Page 77 of Beautiful Beast

Erik tells me we’re going to a masquerade ball.

“For what? And why?” I ask over the breakfast table. Ever since he told me he was sorry, I’ve found that being around him is easier. More steady. Less worried all the time.

“It’s a charity function. It’s a good way to promote a good cause and spend my money without the police looking in my direction.”

I stare at him a moment longer. “You mean money laundering, don’t you? You money launder through this charity organization.”

He flashes me a grin before turning back to his phone. “We don’t need to get into the specifics. It’s just good that I show up. And I thought it could be fun. Who doesn’t love a masquerade ball?”

“Why do I get this sense that this could go wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong, Anya. If anything does, I’ll be there to protect you.”

“Because you care about me?”

He only smiles once more before getting up from the table. It’s not an answer, and it probably never will be. But I think I’m starting to crack Erik’s hard shell, which gives me hope.

I find multiple dresses laid out in our bedroom. All evening gowns. All expensive. All gorgeous. And of course, all in my size.

I land on a red gown that hugs my body and flares out slightly around my ankles. It’s sleeveless and shows a bit of cleavage while still being classy. A golden eye mask matches perfectly with it.

When I come downstairs, I find Erik waiting in the foyer wearing a black suit and a red mask over his eyes.

“How does this work as a masquerade ball if I know who you are?” I ask.

He doesn’t say a word until I’m standing right before him. “You look delectable tonight, Anya. I could eat you right up.”

I gulp. I don’t doubt he could.

The masquerade ball is being held at a museum. Tables decorate the floors while art decorates the walls. A large podium at the front of the main gallery has a microphone on it, ready for people to give speeches.

The air in the room is electric with at least a hundred people already here, wearing masks, drinking champagne, and flirting with each other.

I know better than to get drunk tonight like I last time. I’m not in the mood to be spanked.

Erik keeps my arm snuggly fitted in his own. All I can think about is his touch—how it makes my skin feel like it’s on fire. How I want to feel more.

He’s barely touched me since the vibrator incident. Little touches to my back and arms and things like that. A small kiss here and there, but nothing more. He awoke something inside me with the pain and pleasure he showed me.

I want more, but I’ll have to be the one to go for it, and I’m not sure I can fully give myself over to him. To do that would be to give Erik complete power over me.

“So, what does this charity do?” I ask as we meander around the room.

“Raises funds for the arts.”

“Not kids with cancer?”

“Even I’m not going to steal money from kids with cancer.”

I actually smile at that. “So, you have a line. What are you not willing to cross?”

“I don’t beat women, as you know.”

“You only spank them.”

His grin is dangerous. Mixed with his red mask, it makes him look like the devil. “True. I’m not opposed to torturing women if they deserve it, but I don’t make a point of beating women if they don’t. I don’t hurt kids. That’s a line I won’t cross.”

“Nadia—”

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