Chapter 7

I woke up alone in Christien’s bed. He’d left me another note:

'I’ll be back in time for the Masquerade Ball tonight. I will meet you at your hotel.'

I felt like I had a hangover again, this time a bad one. I opened the curtains. Sunlight streamed in, blinding me. It was painful; I needed aspirin, Tylenol, something…

The last night had been some night. Between the two of them, Christien and Quillon, they were determined to exhaust me with pleasure. Then that dream—if it was a dream. Damn. I felt thoroughly fucked, in that good, “I had lots of sex” way. I couldn’t think of a more ladylike way to explain it.

The dreams were getting more intense. This time he had been inside me—with cock and fangs. I twitched, remembering the sensation of his cold cock buried in me and those smooth fangs sliding into my neck. It had felt so real. I’d held him, I’d felt him, but I still had not seen his face in the darkness. Why was he so elusive?

Mon coeur est `a vous. My heart is yours. That is what Quillon had said to me in the dream. My chest felt tight and heavy, and I trembled. No man had ever said such sweet and loving words to me.

I ached with need. With lust. Desire. Perhaps…love?

I took a cold shower to soothe my hot and sore flesh. The shower had a head attached to a hose. I sprayed the cold water between my legs, enjoying the way it streamed and pulsated over my swollen lips. Instead of calming me down, it increased my arousal. I adjusted the stream to make it pump harder, and I used my other hand to slide two fingers inside my bruised flesh.

I masturbated, thinking about Quillon’s skillful hands and Christien’s adept tongue probing between my thighs. I got off thinking about both of them making love to me at the same time.

The shower left me feeling refreshed, but still horny as hell. I had never had two lovers at the same time before. I gathered my things, then went to my hotel room to get my costume ready for that evening. I ordered breakfast from room service and devoured everything. I felt ravenous. I guess lots of sex can do that to a person. I wished it was time to go to the ball. I had to find something to occupy my time until 6:00 p.m. when I would start getting ready for the Masquerade Ball.

Every nerve ending on my body felt like it was wired with electricity, and I was ready to jump out of my skin. Every move I made was erotically charged. I undressed and lay down on the bed. The softness of the fabric caressed my body. I was floating on a sensual cloud. I did not know what was going on; my body ached to be touched, to be filled, to be thoroughly fucked over and over again. I was under Quillon’s dream spell. He left me so full of desire, it was driving me insane.

I got up and rummaged around in my suitcase until I found my vibrating friend and a bottle of lubricant. Searching for Quillon and investigating other paranormal happenings usually did not give me much of a chance for a social life, so I always carried my big purple friend with me wherever I went.

I lay back down on the bed and trailed the smooth dildo across my flesh, running it between my breasts and down my stomach. I grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted a little on the head. I parted my legs and shoved the dildo into my waiting pussy. The dildo was huge, and I loved the way it stretched me wide open. It gave me the double sensation of pleasure and punishment. My head fell back against the pillow, and I closed my eyes, imagining it was Quillon thrusting inside me. Orgasm after orgasm rippled through me.

I heard a noise and opened my eyes. The room was gray and hazy. When did it get dark, I wondered. I must have fallen asleep. As I looked around the room, I noticed a dark figure standing by the door. Quillon, I thought. Then he moved into the lamplight; it was Christien. I quickly closed my legs and moved to cover the dildo, but he had already seen it. I felt a surge of embarrassment, but it disappeared quickly as arousal took its place.

“I see you missed me,” he said with a grin. “You should get ready for the ball if you don’t want to miss it.”

I looked outside and noticed it was completely dark. Somehow, I had lost track of the time. Wasn’t there time for a quickie? I looked at him longingly. Damn, he was so hot!

I took a shower while Christien watched. I seductively lathered up with soap, and rubbed myself in all the right spots, hoping to lure him into the shower with me. No luck; he just rushed me along.

I stepped out of the shower, dripping with water and desire. I could feel his eyes on me. I knew he wanted me, but he wasn’t biting. As he dried me off with a towel, I felt my body tingle with need. I knew he was aroused too, but we both wanted to get to the ball, so I tried to ignore it. If we made love, we would never make it to the ball on time, and I couldn’t risk missing Quillon.

After blow-drying my hair, he helped cover my body with silver glitter. Every stroke of his fingers on my skin was sheer torture. I wanted to push him down on the bathroom floor and ride him wildly, but I kept myself in check. Christien went into the other room to get changed while I applied my cosmetics and arranged my hair into long, flowing waves. I slid into my sheer black dress and wings, then went into the other room.

“Wow! You look amazing,” I said to him. He was wearing a ruffled, peasant-style shirt open to mid-chest, exposing his rippling muscles. He was wearing tight black pants and tall riding boots. He looked like someone straight out of the Victorian age. Just looking at him made heat rush between my legs. Why did he have to be so handsome? His long, black hair hung in loose waves around his finely-chiseled features. His full lips curved into a dazzling smile as he looked me up and down.

“You are a winged goddess,” he said. “That dress hugs you in all the right places.” As he kept looking me up and down, his eyes widened. He looked up at me and said, “You aren’t wearing any underwear. I can see your bare flesh. My little sex goddess is being naughty tonight.” He laughed and pulled me close. His strong, masculine scent practically overpowered me with desire. Passion was building inside me, and I didn’t know how long I could control it.

“I didn’t want anything in the way tonight, in case we decide to indulge ourselves in a secluded garden again,” I purred against his chest, almost hoping he would take advantage of me right then. He didn’t. He broke our embrace and grabbed his jacket. Damn.

“We’d better get going, or we will never make it to the ball.”

I grabbed my mask and my bag, and we were out the door.