by B C Morgan
She gets started on my hair first, putting soft curls in before putting half up and keeping it out of my face with a clip and letting the hair fall into the rest of the curls. She does my makeup soft apart from my lips which she does red, I’m not entirely sold on it but she’s so excited and I’m not exactly an expert with this kind of thing.
By the time I’m in my dress and she’s getting ready, I don’t even recognize myself and that’s before I put the mask on. Damn am I nervous though. My palms are sweating and my legs may as well be made of jello with the way they’re shaking. Part of me wishes my ankle was still hurting, but as long as I take a couple painkillers I’m good to go. Why couldn’t it have been broken?
Daria steps out of the bathroom and she’s absolutely stunning, she looks nervous and I’ve never seen her like this before.
“D, you look amazing.”
She’s wearing a knee length ivory dress with red roses on the skirt and red gems spread out in intricate patterns across the top. Her hair is up in a twist and her make up is light but it’s the mask that steals the show. White with a red lace overlay and red and white feathers coming off from the sides, if she wasn’t already claimed she would be after tonight.
I hate myself so much for thinking that, but it’s true. She’s one of the prettiest girls here and by far the nicest, who wouldn’t want to have her all to themselves? I’m just glad Bradley claimed her first, by what she says, he’s definitely treating her better than his counterparts would have done.
She helps me fix my mask in place before opening the door to leave but instead of walking out, she bends over and rushes back to me. She’s left the door wide open and girls are starting to filter into the corridor, looking in my room and not even trying to hide it.
Daria thrusts something into my hands before rushing to close the door and I look down to see a square box with a card attached. I peel it off with shaking hands and read the script on the other side.
I look forward to seeing these draped around your neck, no matter which dress you picked, I will be the one dancing with you when the night comes to an end.
“There’s no name,” I say, as I pass the card over to Daria and open the box, a soft gasp falling out as I take in the jewelery.
Daria all but squeals when she sees the moon charm with an L engraved on the underside, sitting on a pale chain. There are also a pair of star studs with a crystal dangling from each and a moon and stars charm bracelet.
It’s too much, I can’t wear this. On the other hand, I don’t have much of a choice. Daria helps to put the necklace and bracelet on and I take one last look at myself before we leave my room, walk through the corridor and down the spiral staircase. All I can think about is who sent me the jewelery, and what the fuck does it mean that they did?
We head towards the ballroom and Bradley is waiting outside the doors, his eyes already on Daria and it’s like he can’t bring himself to look away for a single moment. He’s ignoring whatever Sam is saying as he walks to stand beside him, followed by Scott, Shane and Aeron.
“You know you won’t get a word out of him,” Shane says with a sneer as we get closer and his eyes rake over me, and I feel almost dirty under his stare.
I don’t feel safe around him and it isn’t just the way he’s treated me or the things he says, it’s the vibe he gives off. It’s funny that I’ve been in the presence of the big bad Prince and yet this is the guy that I fear the most.
“If it isn’t Thirty-Four, I lost out on a good fuck because of you,” his voice chills me, I can feel his hatred radiating from his body and I don’t understand it.
He steps closer but Aeron gets to my side quicker, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him.
“Let’s go Little Zero, I’ve got a bottle of jack calling my name,” he leads me away from the group and through the doors leading into the ballroom.
The space is immense, chairs and tables are against the walls and the curtains are held back letting the moonlight and stars shine their way into the room. The ceiling is an arched dome with three grand chandeliers hanging down from it. The decorations are cold and captivating, almost as though danger is lurking in every corner with the pure white and jet black color scheme they have going on. They’ve somehow managed to make it look as though ice is crawling up the walls with smoke billowing across the floor. It’s only a light layer but it’s so fucking surreal. The glasses and plates are as black as obsidian, even the waiters are dressed in all black except for an ice white shirt and they’re carrying pure white trays.
“What’s with the colors?” I ask, over the soft ballad that is filling the room.
“Couldn’t say, the Prince chose it himself,” he’s smirking as usual but there’s no humor in his eyes. That’s the thing with Aeron, he’s almost always high and jovial but the laughter and smiles very rarely touch his eyes.
“It’s a shame you didn’t choose my dress, but I can see why. You look... ravishing,” he’s showing way too many teeth, but it still makes my blood heat.
“You sound as though you’re planning on eating me,” I say and I have no idea why his eyes are wider and his nostrils are flaring. Was it something I said?
He slips his mask on, before leading me over to one of the windows, before standing behind me and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Believe me, I have so many plans that involve tasting everything you have to offer.” His breath spreads over the side of my neck before he crouches down and grazes his fingertips over my leg and skates them up to my knee.
“Aeron, get up,” I don’t know who’s shouting that but he does as he’s told, only now he’s standing in front of me, with his hand rising higher and higher on my inner thigh.
He places his other hand on my hip before he gyrates his hips, rocking his pelvis against me and I can’t take my eyes off him or my mind off the fact that his hand is now as high as it can go. With one of his fingers grazing across my panties and hitting my lips with every stroke.
“It’s a party, Little Zero,” he says as he starts moving my hips in time with his - but it has to be to music only he can hear - until we’re flush against one another and his hand is rubbing against my clit. He hasn’t slipped beneath my panties yet and I’m relieved by that… I think.
“Wrong dance,” I breathe out, knowing we should be swaying to the music, not gyrating and thrusting and everything else he’s doing against me. We may as well be having sex with the way he’s moving and making my body move. He’s making my skin heat and my breath catch.
“Who the fuck cares,” he brings his head closer to me before sliding his tongue up my neck and stopping just below my ear. “I want to trace every inch of your body with my tongue and fingers, what do you think? Do you want to feel my tongue over every plain and column of your body, leaving no part untouched?”
I can’t even breathe, excitement coursing through me at his words and even my inner voice is suspiciously quiet. I guess she wants Aeron to do all of that as well.
“I could make you sing,” another lick and then a bite on my lobe has me whispering out, “yes.” Right before he’s pulled away from me and slammed against the wall.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, maybe if you went one day without a joint you’d see that,” I don’t know why Tom is so angry with him but I’m more than ready to slip away and that’s exactly what I will do.
I merge with the people dancing, slipping through and heading towards the drink area, I’m not one to drink alcohol so I grab an ice tea instead - they really do have everything on offer - and just stand here leaning against the bar and watching as the faceless people dance and lose themselves in the music.
I can tell who Maddox is straight away and Tom is the only red head so he’s easy enough to spot but the others are so similar in height or build and even hair color that without looking in their eyes, I can’t figure out who Tucker, Scott or even Shane is now. That last one scares me and I hope I’ll know him before he gets too close.
&n
bsp; Aeron’s mask had been a deep red to match his waistcoat and Tom had a plain black one that just covers his eyes and nose. But some of the others are impossible to describe, gold, filigree patterns, feathers and half face masks, some that arch downwards and come to the chin, leaving only the mouth uncovered. A few have chosen that style but most of the guys are more similar to Aeron’s and Tom’s. Plus it makes it easier to work out who’s under the mask when they wear those.
Someone stands beside me with dark hair and a black and gold mask that lies over his nose and eyes, it spreads down the sides of his face and has gold spirals working their way all over it. Honestly, it seems a little over the top to me but it suits his gold waistcoat, and I’m even more relieved I didn’t wear that god awful gold dress that Aeron picked out for me.
He isn’t saying anything as he gets a beer but I can feel his eyes on me as he takes a large pull from the bottle, I have no idea who he is but I’m starting to feel a little uneasy. Especially as his hand reaches out for me and I can’t help but take a step back and slam into a hard chest. The man in gold snatches his hand back and takes one last look before walking away, but even his mask can’t hide the tick in his jaw.
A pair of hands glide down my arms, across my hands and settle on my hips. I can’t move away and I guess that’s exactly what he wants. He isn’t saying anything and I don’t dare turn around, what if it’s Shane? Although I’m fairly confident if it’s him then he would have said or done something by now. In all honesty, this guy isn’t doing anything, other than holding onto my hips and keeping me pressed against him.
“D-d-do I k-k-know you?”
He isn’t saying anything, what the fuck is going on? He grips my hips a little tighter before stepping forward, and either I do the same or he’ll literally walk all over me.
“Where are you t-t-taking m-me?”
Still no answer, but he keeps moving forward, guiding me to the dance floor and I don’t miss the way people are moving out of our way and giving us a wide berth. This is only making my heart beat harder and I swear I can feel it hitting my ribcage. My chest is heaving and I’m starting to regret choosing this dress, because it isn’t something that can be hidden.
We end up in the center of the dance floor, my back to his front and the music changes instantly, half way through whatever song was on before. One of his hands spreads out against my stomach, his other arm spreads across my chest and ends with his hand caressing my bare shoulder. He slides one of his legs between mine and as What’s Your Fantasy by Ludacris starts up, I don’t even have to worry about how to move. This guy takes full control, moving his body against mine and in turn making mine do whatever he wants. I may as well be a puppet dancing with my puppet master as he teases my strings and makes my body come alive.
I’m entirely at his mercy and I have no idea how I feel about it. How has my mind gone so blank? Maybe it’s the way his skin feels against mine as his fingers stroke against my collar bone. The way his knee moves between my legs, rubbing against my sweet spot, slowly making me come undone. How his hand presses against my stomach holding me as close as I can get, feeling as he starts to get hard and how that hardness brushes against me with every roll of his hips. Forget what I said about Aeron, this is fucking, there is no way we wouldn’t be kicked out if we did this in a club. We may be fully dressed but we are far from decent. The weird thing is, I don’t think I want it to end and I certainly don’t want to know who my dance partner is.
I would never choose a guy over his looks or anything on an outer level, I’m all about the deep and personal. The kindness they show, not whether someone claims they’re selfish or a bastard or any of that crap. Rumors are called that for a reason. No, I go for the person they are, which is why I don’t want to know. Because right now, I feel so connected to this man and I know it will all be ruined if I turn around and find out who it is.
His hand leaves my shoulder and traces circles across my collarbone, moving slowly and it feels as though electricity is shooting throughout my body and soul straight down into my core. I barely even noticed the way my body reacted to men and now it’s all I can focus on. He moves across the tops of my breasts that are pushed up by the dress and I can’t seem to stop my hand from rising up and threading behind his head. Bringing him closer, all I need to do is tilt my head ever so slightly and I can get a peek. Instead, my eyes are slipping closed as my head drops back and rests against his shoulder.
I feel his breath skating across my neck and shoulder but his lips never connect, even as his hand on my stomach starts to move lower and then the song ends and his hands return to my hips but he doesn’t move away. I keep my eyes closed, even as he spins me around so we’re now facing.
“Look at me Star,” strange nickname, especially as… no not going to go there, it doesn’t matter that it was my surname at birth. It’s just a coincidence.
Although the illusion has shattered, hearing that voice that both begs me to run away and to never be anywhere else but near him. It’s Emmet and if I open my eyes, I’m going to see him for the first time since I became a Harkwright girl.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes and come face to face with a man dressed all in black but his waistcoat has stars embroiled within the material, and his mask is beyond all others. It barely leaves any of his face uncovered. Black with silver and white patterns scrawling across it. The left side stops at the eyes but the right travels down to his chin. The top rises and comes together like a crown against his forehead. I can’t make out a lot about him other than he has stubble across the left side of his jaw and over his lower cheek, green eyes that capture me fully and tanned skin that has seen many sunny days. There’s something screaming at me that I already know him, my inner voice is an utter bitch right now telling me to put it all together because I’m going to be in for a shock when I do. Because of that, I’m pretending that there is nothing about him that screams out to me, that his eyes don’t feel like I’ve looked into them before or that I don’t want to drag my nails across his stubble and see how he reacts.
“I was disappointed to hear you chose this dress over the one I picked out for you, but I must admit that you look incredible. I like how well black suits you My Star.”
His star, is he for real? Shit hang on, he doesn’t actually see me as his, does he? I mean I should have seen it coming but he doesn’t even know me and I’m begging to anyone or anything that may be listening that he doesn’t decide to pull a Bradley and claim me.
“I like wearing black, it’s my go to color,” I mumble and I don’t know if I should recoil or lean into his touch when he cups my cheek.
“Oh Luna, I am going to enjoy unravelling you. Once you’re ready of course,” his eyes sparkle but his words are confusing me. Ready, ready for what?
“Ready for what?”
“For me of course, it’s not important right now,” he cups the back of my head and leads me to his chest, where he proceeds to wrap his arms around me and we just stand here, swaying to the soft music that is now coursing through the room.
Everything fades away and I can’t help but lose myself in the way his arms fit around me and how I feel so at peace, in the arms of the prince of the devils. What does that say about me? I’m not sure I even want that question to get answered.
It isn’t until this moment, after countless songs have played and Tucker approaches to get Emmet that I feel as if I can breathe again. Moving away from Emmet, I slip out of the ballroom doors before he can claim anymore of my time this evening. I know what I need to do right now is go outside and get some fresh air. Although more than that, I really need some time alone without any man or girl looking at me or making me feel things that I can’t explain.
The air is cool against my flushed skin, although there isn’t anywhere near enough breeze to settle me completely. I hate these balmy nights but it’s still preferable to being inside right now. I gather my dress around me before descending the stone steps and walk ac
ross the patio, until I come across one of the benches surrounded by the pretty smelling flowers and topiaries of animals and things from around the world. I lower myself down onto the wood and just listen to the owls in the distance, the sound of tiny wings fluttering around and the glow of the fireflies adding their light to the beauty that is already filling the sky.
My shoulders tighten and I brace my hands beside me as stones get kicked by whoever is approaching and I’m hoping it isn’t the Prince. Maybe it will be Tucker or Aeron, although I’m not sure they’re a great alternative either.
“There she is, and here I am without my wallet.”
I don’t dare squeeze my eyes shut, even as my hand trembles. Of course it would be Shane and even though I know he can’t touch me, it is doing very little to ease my fear.
“Come on whore, get on your knees. It’s about time you started earning your keep,” he comes around to stand before me and I can barely hold my cry in as he grips my hair and pulls me from the bench, sending me onto the ground. The stones cutting into my hands and knees.
I look up at him and he can’t keep the smile from his face, he has me exactly where he wants me and I don’t know how to act. Although I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t speak.
Good idea Luna, do not speak. Whatever you say will only be used against you and you will live to regret it.
“You can’t touch me.” I swear, I don’t know why I bother sometimes.
“Last time I checked I was a Harkwright and you are just another one of the whores put here for my amusement. Now take my cock into your mouth and you better fucking deep throat me you little bitch,” he grips my hair again and slams my face against his fly, and all I can think is how relieved I am that his cock isn’t hanging out.