Page 3 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

Most here are not wallflowers who prefer to read rather than socialize,” she replied, the quip coming off her tongue so fast it surprised her. Not ever before had she revealed anything of her real life to anyone here. Yet within five minutes of speaking with this man she was telling secrets.

I am out of practice with this game, she mused silently.

But Cernunnos only chuckled and shook his head with amusement.

“And tell me, wallflower, what do ye go by here?” He asked, taking another step toward her.

“Calypso,” she replied.

“Ah,” he remarked. “I should have known. The daughter of the Titan, Atlas. Known for her beauty and mischief.”

A giggle broke from Theo’s lips, enjoyment seeping through her body and washing the tension from earlier away. Cernunnos looked at her is if he enjoyed the sound and took another step toward her.

“Tell me something, Calypso,” he implored, swirling the wine in his glass. “What brings you here?”

Theo shrugged.

“I suppose the same reasons that bring you here,” she replied.

“Nay,” he chuckled, “I came for a wee dally with a free-minded lass. But you?”

He paused, shaking his head.

“I’ve watched ye since ye arrived, and ye’ve only danced and conversed. Flirtatiously, I’ll give ye that,” he added the last bit with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with approval, “I could be wrong, but I dinnae think ye be the type of lass to go farther than that.”

Theo looked down at her wine, feeling uncomfortable with how easily he had read her.

“What if I am, um, the sort of ‘lass’ that prefers a dance and conversation before getting to more decadent matters?” She asked.

“Are ye?” He asked quickly, his head tilting with curiosity.

She let out a light laugh, raised the glass to her lips, but didn’t look back at his eyes.

“I suppose not,” she confessed, “But the rules of the Masquerade dictate that I am allowed to choose how far I want to go.”

“As they should,” Cernunnos said with a nod, “But I ask ye, why do that here, when you can have dancing and conversing at any ball?”

She shifted her eyes to him as he took a long, studying look over her body, noting how he lightly grazed his teeth over his bottom lip as he did so. She suddenly pictured those lips grazing over her navel, and her cheeks flushed.

“Ye are nobility.” He went on, starting to walk a slow circle around her. “I can see it in the way ye hold yourself. Hear it in the way ye speak. Ye be the type of woman that can command. A true lady. Yet ye think of yourself as a wallflower. So, I ask ye again, why de ye come here?”

Theo’s nerves began to hum with discomfort. No man had ever paid such close attention to her. Not at the masquerade or the countless balls or parties she’d attended with the ton.

“Ye were not afraid to go toe-to-toe with that fool on the dance floor, but now ye shy away from a question?” He asked, his smirk returning. “Aye, ye are a fascinating lass.”

Theo tried to fight the smile that tugged at her lips, but it broke free along with a laugh.

“I like the masks,” she confessed, then stroked her hand down her dress. “I like the fashion, better, too. I can be wild, free here. I do not need to be prim or well-behaved. I do not need to endure gossip with a sweet smile. Here I can just … be.”

Cernunnos studied her quietly, some emotion she could not identify shifting through his dark eyes.

“Ye wish to be free.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” she breathed, then cleared her throat as another bout of startling honesty took over her.

“In our society I am not deemed good enough in many ways. I am the well-named wallflower. And I think my peers prefer that of me.”

“Why?” Cernunnos asked.

“The way I think. The way I look.”

“I dinnae see anything wrong with the way ye, look, Calypso,” he retorted quickly, his eyes raking down her body again. “I would even venture to say that your body is perfect. Far better than any other woman possesses.”

Heat washed through Theo’s body at the blatant compliment, but her fingers moved to brush the bottom of her mask.

“That is because you cannot see my face, Sir,” she replied. She then slowly lowered her fingertips, letting them brush against the fabric of her skirts. “It is … scarred.”

“Oh, I doubt very seriously that truly matters, dear lady,” Cernunnos replied, his deep voice somehow reaching a deeper note that spoke volumes of sincerity.

“Then it is a relief to both of us you shall never see it,” she replied, hoping her voice did not give insight to the spark of desire that sizzled through her veins at his words and voice.

“I do not wish to speak of this anymore,” she went on, setting down her wine glass.

Cernunnos mimicked her action, the steps he took toward the table bringing him to her and closing the space between them.

“I will concede.” he replied, his dark eyes searching hers, “But know that I am still vastly curious about ye.”

“I am no one of importance, truly,” she rasped, feeling herself fall into the thrall of his penetrative gaze.

“Perhaps ye have just surrounded yourself with the wrong people,” Cernunnos murmured.

His hand extended slowly toward the line of her jaw, giving her time to step back as she wished--but she didn’t, and her breath caught in her throat as his large fingers grazed ever so gently across the edged plane of flesh.

Theo had been touched and caressed and moved in many ways as she’d danced.

She’d even sat in a lap or two when her mind was most in tatters, when her mother’s health dissolved into chaos, and yet Cernunno’s touch, that light stroke of just two of his fingers, had her heart pulsing and her legs growing weak.

This was the feeling she’d been chasing at the Masquerade, what she’d been hoping for with every visit. A feeling that shut down her thoughts and made her body turn to liquid. A longing for more pushed her forward, and she let herself lean into Cernunno’s much larger frame.

Warmth enveloped her as his arms came readily around her, one around her waist, the other moving the back of her neck.

He was so tall he not only had to lean down but lift her up to meet his lips.

He brushed his own across hers softly once, twice, then murmured something in a language she could not understand.

Theo found she did not care, what he said, only knowing that she liked the way it sounded.

His voice was rough, and thick, and deep, and it echoed into her like none other ever had before.

She wanted to take that voice and somehow drink it, as if it were some magic elixir that could right everything that felt so wrong.

Theo slid her hands over his chest, reveling in the warmth and hardness she found, and gripped her fingertips around his lapels.

She did not have to tug at the fabric or even speak to convey what she wanted.

Cernunnos once again seemed to know, and he answered her silent plea by taking full possession of her lips and kissing her deeply.

Heat poured into her loins as a rainbow of stars bloomed behind her closed eyes when his lips, so surprisingly soft, coaxed hers to part further, and his tongue slid sensually between them.

She whimpered as she tasted him, a mixture of something deeply honeyed and alcoholic.

Far sweeter than the wine, but nowhere near as bitter as whiskey or ale.

She felt herself relax further into his embrace and sighed as she timidly touched her tongue to his wanting more.

She was rewarded with a cacophony of sensations.

Cernunnos’ grip on her grew tighter; a deep groan poured from his throat and what she had thought was his muscled thigh nestled between her dangling legs suddenly pulsed and rubbed against her throbbing core.

She moaned in response, her hips instantly jerking to meet that pulsing again, but her skirts stopped her.

Once more seeming to know what she wished for, Cernunnos lowered his hand from her neck to her skirts, and with one powerful yank he got them free.

Something feral took over Theo as they continued to kiss.

She moved her legs, wrapping them around his waist as her hands slid from his lapels to lock around his neck.

More. More. More. Give in. Give in. Give in.

She wanted to. She would have.

Until she felt her mask being lifted away.

Cernunnos’ hand had been roaming freely, petting her body into a sublime submission.

She did not know where they went or what they stroked, only that pleasure roiled from every touch.

So, when she felt her mask shift at first, she did not think it could possibly be his hand that was lifting it away and touched her fingers to it to straighten it.

When her fingers met his, terror rose up inside of her and shattered the erotic spell.

Theo broke away from the kiss, cheeks flushed, heart hurt. She did not comprehend why it felt like such a betrayal that he would try to remove her mask, but it did.

“Forgive me,” Cernunnos voice was thick with arousal as he spoke, nearly pulling Theo back into the thrall yet again as his hand dropped away from her mask and his kisses lowered to her neck.

But in those few seconds that their lips parted from another, Theo felt reality rush in.

She looked down at herself, realized that her dress had been hiked up and she was clinging to him like a squirrel clung to a tree.

With no stockings on, her bare legs gleamed against the black of Cernunnos’ suit, creating a startling contrast that further served to pull from the shroud of lust. Shame crept into her bloodstream and Theo slid her arms away from her paramour’s neck.

“Put me down,” she said, her voice quivering slightly.

Cernunnos’ lips stilled at her neck; his hands tightened their hold on her for the briefest of moments. Then he pulled away, confusion marring his dark eyes.

“Please,” Theo added, panic starting to rise. She’d never let someone get this far before, never let herself get this lost in a moment.

“Calypso, I apologize,” Cernunnos replied, sitting her gently back on her feet. “Our masks just kept scraping together. I wanted ye to be more comfortable.”

Theo, dizzy and cold as she was placed back on the floor, stumbled as she stepped further away from him. Cernunnos reached for her immediately, as if to help her, but she put up a hand to stop him as she wrapped the other around her waist.

“I have to go,” she stated, jarred by how deeply affected she felt by it all.

“Wait,” It sounded more like a plea than a demand and curse it if that didn’t make Theo long to obey even more.

“Thank you,” she blurted out instead, hurrying to the door.

She flung it open and left, walking briskly through the hall of private of rooms, past the dance floor and to the exit, cursing herself the entire.

Thank you. Thank you?! The man’s kiss had stolen every thought from her head, made the voices and worries go blissfully blank and she’d said thank you?

Outside, Theo dragged fresh air into her lungs and continued her hurried walk away from the house. Once further away from it and seeing no one had followed her, she groaned and shook her head trying to clear the hypnotic daze that her masked man had put her in.

“Carriage,” she murmured, taking a look around the pristine lawn she wondered onto, “Where did they put the carriages?”

The Devil’s Masquerade was known to move.

Last year it had moved to one of the outer streets of Mayfair, where the estates stopped and townhouses began.

This one had been coordinated out of proper London, situated on an estate that was just a few minutes ride away from the bustle of the city.

When she had first arrived, she found the new location a relief since the last had been found out by her brother.

Now though, as she was trying to find her means to leave, she found it rather frustrating.

Deciding to search behind the large house, Theo hugged her bare arms around herself and took toward a gravel path lined with trees. She didn’t make it far before she heard the crunching of footsteps behind her. The sound sent goosebumps over her skin and her spine went straight. She stopped.

Was it Vulcan? Had he not left? Or was it Cernunnos? She was frightened of Vulcan, even if she hadn’t shown it earlier and was deeply embarrassed by the way she’d just acted with Cernunnos. She drew in a breath, readying herself to face either.

“How dare you--”

The angered words she’d prepared to say died on her tongue as she turned and saw it was neither man, yet still someone she knew. Her eyes widened, she bit her bottom lip, and winced as she met his cold, angry stare.

“Tristan,” she breathed.