Page 22 of Unmasked

Through the thin wool of his tuxedo trousers, he was hard. And long. And thick. Perfect. It was like he’d been created with pleasure in mind. Lainey’s heart skipped a beat. She was really going to do this—have sex with her best friend’s older brother in the back of a limo while he had no idea who she was.

A chord of unrest struck her, sending tiny pulses of worry through her system. The downside of this situation—of her carrying out her mission perfectly—was that he was willing to sleep with her without knowing a thing about her.

Are you really complaining because you’re about to get everything you set out for?

“Why did you agree to this?” she asked, immediately cursing herself for ruining the mood. “With me?”

“Do you mean because we’re strangers?” He removed her hand from his crotch and ran his palms over her shoulders and arms, caressing her. Soothing her. “Because you’re beautiful and interesting. Mysterious. Do you want me to try harder to convince you to take off your mask?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped. What did she want?

“I’m not in the habit of sleeping with anyone who offers, in case that thought is dancing through your mind.” He held her hands. “And I can’t quite explain it, but I feel like I know you even though I don’t. There’s something about you that has me quite...”

Lainey looked up, smirking. “Aroused?”

“Yes, but I was going to say ‘enraptured.’”

Enraptured.The word summed up everything she’d always wanted to be to him but never was.

Lainey, the crazy magnet. She’d thought once that being wild and impulsive meant she was interesting, but one day she woke up and realised that it exhausted people. But without that persona, who was she? The doubt had plagued her while she made her plans to leave Australia, the little demons in her head telling her to start over. To try her hand at being someone else. Maybe this time she would get it right.

“I don’t think I’ve ever enraptured anyone before,” she whispered.

“I sincerely doubt that.”

The shocking thing was, he sounded sincere. But he didn’t know who was behind the mask, so he couldn’t possibly mean it. It was lip service. Superficial. Words to keep the night moving along so he could get what they’d agreed to. Sex.

“You know all the right things to say.” She shoved the worries aside and planted her hands against his chest. “Now I guess it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

* * *

If Damian’s cock was any harder, he’d be at serious risk of busting the zipper on his trousers. Which would make returning them an interesting experience. Although he already owed Aaron an explanation after he’d quietly demanded that he and Jessie play along with Damian’s “fiancée.”

Yeah, in the scheme of things, a busted zipper was the least of his problems.

The redhead pulled her dress back into place and shimmied down his body, dropping to her knees at his feet. Between the sight of that smooth porcelain skin, the pressure of her hands on his thighs and her glossy lips parting in anticipation...oh, hell. He’d be carrying this image to the grave.

He’d meant what he said earlier. It did feel like he knew the redhead, like they had some existing bond, but that was impossible.

She reached for his zipper and drew it down. Damian shifted his hips so she could pull his pants and jocks down to his ankles. He probably looked ridiculous in a stuffy tuxedo jacket and mask, naked from the waist down, but he wasn’t physically able to give a fuck at that point. All that mattered now was the anticipation of having the redhead’s lips wrapped around him.

“Do you want it?” She looked up at him, eyes huge from the extreme angle.

She looked doll-like, with lips glistening and open, waiting for him. She hovered, teasing, testing.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then take it.”

He growled on hearing his words come from her lips.

She didn’t move, she simply opened her mouth and stuck her tongue forward in invitation. He drove between her lips in a single, smooth thrust, and she closed around him tightly. The hot wetness consumed him and stars danced behind his shuttered lids as he gave himself over.

Both hands burrowed into her hair, controlling the bobbing motion of her head. It was pure, unadulterated bliss. With each flick of her tongue, each stroke, he grew closer. Pressure built at the base of his cock.

“Christ,” he gasped. “Those sweet lips feel so fucking good.”

He tried to pull back but she held him tight, the snug ring of her mouth sending dizzying shock waves through him. He hovered for what felt like eternity before she pulled back at the last minute, leaving him desperate and wanting.

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