Masked Definitions

by A. E. Murphy

  I climb into the back already feeling nauseous and we haven’t yet started moving. I take a seat by the door on the left and Penelope sits on the sideways bench by the mini fridge. She immediately opens it, grinning wickedly, and hands me a bottle of wine.

  Elijah surprisingly sits beside me as Max slides up and down the bench by Penelope. I tense, unsure how to react when Elijah’s hip rests against my own. Though he doesn’t seem fazed, he doesn’t even acknowledge me as Penelope pours wine into four glasses and he hands me mine.

  I sip it greedily, feeling moronic for doing so on an empty stomach.

  “Do you go out in limos often?” Max asks Elijah.

  “Sometimes,” Elijah responds and drains his wine glass in one.

  Penelope quirks a brow at him. “It’s unlike you to drink so quickly. Everything okay?”

  Elijah nods and presses a button on the wall by his head; soft music begins to lilt in the background. I close my eyes and breathe. I hate sitting in the back of vehicles, hate it.

  “It’s a short journey,” Elijah says close to my ear.

  I tilt my head to acknowledge him.

  “Don’t bite your lip,” Penelope admonishes and the limo finally begins to move. “You’ll get lipstick in your teeth.”

  “Oops.” I didn’t even realise I’d trapped my lower lip with my top teeth. I look around me for a mirror. Penelope shrugs apologetically when I ask her. I’m surprised when Elijah gently holds my chin between his finger and thumb and tilts my head back. He dips his head as he looks at my two front teeth.

  “You’re good,” he says, turning my head slightly side to side. Our eyes meet and I inhale a sharp breath when I see his dilated pupils staring back at me. Maybe it’s from the dark but, by the way he squeezes my chin, I know it isn’t. He pulls away leaving me feeling chilled so I wrap my arms around myself and watch Max as he messes around with the multiple buttons on the wall near him so as to figure out their functions.

  I down my glass of wine and Penelope claps her hands once. “That’s more like it.” She follows suit and retrieves the bottle of sweet, flowery tasting wine from the mini fridge.

  I feel a buzz behind my eyes and my body relaxes ever so slightly.

  “Let the fun begin.” I grin at my new friend.

  Penelope refills our glasses and we clink them together.

  I’m not sure what I expected when I was told of this function. I’m pretty sure I had this entire event planned out in my head and I wasn’t far off. I assumed there would be a dinner, but there isn’t going to be a dinner. Instead there’s a fancy buffet with foods I can’t even pronounce. According to Penelope we must avoid the buffet, but I’m so hungry.

  She plies me with expensive champagnes and cocktails that cost a ridiculous amount per glass. All proceeds go to ill third world babies though so I’m not complaining; it’s not like she and Elijah can’t afford it.

  I’m carted around and introduced to people whose names I’ll never remember. Fortunately, I see nobody that I’ve danced for and I’m actually very relieved about this.

  Max has also been dragged around by Elijah, who has introduced him as a cousin instead of a brother. Penelope explained as she was doing my nails that it’s better for people not to know that the prior Duke had a love child. It’d shine badly on Elijah. I’m not sure how, but I just agreed anyway. It doesn’t matter what they tell others, it matters how they treat each other.

  I wave at my husband in the distance as he is pulled into a debate with three older gents. He waves back and gives me a desperate look for help but I ignore it, too happy that I’ve managed to finally ditch Penelope and find my way to the buffet.

  I don’t even care that hardly any other women have snacked from it tonight. It’s ridiculous to waste food. There’s enough here for double the amount of people in the room. It seems hypocritical to not eat from a buffet that was made to support starving babies and children.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Elijah asks, standing close to my shoulder as I pluck a few grapes from a bowl of fruit and snag a pastry of some kind with my other hand.

  “Not really,” I admit and pop a grape into my mouth.

  “Me neither,” he whispers and smiles at a friend across the table. A gasp leaves me when I feel his hand brush over the curve of my arse. It sends a chill through me so powerful, I drop the pastry onto the table. My eyes focus on it as it rolls on its edge before bouncing off a plate, leaving a creamy residue along the rim.

  He looks around, ensuring that nobody can see what he’s doing. I stare at the food, willing my body to behave, though I know it won’t. Already I’m squeezing my thighs together and already my mind is flickering with memories of the orgasms we’ve shared. How is it that he has such power over me? “You see those double doors over there?” I nod discreetly, clocking the large cream doors immediately. “Meet me on the other side in five minutes.”

  “Sorry?” I breathe. He’s joking, right?

  His hand slides up my back, drawing sensual circles with his fingers. “Five minutes, Enna.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “You know it isn’t.”

  My lips part. I pop another grape between them and glance around the room. To everyone else we probably look like two acquaintances sharing polite conversation. “I’m busy.”

  “Something tells me you’re not too busy for what I’m offering.”

  My fingers collect a strawberry and play with the stem. “And what is it that you’re offering?”

  “I want you on my cock.” He whispers it so quietly that I barely hear it, though I feel it fan against my cheek and shoot straight to my groin, which clenches with delight at the possibility.

  I swallow, my throat constricting almost painfully with it. “Penelope…”

  “Is well occupied, as is your husband.” He slides his hand back down to my rear and squeezes. I groan quietly and rest my fingertips on the table to keep myself balanced. “Five minutes.”

  He walks away, leaving me feeling flustered and warm. I grab my drink and down it, uncaring of whether such a display is appropriate in this company. An older woman sneers and tuts but nobody else seems to notice. Ignoring her, I look down to check my dress and figure out a way to get from where I am to where I need to be without being spotted.

  Max is still chatting with the older men; I don’t see Penelope anywhere in the room. This is good. They’re busy, I have five minutes.

  Taking a deep breath, I make my way towards a painting on the wall by the doors and, with a racing heart, I pretend to study it. My hands tremble as I check my hair and glance around the room for nosey peers.

  I become paranoid as I slip towards the doors and raise my hand, ready to open the door just enough for me to squeeze through.

  “Nobody cares about what you’re doing,” I mutter under my breath, tapping into Enna’s courage before moving through the door and into a dark room. It’s so dark I can hardly see my hand in front of my face so when I feel a warm hand wrap around my wrist, I startle before I recall why I’m here and who invited me.

  “Elijah,” I hiss when I’m tugged into his chest and pressed against the door.

  Is he serious? Here? Where anybody could find us?

  The thought of it sends a powerful tickle to my most private place.

  When I feel his lips meet mine and his chest trap me between it and the door, I shiver. Moisture pools between my thighs, drenching my thong as his hands hungrily grasp at every part of me available.

  “Duke,” I whisper pleadingly as his hands grope my behind and pull my hips tightly to his.

  Then he stops and presses his forehead to mine. “You have no idea… no fucking idea how I’ve had to restrain myself just to keep from doing something foolish.”

  His words please every part of me. I had convinced myself that he’d taken what he wanted and was no longer interested.

  He grips my bicep with a firm hand and pulls me further into the darkness. Then I’m turned and I feel walls
either side of me. I’m in some kind of indent, probably beside a fireplace. There isn’t enough room for me to bend my elbows but when I feel the slit in my skirt being opened and fingers ripping my thong from my pussy, I turn statue still.

  Dropping to his knees, he hooks my leg over his shoulder and blows cool air over the mound between my legs.

  It all happens so quickly, the only way I can react is by holding onto the wall with flat palms either side of my hips.

  “Oh…” I cry when he kisses me there. I feel his tongue part me and never in my life have I felt the urge to orgasm so quickly. My hands move to his head where the lace fabric of my dress rests. “God.”

  Wasting no time, he pushes his thumb into my dripping core and sucks my clit into his mouth. I hit my head against the wall when I throw it back to find some semblance of control.

  “Duke,” I breathe, pressing his head harder into me as his tongue teases and laps all of the right places. The one leg that I balance on threatens to give out beneath me. “I can’t… I…”

  It bursts from within so suddenly, I didn’t feel it coming until it’s raging through me like a fire through a dying forest. My entire body spasms and my mouth opens with a silent scream. I feel myself throbbing, clenching and pulling on his thumb as though to draw him deeper inside. His smile against my thigh is no doubt triumphant.

  The burning has yet to dissipate as he stands, holding my dress open, and presses me back into the wall. Then I feel his thumb at my lips, the same thumb that was inside me only seconds ago. He pushes it into my mouth and I don’t hesitate to suck the tangy juices from it. It’s so erotic and I shouldn’t like it but I do. Our eyes meet in the dark and his reactional grunt only makes that fire coursing through me burn brighter.

  Dipping his body, he lifts me and hooks my legs around his hips.

  Lips come to mine again and his hand leaves one thigh and grips the back of my neck to the point of pain. It keeps my head in place as he moves through the darkness. I love it. I want more of it.

  “Hold on,” he says against my mouth and lets me go completely. I cling to him, my arms around his neck and my legs locked behind his back. He lowers me onto some kind of couch and I feel him against my entrance before my back has fully hit it.

  This is so dangerous. The party is just on the other side of that door. If anybody saw me leave, they might come looking and… oh fuck that feels so good.

  He slams home, pushing in to the base so that his hips are fully against mine.

  “Why do you feel so fucking good?” His words are an angry hiss.

  “More,” I beg and tug on his hair.

  A groan escapes him when I bite onto the curve of his neck and use my hands to help him thrust into me harder and faster.

  My orgasm is building but after my first, I’m stuck in the burning tingle stage that makes your body jerk. It feels amazing but it’s frustrating.

  My core clenches down and I move my hips up and down, praying that I come soon or I’ll be frustrated for days.

  “Enna,” he breathes, panting loudly in between his grunts and moans. “You’re mine.” I bite his neck harder. “Yes. Say it… say that you’re mine; you’re my little fuck toy. You’ll be there whenever I want in this delicious pussy.”

  He pulls my thigh higher up his hip and slows his thrusts.

  “Last… time…” I pant through my delirium, unsure what is real and what isn’t anymore.

  “Say it, promise me, or I won’t let you come.”

  This definitely gets my attention. “No… this is the last time.”

  I hear the door rattle and freeze. Elijah continues unfazed. “Say it.”

  “Elijah,” I try to scramble up the couch but he keeps me pinned, his cock still buried inside me. He flexes it and I close my eyes at the feeling it creates. This is torture. I need to come. I need to go. We’re going to get caught.

  “Promise me.”

  “No.”

  The door rattles again. I try to twist to see it but Elijah grips my jaw and locks my face in place. His icy grey eyes flash like silver in the dark. “I want you over my desk in my office. On the couch in my living room. On my lap in the car.” He presses his lips to mine. “I want you until we’re both so sore we can hardly stand but even then, I doubt that will be enough.”

  “Please…”

  “Say it. I know you want it. I know you want this as much as I do.”

  “Fine,” I bite out, panicking when the door rattles again. How are we going to explain being in here alone together?

  I feel his smile right before I feel him pulse. “Fuck, not yet,” he cries loudly, so loudly I’ll be surprised if they didn’t hear him through the door. “Not yet… Enna…” His hips begin to piston quickly in and out. The fullness I feel, coupled with the speed and the thrill of being caught, tips me over. No longer am I in the limbo before orgasm.

  I inhale a hoarse breath and cling to him as my body clenches with pleasure. I can’t cope with this. It’s too much.

  “Oh, god!” I yell into his neck to smother the sound of my voice. I’ve never felt so out of control of my body.

  “Quickly.” I’m pulled to my feet, still clenching and tingling. Elijah grabs me around the waist and drags me through the room. I gasp when light spills across the pink couch we were just fucking on as the rattling door opens. We turn a corner and close another door before I see who it was seeking entrance.

  Both of us lean against it, panting, our clothes a mess and our hair even more so. At least there’s some light in here, a lamp in the corner glowing dimly.

  “Holy fuck,” I whisper, my eyes wide. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  Elijah runs his hands through his hair and stares ahead as if I’m not here.

  “We’ve been gone too long.”

  “I know,” he grits, a frown marring his handsome face.

  I stare at his profile though he doesn’t look at me.

  We both begin to straighten out our clothes in silence. I wince when I feel the mess between my legs. “Do you make a habit of having sex with people without a condom?”

  He quirks a brow. “Do you?”

  I swallow when his hands turn me and help to sort out the mess that is my hair. My lips feel swollen and bruised and I have no idea how I’m going to pull off walking when I feel so horrible down below.

  “No,” I admit. “Just you.”

  “I assume you’re on birth control?”

  I nod and turn to help him straighten his shirt and bowtie. He knocks my hands away and does it himself.

  “If you take that door and follow the hall down, the third door on the right is a bathroom.”

  He knows his way around here yet he still fucked me in a room where we were likely to get caught?

  “Get yourself cleaned up and then re-join the party.” His eyes remain on the door as he takes off towards it.

  “Where’s my thong?” I ask, my voice a loud whisper.

  He points to the lapel of his jacket so I’m assuming it’s in the inside pocket. There’s no point in me asking for it back as it’s in tatters anyway after he ripped it from my body.

  “Elijah…” I say before he opens the door. He stills, his hand on the door handle. “I’m not a bad person. Am I?”

  I watch him turn and stride towards me. My eyes widen when he extends an arm and hooks his hand around the back of my neck. Before I can register what he’s doing, his lips are on mine and his tongue is pushing into my mouth.

  After a moment he pulls back and presses his forehead to mine, his eyes squeezed shut.

  He murmurs, “We both are.” Then he heads towards the door again.

  I don’t hesitate to race after him but instead of following him through a door on the left, I head towards the bathroom, praying that I don’t bump into anyone on the way.

  Fortunately, I don’t. The hall is empty save for odd statues on pedestals lining the walls. The eyes of the armless men and women cast judgemental glares that follow m
e as I pass.

  It’s not until I’m in the safety of the bathroom that I finally blow out a breath of relief. It’s a single room as opposed to a room with multiple cubicles. Locking the door, I press my back against it before unattractively sitting on the tub to wash away any evidence of my adultery. Unprotected sex is not only dangerous, it’s not very glamorous either.

  I spend a good amount of time washing myself before finally plucking up the courage to fix myself in the mirror.

  My lips are a swollen mess; my hair isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but my foundation has streaked where my face perspired.

  This is gross. I’m disgusting.

  Wetting my hands, I try to fix my face, wishing I’d brought back up make-up with me. I’m fully aware that I’m taking too long so I inhale deeply and quickly exit the bathroom.

  My body hits a warm wall and unfamiliar arms come around me to steady my footing.

  “I am so sorry,” I gasp as I right myself.

  He releases me and smiles kindly, though one hand remains on my elbow as I pull my dress back into place. “Are you okay?”

  “I wasn’t looking.” I realise that I haven’t answered his question. His kind smile is as unfamiliar as his arms. I remember seeing him speaking to the Duke in the main room not long after we arrived. They seemed close but I wasn’t standing near enough to warrant an introduction. “But I’m okay. Are you?” I look him up and down, making sure that I haven’t marked his divine grey suit in any way.

  “All good.” He dips his head and I can’t help but admire how handsome he is. What is it with all of these tall, dark and handsome men? Do the upper class have magic water or something? “My name is Tobias Lockhart.”

  “Oh, I’m Olivia Corbin.”

  His head tilts as he tries to draw my name and face from his memory. “We haven’t met?”

  “Not yet. I’m here with my husband, the Duke and his wife Penelope.”

  “Ah, Corbin… the Duke’s cousin?”