Masquerade
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Mandy M.
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671K
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21
1: Chapter 1
MARCO
Marco usually hated these stupid masquerade balls. At first, he’d intended just to make an appearance to please his mother and then leave.
But he found that he liked the freedom of his mask. Tonight, he was simply Marco. Not Marco Livingston, billionaire owner of Livingston, Inc.; just Marco.
He found himself a seat at the bar, downing whiskey and people-watching for almost an hour. Then a laugh caught his attention from across the room.
It sounded so heavenly that he went instantly hard. He followed his ears, and soon he found himself staring at a breathtakingly beautiful woman.
Her long hair brushed against a small ass that he wanted to squeeze; her dress showed just a hint of cleavage; and when he met her eyes behind her mask, they were the most mesmerizing gray he’d ever seen.
The whiskey blurred everything together. Dancing, kissing, groping, and then…
Somehow, they ended up in his hotel room, with her on her knees, taking all ten inches he had to offer. Her plain black mask was still on. They’d agreed to keep them. The sight of her down there, naked everywhere except her face, drove him wild.
This level of deep-throating was a first for him; most women gagged, turning a blow job into a hand job.
This was by far the best blow job he’d ever received. He wondered how good her pussy would feel wrapped around him.
She started to pull away, but he grabbed her hair and yanked her back to him, her nose brushing his pelvis. For a moment, his whiskey-drenched mind worried he was being too rough with her. But when she moaned around him, he knew she liked it.
He fully let himself go, fucking her mouth mercilessly as she held on to his thighs and took everything he gave her.
His thrusts slowed as he rode out his orgasm, watching as she swallowed every last drop.
“On the bed,” he ordered once he’d gotten his breath back.
Marco loved eating pussy, and he was good at it too. He’d never tasted a pussy as good as hers. It was like a ripe peach; her juices invaded his mouth, and he couldn’t get enough.
He pinned her hips to the bed, making sure to devour as much as he could. Her moans were music to his ears.
He made her come twice before he felt his own blood rushing south again. “I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you?” he rasped. She nodded vigorously.
A condom was the last thing on either of their minds. He didn’t notice it missing until he was already buried to the hilt, feeling every inch of her wet heat. That was another first for him; he’d never even thought about fucking someone bareback before.
As he came inside her for the first time, feeling her tighten around him with the force of her own orgasm, a moment of clarity sparked. One night wouldn’t be enough. He had to have this woman again and again.
It was like she was made just for him. Where most women could barely handle one round with him, she went all night. The way she moaned his name out while riding him was like music to his ears; he had to hear it every day.
“What’s your name?” he whispered in her ear.
She shook her head. “You don’t need to know.”
“My name’s Marco,” he tried.
“Good for you. You still don’t get my name.”
He laughed. “Can you at least take off the mask, kitten?”
She shook her head again. “I like it. The air of mystery.”
He liked it too, so he didn’t push more than that, content to call her “kitten” for the rest of the night.
RYAN
Ryan hadn’t expected to hook up at this party. She’d barely slept with anyone since the end of her last disastrous relationship.
But every time she caught Marco’s piercing green eyes behind his mask, she had to say yes, and yes, and yes again.
There wasn’t a surface in the room that he didn’t fuck her on. They fucked on the bed, the table, the chair, and even the bathroom sink.
Ryan knew she was going to be sore for days, but she didn’t care. It had been too long since a man had made her feel this good. Marco’s dick was by far the biggest she’d ever had, and he knew how to use it, fucking her in positions she didn’t even know were possible.
Her body was exhausted and sore already, but she gladly rode him again. She was going to take as much as he was willing to give her.
The light outside the window was fading into pre-dawn gray when he finally collapsed backward on the bed. She let herself fall too, smacking down onto his chest, sticky and satisfied.
“I think you finally wore me out, kitten,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.
“It only took…what? Seven, eight rounds?” Ryan joked. She really was impressed with his stamina.
“Stay,” he sighed. “Sleep.” Then his eyes slipped closed as he followed his own advice.
Ryan smiled down at him. It would be so easy to fall asleep here, in the warmth of his body heat. But she should go.
This was a drunken one-night stand, even if Ryan’s alcohol buzz was starting to turn into a hangover already. She didn’t want to wait and see the magic wear off in the morning.
Moving quietly, she peeled herself away from him and found her dress, shoes, and purse before heading for the door. Remembering, she also finally slipped off her sweaty mask and tucked it into her purse.
She paused just a moment in the doorway to look back at him. The sheet was tangled around his waist, and he was naked except for the mask, which was hanging at a strange angle.
He was so beautiful. It was a shame she’d never see him again.
TWO MONTHS LATER
The instructions on the box said to wait two minutes after peeing on the stick. Ryan waited five minutes, six, seven. She knew what it would say. But once she got confirmation, it would be real.
Finally, she couldn’t put it off any longer. She peered down at the innocent piece of plastic on her bathroom sink. A tiny smiley face beamed back at her, confirming what she already knew.
She was pregnant.
She sat back down on the closed toilet, staring at the test.
Well, crap.
