Callum watched her as she navigated the room. She seemed to be looking for someone—him—but tried to act as natural as one could while wandering a sex club. Elizabeth still had the fluid movements he remembered, the gracefulness. However, she looked uneasy tonight. Was it because of her time away? Or the environ?

Either way, now that he had her within reach, Callum realized he had no idea how to approach her.

If he simply went up to her, she’d know he’d planned tonight, despite Donald and Henrietta being the architects behind this. But he absolutely refused to allow another to approach her.

Elizabeth looked utterly stunning this evening. The bodice of her cream colored gown hugged her curves. Held securely in place, the masque covered her features, but complimented the darkness of her hair. It all added an air of mystique and innocence to her. An air not normally found in the Hellfire Club.

It was her, he’d know her body anywhere; know her walk, the tilt of her head. When she stopped and gazed around the room, Callum knew her fingers would pleat the skirt of her gown as she always had when studying an object that particularly interested her.

Taking a deep breath, he followed her.

She paused and eased into another room. Callum followed, careful to keep his distance lest he scare her off. He doubted she’d been to a ball in over a year, but then there were other aspects of tonight’s gala that he believed she’d never seen.

Elizabeth stopped and tilted her head to the left. When he followed her gaze, Callum saw she studied a ménage a trois in a corner, the two men and one woman energetically enjoying themselves. Callum crept closer, watching Elizabeth watch them.

Her breath caught and one hand drifted over the plunging décolletage of her gown, skimming the tops of her breasts, and he knew the sight aroused her. Tearing his gaze from his lover, Callum looked to the trio in the corner. They shared a tender moment that seemed to surprise Elizabeth, her shock evident even beneath the masque.

A tall man, clad in fine silk and a dark blue half-masque veered for her.

Callum reached Elizabeth’s side before the other man, who accepted this with an equitable shrug and disappeared into the crowd.

She turned then, nearly running into him. He could tell she was flustered, her breathing came heavy and her chest and neck held the faint tint of a blush. “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a grin.

Thanks to the crowd tonight, his voice echoed oddly in his ears. Glad for it, he wondered if she’d recognize him then instantly dismissed that thought. Of course she would. He watched her intently, not seeing the gold filigree of her masque but the softness of her skin, the fullness of her lips.

“I was quite taken by the sight as well,” Callum added. “This is the first Hellfire Club gala I’ve attended. I hazard a guess this is your first as well.”

Elizabeth looked at him, meeting his gaze. Even behind her masque her hazel eyes flashed with a hint of violet. “Yes,” she agreed, voice husky. “But I fear I’ve made a mistake in coming tonight.”

Callum’s heart stopped. Fighting the panic her statement created, he was suddenly glad for the masque that covered his features. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, gallantly kissing the back of her un-gloved hand.

“No,” he protested, keeping his voice light. “It can’t be a mistake if we encountered each other. Tonight is a night of pleasure and fantasy. A night to lose yourself with another.”

The violet of her eyes deepened, and Callum knew it was in arousal. She kept her hand in his, fingers tightening just the slightest.

“But what if I can’t find my way back?” she inquired, voice still husky. Enticing.

“I’ll guide you,” Callum promised.

His patience with this game teetered at an end, and Callum wanted to tear off her masque and take her from here. But he also didn’t want to scare her, and knew that masque, and the anonymity of it, kept her here.

He ran his fingers along her exposed shoulder, down her arm and felt her shiver through the thin material of her gown. Restraining himself, Callum didn’t take a bolder step and caress the tops of her breasts, no matter how her body tempted him.

Elizabeth hesitated, but Callum knew her well enough to know she was also tempted. She looked to the side, took a step back. Tensed to keep her with him should she decide to flee, Callum waited. He didn’t know what she searched for, or what she saw in this room, but the seconds dragged by as she hesitated.

Callum could feel the arousal dance along her skin, but stayed quiet. She had to be the one to make up her mind, no matter how he wanted her, he’d never force her.

Suddenly she stepped closer and stood on tiptoe.

“Yes.”

Slipping her hand through the crock of his arm, Callum led her from the room and through the winding halls of the Club. He didn’t look at the members engaging in their own activities, but followed the route Henrietta had taken him earlier.

Unlocking the door, he led her inside before securely locking the room once more.

Her skin was as soft as he recalled, warm with the closeness of the Club. Callum slipped his hand around her neck, but then remembered the masques and stopped. Instead he traced the line of her shoulder.

“You must promise me you’ll not attempt to remove my masque.” Her voice was quiet even in the privacy of their room, and he knew she tried to disguise it from him.

He wasn’t going to argue with her, he understood her need for secrecy, but played his part of the anonymous lover.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, moving so his breath fanned across the sensitive side of her neck. “I want to run my lips along yours.”

Elizabeth stiffened in his embrace and looked up at him. “Promise me,” she insisted. “Or I shall leave.”

Callum nodded in agreement and she relaxed. He’d agree to anything for her to stay in his arms. He walked her a step backwards, closer to the bed, and she didn’t protest. Still touching her, he held onto his control as tightly as he could and ran his hands down her arms, cupping her shoulders, fingers grazing the tops of her breasts.

She started, not in fear but in arousal. Taking his hands in hers, she leaned closer. “Let me indulge.”

He nodded, wondering what she planned. But then Elizabeth knelt before him, and one item at a time disrobed him. Callum fisted his hands at his sides as she did so, his need for her exploding with every delicate touch.

First his shoes, then his breeches, slowly she peeled them off, the coolness of her masque just grazing his skin. Up his inner thigh as she urged him to step from his pants. She lightly stroked his cock, circling the head in a teasing move that had Callum jerking, once, against her touch.

Her tongue peeked out of the masque, but she didn’t taste him.

His heart pounded and it hurt to breathe, but Callum stayed utterly still as Elizabeth’s hands glided up his legs, over his hips. Her delicate fingers untied his shirt, and when she tugged the fine material from his shoulders, she leaned in.

She didn’t kiss him, the masque made that almost impossible, but the press of her body to his, the feel of her hands on him drove Callum to the brink. He ached to bury himself in her wet heat, to feel her around him.

Clenching his jaw, Callum breathed through his mouth and waited through her tortuously thorough exploration of his body.

Elizabeth leaned closer as if to kiss him as she stood, the touch of the masque light against his skin.

Callum snapped.

He’d waited over a year to find her, to feel her in his arms. Now that she stood so close to him, her body enticing in the sheer gown, her hands arousing every inch of him, he could no longer hold himself back.

Lifting her against him, mindful of their masques, Callum carried her to the bed.

****

Elizabeth struggled to breathe. When Callum lifted her, his hard body pressed to hers, she wound her arms about his neck and held tight.

She had been right. This had been a mistake. One she wouldn’t change for the world.

Callum stood her by the bed and quickly disrobed her. The dress fell in a cream colored pool at her feet, and he lifted her out of the material, tugging the chemise over her head to join the discarded gown.

His hands teased her in all the places he knew she liked. Running over her breasts and pinching her nipples, his fingers brushed along her sensitive inner thighs, and Elizabeth’s breath caught. Her blood pounded in her ears and she couldn’t help it when her head fell back, her legs widened.

He laid her on the bed, and she regretted her decree of wearing their masques. Elizabeth desperately wanted to feel his mouth on her body, to taste his skin. To kiss him.

He slipped a finger into her, and Elizabeth cried out at the touch. It had been so long, but wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted more, wanted to feel him moving inside her. He inserted a second finger, and Elizabeth nearly jerked off the bed.

Her orgasm teetered just out of reach, and she strained for it, moving against him, fingers curling into the bedding. It had been so long since she’d felt his touch, since they’d made love and Callum teased her, forcing her orgasm higher and higher. Elizabeth doubted her ability to control her own body—every bit of her ached to feel Callum move within her.

Callum continued to tease her, light touches along the sides of her breasts, the back of her knees. She forced her eyes open and saw him watching her, the brown of his gaze nearly black with his arousal. Elizabeth saw the temptation to tear his masque off, and wanted him to. Wanted to give into what they’d once shared, what they now did again.

But his control, always impressive, seemed indomitable now. He shook his head, and she saw a vein pound in his temple.

Elizabeth ran her hands down his chest, over his lean hips, and teased the tip of his cock. Her action snapped Callum’s restraint.

He entered her in one hard thrust, and she screamed her pleasure. Elizabeth wound her legs about his hips and met him thrust for thrust. Her nails dug into his back, and she urged him faster.

Her climax slammed through her, and still she wanted more. This wasn’t enough, one time, one night, would never be enough with Callum.

Yes, Elizabeth thought as he moved harder, lifting her hips from the bed, a low growl vibrating from his chest. Yes this had been a mistake. The best one she’d ever made.

Pleasure crashed against pleasure, and Elizabeth cried out again, unable to breathe, unable to think. Only feel.

Callum continued to move, but she knew her lover and knew he, too, was close. With a growl that went straight through her, he climaxed. He didn’t pull out, as he had in the past, and Elizabeth held on more fiercely.

He fell to the side, instantly gathering her to him. Elizabeth settled against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The masque felt clammy against her face, but she didn’t remove it. Thin though it might be, it was the only defense she had against Callum.

How was she ever going to let him go?