never tell him in my story the Siren is the heroine. My dear, you have no idea who I am. My heart breaks as I know how this night will end.
The music from the party floats through the open doors and finds us. We are surrounded by the incredible beauty of this moment. He sets my shoes down on a Elizabethan bench and takes my hand. “Dance with me in the dark. Away from prying eyes. You are all that I can see. All that I want is you between my arms.” We move back and forth under the stars barefoot in the grass and for the first time in my life I am complete. It makes no sense, but in his arms I truly belong.
“Darling, you are like an angel. Truly perfect. I want to cherish you and defile you at the same time.” He leans in to kiss me and I pull away.
“No. Please. You can’t kiss me. I’m sorry, X.” I turn to run to the conservatory but he grabs my hand.
“Wait. Your shoes.” I stop and turn back. The look of pain on his face is unmistakable. Even with the mask I can see the hurt in his eyes.
“I get it
, too personal. What if I promise not to kiss you … on the mouth?” He tempts. “What If I only kiss your hand …” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses gently. “Or your arm …” He kisses my arm. I inhale sharply. Oh, sweet Jesus. He pulls me close to him again and I don’t resist.
“What about your neck? Can I kiss you here?” His lips find the nape of my neck and I grip his curly hair. I want his mouth all over me. I want every inch of him. The devil within begins to awaken. He has no idea what he is walking into. I need to cut him loose before it’s too late.
“Stop. I belong to someone else. Please this is a really bad Idea. You have no idea how dangerous this is.” I pull away but the sensation of his mouth on me is generating a storm inside. His mouth moves down over my collarbone and his free hand finds my breast. I feel the throbbing of my clit between my legs and my red lace panties take the damage of my excitement. In another move my corset is exposed.
“Fucking hell,” he exclaims when he sees the black and red lace device. “If there was any chance of turning back it’s gone now. I would sail straight into the depths of fire for you.”
He buries his head between my breasts and all I can do is moan. It feels so fucking good. My panties are completely useless now. His warm wet mouth finds my nipple and takes me in. I am a horrible person. I am promised to someone else. Fuck. I am going straight to fucking hell. I want him to take me on. Fuck, I want him to ravage me to ruin right here in the wet grass. He moves from one breast to the other. I feel his strong hand moving down my bodice and pulling up billows of my dress. I need to tell him to stop. I need to walk away.