Page 101 of Danger

I arch a brow behind my mask, letting my fingers trace the lapel of his jacket. “You say that like you’re about to devour me.”

“Is that a problem?” He nudges the tip of my mask up just enough so his lips can press against my jawline, then trail a fiery line down my neck. The small contact draws a gasp from me.

“Not even close,” I manage between breaths, my eyes fluttering. I tilt my head to the side to grant him access. Each brush of his mouth sends heat rolling through my body. The plush carpet under my heels, the silky drapery behind me—it all seems to fade, replaced by the crescendoing throb of my heartbeat.

Danger’s mouth finds mine before I can speak again, and his kiss is more searing than usual, as though the pulse of the entire evening has fueled his desire. I kiss him back fiercely, tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair and forgetting for a moment that we’re at a public event. The promise of anonymity behind these masks emboldens me. I can taste the faint hint of champagne on his lips, sweet and dangerous all at once. Our bodies press together, and a little sound escapes my throat.

“Monterey,” he whispers against my lips, “I’ve been dreaming about this all night.”

I chuckle breathlessly, brushing his lower lip with my thumb. “You and me both.”

He takes my wrist, guiding my hand to the back of his neck. “I want to make you feel how much I’ve missed you, even when we were only a couple feet apart on that dance floor.”

I open my mouth to respond, but his next kiss steals the words. He palms my hips, his grip urgent, yet careful, the warmth of his hands seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. We’re hidden enough to indulge in a deeper kind of passion without prying eyes, but the underlying risk is there. The possibility that someone might wander by and see us in this compromising moment is a thrill all on its own.

I break the kiss, chest rising and falling in quick succession, and let out a quiet laugh. “What if someone?—?”

Danger answers by trailing his fingers up my sides, stroking my bare arms. “We’re at a masquerade, sweetheart. Everyone’s disguised, no one really cares. Let’s just… take a moment.”

I don’t need more convincing. He leans down to tease the shell of my ear with his teeth, and I arch against him. Our bodies are a tangle of limbs and urgent breaths. The distant strains of music from the ballroom occasionally swell, reminding me of our earlier dance. Part of me wants to drag him right back to that dance floor, just so everyone can see how I come alive in his arms—but the other part desperately wants this secrecy, this stolen interlude.

He anchors me against the wall, pressing a gentle knee between mine. “Tonight’s been perfect,” he murmurs, lips traveling to the curve of my neck. “But it’s always you, Monterey. You make the moment.”

I thread my arms around his neck, melting into his warmth. “I love you, Dylan.” My voice shakes with desire, a throaty confession.

In response, he kisses me again, more slowly this time. His lips part mine with languid precision, drawing out soft moans. Every nerve in my body seems to stand at attention for him. Even the friction of my dress against his suit sets fire to my skin. I curl my fingers into the collar of his jacket, trying to pull him even closer.

He breaks away, breathing heavily, his forehead touching mine. “We should—” he begins, but stops. “We should get back… eventually.”

I let out a shaky laugh, still dizzy from the taste of him. “Eventually.” My lipstick is probably smudged, but I hardly care. My heart is hammering with a pounding euphoria, and I know my cheeks must be flushed. Even behind the mask, I feel wildly exposed, in the best possible way.

He unzips his pants, and then pushes my dress up. “I need you right now.”

My fingers curl into his hair as he slams into my with one punishing thrust. I can’t believe we’re doing this right here. Anyone could walk by. But that’s Danger for you. He doesn’t care. He lives in the moment. Always.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. “So fucking good.” He keeps pushing into me, our breaths mingling together.

“Ah, Danger,” I whisper out so nobody can overhear us.

“Your tight pussy has a good grip of my cock. Make me come, Monterey. Please, make me come.”

Hearing him beg me turns me on more than I already am. The thrill and excitement that anybody could walk by at this very moment makes it all that much more enticing.

He keeps me pinned to the wall, his hips bucking into me at a rapid pace. His hands are firm, holding me in place as he continues to fuck me with reckless abandon.

“Oh, Danger,” I moan out, my body terrifyingly close to coming undone. He loves it when I call him Danger. When I open my eyes I can see the many people scattered all over the ballroom. None of them pay us any attention, but it makes my heart beat faster knowing we could be seen at any moment.

Danger must sense this because his lips curl into a smile. “You like this, don’t you?”

“You know I do,” I say back. This isn’t the first time Danger and I have made out in public, but still every time feels like the first time.

My body builds and builds, my orgasm blooming just out of reach. Danger lifts one hand, wrapping it around my neck, squeezing gently.

“I need to make my wife come,” he whispers across my lips. “Come for me, wife. Before I scream out and gather an audience.”

My eyes widen as an audible gasp escapes my lips.

Danger smiles wider. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me fucking you in front of an audience?”

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