Their Masquerade (The American Soldier Collection 6)

“That dress is perfect for you,” he whispered. She took another sip of wine, as he stared at her breasts and her lips.

“I’ve received many compliments on it this evening. Thank you.”

He moved closer and placed his hand under the table onto her thigh. She jerked only a moment but was caught up in his eyes.

It is Deacon. Does he know it’s me, or is he here to live out his own fantasy?

Caught between the thought of running or seeing where this opportunity would go, she decided that she wouldn’t let him know that it was her. Nor would she let him know that she recognized him. So why was she feeling like a criminal right now?

Perhaps because she’d come here looking for one thing. Sex. He would know that. She’d also gained the knowledge of learning that Eduardo was here, too. She should really look for Armando and try to get her own look at Eduardo.

“What is your fantasy, my lady in red?” he whispered as he caressed her thigh. Despite the abundance of material lying over her flesh, it seemed that her body immediately recognized Deacon’s touch. He licked his lower lip, and she felt it against her pussy.

“Fantasy?”

“Yes. It’s why you’re here. It’s why everyone comes here.”

He scooted his chair closer, and then reached up to caress his thumb on the small bit of skin on her chin.

The feel of him caressing her, while his other hand moved over her thigh, as he stared at her, was nearly too much to handle. That’s when she felt the second set of hands on her shoulders, then the tall, large presence behind her.

“I see you met our lady in red.” The voice was nearly identical to Deacon’s. She looked up and saw the man in black who had danced with her earlier and saved her from the group of men. His lips were firm, his eyes dark blue, surrounded by the black beneath the mask. She looked up at him and absorbed the feel of his hands on her shoulders. She closed her eyes, and imagined who was behind the mask.

L.T.

“I have, and I must say, she is everything I have been looking for.”

She looked at Deacon, as he leaned closer and whispered against her neck. She felt his warm breath, and then his lips.

“You smell incredible. Let us fulfill your fantasy while you fulfill ours.”

Mariah felt the effects of his words, his warm breath beneath her skin, traveling to her breasts. She parted her lips as L.T. took position on the other side of her.

“Tell me your fantasy. Why are you here this evening?”

This was it. Could she take the opportunity to let them know she wanted a ménage? That she longed to be made love to by four men? That she was willing to let them do as they please, as long as they claimed her as their woman?

Or should she continue to play this out as a fantasy, and allow them to believe that she didn’t know who they really were. Could she pretend to be what she thought they wanted? A mature, experienced woman, instead of a sweet, innocent virgin unprepared for the carnal act of sex with multiple men?

She took a deep breath and turned toward L.T.

“I have many fantasies. The night is young, and there are so many people to meet.”

Playing hard to get never hurt anyone. I can do this. I can be sexy, sophisticated, and even pretend experienced, if it will allow these four men to open themselves up to me. If it helps them to believe that I don’t really know who they are, then so be it.

> Deacon pressed his hand toward the back of her neck in a very dominant and sexy way. Armando had not compared at all to the emotions and desire Deacon caused to run through her body like an out of control train.

“There are no more people to meet. Your fate lies with us,” he whispered with his lips close to hers. His hand remained controlling her neck, as his lips descended upon her lips. She dare not reach for him, to touch him in any way, or she would explode right here in the chair. Deacon did that to her. The four men of her dreams ignited flames of desire through her like no others. Tonight would have been a mistake and a disappointment to give her virginity to a stranger. Yet the idea of Deacon and L.T. wearing masks and trying to seduce her was very appealing.

* * * *

Deacon couldn’t believe how turned on he was. Mariah did it to him. Her dress, her sexy body, the breathless way she whispered her responses. She was ripe, ready to be taken, and they could have her. He could have her as he always wanted. She didn’t know that it was them, or she was pretending that she didn’t. Perhaps this was a way for them all to truly reveal their desires. Maybe the masks could give L.T., Axel, Quentin, and even himself, the confidence they needed. Perhaps even the security they so very much had become dependent upon, by being somewhat anonymous.

Either way, the feel of her lips, the scent of Mariah’s perfume, and the fact that she’d so brazenly come to the masquerade, made his head spin and his dick hard. He wanted her naked and underneath him. He wanted to get lost inside of her.

He slowly pulled his lips from hers and then trailed light kisses along her delicate neck. L.T. lifted the palm of her hand to his lips. Deacon watched as he gently kissed her delicate wrists, while Mariah stared at L.T.

“Your skin tastes incredible. I bet your cream is just as delicious,” he told her and she made a small gasp. But she didn’t pull away.