Page 23 of Ella's Masquerade
I followed as he led, my legs and torso moving as if under a spell of my past life. Memories of my mother whirled through my mind, just as they had outside ofLa Scala. Only, it wasn’t pain I felt this time, but freedom.
I’m dancing, I marveled, temporarily suspended in a frame of mind I hadn’t felt in so, so long. How Tray maneuvered me into this position, I couldn’t say. But now that I was here, I didn’t want to leave.
I felt alive.
Like a bird soaring through the sky.
Flying.
Free.
He picked up our pace, matching the rhythm of the song beautifully and turning me at all the right moments. His hands expertly led mine, his footing a master of perfection, and I lost myself to the music. Gave in to Tray and his expert skill. Allowing myself to forget the cruel world around us, to pretend we thrived in another world entirely.
His palms were a brand against my waist, then my hips, and on my lower back. I felt possessed by him, owned utterly by the fluttering of sound guiding our steps. He dipped me to the ground and back up, my chest heaving against his own, as the sound of applause pierced my ears.
Smoldering dark brown irises held mine.
No smile.
No amusement.
Just an intensity that nearly burned me alive.
I swallowed, uncertain of how this all happened. It was as if he’d woven a spell over me, controlling my actions and dissolving my hesitation.
His fingers trailed up my spine to caress the back of my neck while his opposite hand settled on my hip. “Now they see the real you, Ella,” he whispered. “A glistening jewel in a sea of darkness.”
I blinked at him. “You say the strangest things to me.”
“And I’ve only gotten started, sweetheart.” His mouth settled over mine so quickly that I didn’t understand what he was doing until his tongue parted my lips.
The world froze around me.
Because that brush of his mouth in the hallway before was nothing compared tothis. He kissed me as if his life depended on mine to survive. I couldn’t breathe beneath the intensity, theownershipof his touch.
Some part of me knew to fight.
While the other part sighed at the rightness of his caress.
I’m going insane.
I shouldn’t be embracing him, yet I was. Vigorously, too. I even had my fingers in his hair. My damn body taking charge without my mind’s permission. But I was too wrapped up in his touch to stop it, everything and everyone lost to the white noise of my thoughts.
His tongue moved against mine with the same skill he’d used to guide me around the dance floor, hypnotizing me into submitting.
A loud ding sent a jolt down my spine, drawing me back to reality like a slap across my face. It came from a clock somewhere in the ballroom, announcing the time.Midnight.
My eyes slid open to find a circle around us.
Just like that night freshman year.
Dread pooled in my belly.
A foreboding sensation crawling across my skin.
Tray smiled at someone over my shoulder, and my heart stopped.Three, two…
“Well, this looks cozy,” Ryan said from behind me. “I barely even recognized you, Cindersoot. What with the makeover and all.”
