Foreign Affairs

Foreign Affairs.

	“Excuse me,” the voice, a rich baritone that slipped into my ear like warm wine, sent a thrill of nervous fear down my spine. Before I could look around at whoever had crept up behind me – their footsteps muffled beneath the rumble of overlapping voices and background music – their arm reached across to ensnare my waist. The strength behind that grasping arm offered no hope of resistance, so I allowed myself to be led away from the rest of the masquerade ball.
	Any other day in my life, I would have stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the throngs of rich and powerful prancing their way around the ballroom, but not today. Today, my every curve was gripped by rich silk and draped with lace, a veritable king's ransom spent on a gown worthy of the most pampered of princesses. After all you've got to treat yourself sometimes, especially if it's someone else's money you're spending.
	“You don't belong here, do you?” the voice continued, purring into my ear with a perfect volume. I heard it as intimately as a lover's whisper, and yet the witless nobility around us carried on their farcical dancing, utterly oblivious. It seemed that, despite the ill-gotten gold I had lavished on it, my majestic dress had proven to be no shield against my faceless accuser.
	“Belong here?” Away from the swirling crowds, I allowed my voice to colour with anger and pulled away from the strong grip, turning and finally gazing upon my attacker. Male – but I'd guessed that already – and tall, with his formidable height supplemented by a pair of grand horns. His skin, what little of it wasn't covered in finery, was the deep crimson of the infernally blooded. Faced with his imposing form, I found my offended words dying before they could leave my throat.
	“Of course I belong here!” rallying quickly, I snapped out a few harsh words, “Whereas you are a base cur, without manners or breeding. I contend, sir, that it is you that does not belong here!”
	My words fell upon his blank mask – as plain and expressionless as every other mask in the ballroom, covering all but the eyes and mouth – with only the slightest of reactions. The Tiefling's mouth twitched up into a sardonic smirk as he considered my words. Waiting for his reaction, I felt a cold shiver running through my entire body. His dark eyes seemed to feast on my discomfort, silently urging me to confess my deception.
	“Let's see... A stolen invitation, perhaps? Not the dress though, that fit is too fine to be anything other than the work of a tailor,” I didn't need to see his face to guess his expression – no doubt his eyebrow was lifted in a questioning lilt, “How many purses did you need to snatch to afford that, I wonder?”
	“Lies and accusations,” I hissed, desperately hoping that fury would cover up my guilt. Every second I spent with the devilish man was only digging my grave a little deeper, but fleeing from him would be no better. I was well and truly backed into a corner.
	“What's your name, girl?” the Tiefling asked. His accent, now that I was listening out for such things, marked him out as a foreigner, no doubt attending the masquerade on behalf of his distant patron. It was an exotic accent, one that filled the mind with images of spice and silk. Despite my better judgement I found myself enjoying the sound of his words, brief as they were.
	“Keziah,” I murmured in response before clamping my lips shut. My real name – not even close to the name written on my purloined invitation – had just slipped out. “Lady Keziah,” I added, stressing the fraudulent title in hope of deterring any further questions.
	“A noble lady indeed!” openly laughing at my squirming, the Tiefling drove his dagger deeper. “Tell me, Lady Keziah, do you know why this is a masquerade ball? No? So that our true names are not sullied by whatever... acts we might perform tonight.”
	“I... Who said I gave you my real name?” The excuse sounded feeble, even to my own ears.
	“So what would drive a little thief to risk her life with such an audacious stunt?” the Tiefling crossed his arms slowly, flaunting his confidence with every languid movement. His bare arms were well-muscled, giving him the appearance of a prizefighter, rather than the kind of depraved nobleman that would attend such a notorious event. “Not the money, that's for sure. That dress alone would cost more than anything you could carry out of here.”
	How could I explain it to him? For one born into poverty, attending such a fine event had always seemed like an unattainable dream, and yet I had made it here through my wits and skill. A nobleman could never understand, and I had little desire to waste my breath in explaining myself to him. I glared at him instead, although I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering across the length of his body. Beneath his fine outfit, I was certain that the rest of his body would be as muscular as his arms. The kind of body that any woman would be proud to cling to.

	“So, my little thief, what should I do with you?” the Tiefling's hand slipped up to stroke his lips as he fell silent, waiting for my response. His nails were black and glossy, no doubt sharp enough to cut through cloth with ease. The thought of him tearing his way through my dress, sending the expensive fabric drifting to the floor in tatters, sprung unbidden to my mind, stirring a shameful warmth deep within my loins.
	I was attracted to the mysterious masked nobleman, that much could no longer be denied. Even if his body hadn't been so remarkable, his predatory manner had ensnared my thoughts and reduced me to a willing victim. He had me trapped – had, in fact, had me trapped from the very first moment he had laid eyes on me – and now he was playing with me.
	“Must I buy your silence with my body?” I offered, inwardly cringing at the shameless delivery. Not the first time I had used my flesh to get out of trouble – or into trouble, for that matter – but it was the first time I had been so eager about it.
	“A tempting offer,” the Tiefling admitted, reaching out to brush a lock of my long, black hair away from the mask I had donned. Even that vague compliment thrilled me, as much as I resented my heart from fluttering at his sonorous voice. “For now though, a dance perhaps?”
	“A dance?” I felt my jaw grow slack at his casual offer. Suddenly, I was reminded of the ballroom we had been standing in, and the precise steps of the cavorting nobility that filled it. Numbly, I felt myself nod and let my body wilt into the Tiefling's embrace, allowing him to steer me towards the centre of the grand room. My mind was whirling, but long hours of practice brought each step of the dance naturally to my feet.
	“What should I call you?” I felt myself murmur, my words barely louder than the whisper of silk that drifted up as my dress skimmed across the polished floor. Slowly, my wits were returning, murmuring danger into my dazed, lust-clouded mind. It was like the sane, rational part of my mind was crying out for escape, urging me to drop all pretence and flee the scene but I couldn't bring my body to obey.
	“What should you call me?” the Tiefling wondered aloud, taking one of my hands in a tight grip and pulling me up into a waltz. His other hand, moving with the arrogant ease of a born winner, slipped lower down to squeeze the pliable flesh of my buttock. Squirming, I fought back a low groan as the foreigner carried on talking, his every work caressing my ear. “I wouldn't be foolish enough to give you my real name, but... Duke. You may address me as Duke.”
	“So now we're both making claim to nobility,” My wits, at the very least, had recovered enough for me to conjure up an appropriate retort. Duke laughed deeply, holding me away from his body and sending me into a giddy twirl. When I returned to the solid bulk of his body, his chest was still shaking with mirth.
	“You mistake me, milady,” Duke shot back, his voice rich with mocking insincerity as he pronounced my stolen title, “I sell myself short. Do you think me a mere duke?” The Tiefling's question went unanswered, anything I might have said faltering as he stroked my back with long, leisurely motions.
	“Well, no matter,” the murmured words reached my ear as Duke carried me across the ballroom, our matched pace following the steps of the dance with unconscious precision. As we twirled around, I caught a fleeting glance of another noblewoman watching us, her eyes lively with furious jealousy. “After this dance, perhaps you would care to join me for another?” Duke's words were utterly calm – if he had noticed the glaring onlooker, he wasn't bothered in the slightest.
	“You seem to have an admirer...” I couldn't stop myself from whispering, nodding carefully towards the noblewoman. She must have seen my probing glances, but her staring continued unabated. “...And I seem to have a rival,” a hint of humour entered my voice as I finished.
	“Hmm?” Duke cast a brief look behind him, quickly fixing his gaze upon the obsessed noblewoman. The merest hint of his attention was enough to make her freeze, the deep blush rising up in her cheeks visible even from a distance. Returning his gaze to me, Duke took my chin in a careful grip and turned my face up until his masked face seemed to fill my vision.
	More than anything else in that moment, I wished that he would remove his mask and allow me a glimpse of his features. The few parts of his face that I could see – burning, passionate eyes and an imperious mouth – spoke of a natural beauty that was, nevertheless, unmistakably marked by his infernal bloodline. Thick black hair, curling down from his horned brow in carelessly tousled waves, lent him a roguish charm that only served to amplify his raw sexuality.
	“An old flame, and nothing more,” Duke's words were casually delivered, as though he regarded the other woman as nothing more than a passing nuisance. Perhaps he did – there was little doubt that one such as he would have scores of former lovers, and some were less likely to accept rejection as well as others. It was easy for put the other woman out of my mind, with far more appealing fantasies springing forth to crowd her out of my thoughts.
	Simply put, I had fallen deep into lustful thoughts from his intoxicating presence. That was why – when he offered to show me another, more private kind of dance – I could only nod and silently urge him to lead the way. With his strong arm wrapped snugly around my slender waist, I allowed myself to be steered out of the ballroom.

	Compared with the stifling heat of the packed ballroom, the cold night air of the gardens cut though me like a razor blade. The chilling moment passed quickly, however, and soon I realised that it was a pleasantly warm night, as was to be expected for the season. It was the kind of night, I realised with giddy excitement, that would not be unkind to the naked body.
	As if skimming the lustful thoughts from the surface of my mind, Duke placed his hands upon my bare shoulders and brought them down, brushing aside the ruffled trim of my dress and sending the entire garment tumbling down. I gasped aloud, no amount of preparation enough to steel myself against the sudden chill against my stiff, sensitive nipples. My gasp was followed by a second, huskier groan as Duke trailed his fingertips down the length of my stomach with teasing delicacy.
	“You've lived an interesting life, my little thief,” the Tiefling's voice rumbled deep within his chest as he followed the patterns of scars across my torso with an ebon fingernail. That sharp sensation – just bordering on pain – quickened my breath and caused a new warmth to blossom between my legs. “But then, so have we all.”
	With those rich words, Duke slid a sharp fingertip down his chest, slitting the fine fabric of his shirt open with contemptuous ease. The thought of how much that shirt – so mindlessly destroyed – was worth send a shudder of unease running down into the pit of my stomach, but it was matched by a flutter of excitement as his crimson chest was revealed.
	As I had imagined, his torso was packed with enough muscle to give him the appearance of a statue, some masterpiece that depicted a paragon of the humanoid form. Even the long ridges of scar tissue that crossed his sculpted abdomen were attractive in their own way, lending the Tiefling the appearance of a seasoned duellist. I yearned to touch his scars, to trace their paths as he had caressed my old wounds, but some distant memory of restraint held me back.
	He had called it a more private kind of dance, but there was nothing private about the surroundings Duke had chosen. With the night sky as a roof and the artfully trimmed topiary serving as walls, the gardens were only slightly less public than a city street. The thought was a fearful one, and I felt myself growing as cold and stiff as the statues that surrounded us. Compared with Duke's clothed form, my naked body seemed to be the very picture of vulnerability and yet, as the Tiefling swept me into his arms, I felt comforted more than anything else.
	Our embrace was a chaste one for little more than a few heartbeats, before Duke plunged one hand into my tumbling waves of hair and pulled me into a deep kiss, his other hand sliding neatly between my legs. I opened for him, offering not even the playful resistance that etiquette demanded of me, and felt myself growing wet at his touch. His lips carried the faintest trace of brandy, and soon I found myself craving more of that intoxicating flavour.
	Such wanton lusts were usually beneath me, better suited to the vacuous nobility that I nevertheless idolised, but the hunger that Duke had stoked within me was one that reached beyond my rational mind. I found myself moaning into his open mouth as the Tiefling's fingers brushed against the folds of my sex, parting them ever so slightly and teasing me with a mere hint of the pleasure that awaited me.
	Flustered, panting, I took a step backwards and felt the cool stone of a plinth press against my backside. Without so much as a backwards glance to see whose monument I was defacing, I planted my hands on the plinth and lifted myself up, wriggling slightly as I made myself comfortable. Duke, content to amuse himself by watching my acrobatics, waited with a deliberate patience for my next move.
	For the first time since the aristocratic Tiefling had accosted me, I felt like I was fully in control of my own actions. Escape suddenly seemed like a genuine possibility – a mad dash towards the edge of the garden and a quick leap over the hedges was all I would need – yet the idea was strangely unappealing. Barely any time passed before I reached a decision. Parting my legs to reveal my waiting sex, I urged Duke closer with a beckoning finger.

	Smirking to himself – I had little doubt that Duke had expected his game to end any other way – the Tiefling drew close to my welcoming embrace, pausing only to free his manhood from the confines of his tight breeches. As red as the rest of his skin – perhaps even more so, with so much trapped blood throbbing beneath the tight surface – the sight of his member caused the breath to catch in my throat. The tumultuous arousal building within my breast soured, mingling with an unmistakable fear.
	Of the Tiefling's abnormal height and developed musculature, not one single detail had escaped my wandering eye and yet I had never expected to see such a formidable length springing from within his breeches. If Duke saw the fear that had seeped into my eyes, he gave no indication. Neither did he show any sign of ceasing his approach – if anything, a new vigour seemed to enter the Tiefling's limbs as he moved closer to me, close enough that the head of his penis brushed against my slit with every minute movement of his body.
	“Wait!” I pleaded, even as the primal part of my mind urged me to stay silent, the fear churning inside me paling in comparison to my lustful thoughts.
	“Really?” Duke leaned down to breath in my ear, his words coming out in a seductive hiss, “I won't hurt you. Quite the contrary, my little thief, you cannot imagine the pleasures I have to offer you.”
	Bushes rustled around us, their thin branches set into motion by the faint stir of the breeze as we both lapsed into silence. It wasn't long before I closed my eyes and nodded sharply, not trusting my voice to stay firm. Grinning wolfishly, Duke placed one hand on my shoulder to steady my trembling body and used his other to guide his member into me.
	The tip, hard and honed to a delightful point, entered me easily, brushing aside the slick folds of my outer lips and pressing slowly into my tightness. It was only when he pushed deeper inside me, his girth already straining against the quivering walls of my sex, that the breath caught in my throat. He had lied – he was hurting me – but I could not bring myself to cry out. The pain I felt, a thunderous ache as my body struggled to accommodate his manhood, was matched by a delirious pleasure that made it all worth it.
	Clinging to his back like a frightened child, I buried my face in the Tiefling's chest and whimpered softly. Even moving slowly, with a near-infinite care that belied his devilish appearance, Duke's manhood felt like it was tearing me up inside. It was almost as if I would be able to see it distending my very abdomen, if only I could open my tightly clenched eyes and look down. Finally, no longer able to keep my silence, I cried out as he hilted inside me.
	My cry was swallowed up by the bulwark of his chest and soon I felt a warmth envelop me as Duke took me in a tender embrace. With his manhood still piercing me, he held me tightly and murmured soothing nothings into my ear. Slowly, as though it was an animal being lulled into compliance, I felt my body loosen up around him. The pain receded until it was a distant memory, as important than some childhood scrape.
	The next time I cried out, it was a cry of rich, indulgent pleasure as Duke's hips rocked with his first careful thrusts. Slowly, slow enough that I fancied I could count his every inch, the Tiefling pulled out of me, leaving me with a yearning sense of absence for the briefest of moments before pushing back into me.
	When Duke loosened his embrace, I allowed myself to fall backwards against the statue behind me, relishing the contrast between cool marble and the Tiefling's fiery skin. Leaning back like this, my pale body seemed to glow in the moonlight, every detail of it exposed to the most casual of passing glances. My breasts shifted with every shuddering breath that passed through my lungs, my rigid nipples pointing upwards in a lewd invitation.
	It was an invitation that Duke was only too happy to accept, reaching down to take one of my breasts in a firm grip and squeezing the nipple between two fingers. The pressure sent a spasm of pleasure running through my entire body, tempered with just enough pain to sharpen my lust-clouded mind. As I let my head fall backwards, a deep groan of shameless delight slipping from my parted lips, a faint glint of light in the hedges caught my eye.
	My curiosity piqued, I couldn't help but stare back into the bushes in the vain hope of catching another glimpse of that unknown sight. It was only when another rustle shook the greenery and attracted my attention that I found the cause. Two minute glints, invisible but for the moonlight skipping off their source, that were unmistakably a pair of furious, staring eyes.

	In that instant, I was gripped by a terror so overwhelming that every little detail about where I was – or what I was doing – fled from my mind. Before I could do anything more than open my mouth in preparation for an almighty scream, Duke took my chin and guided my lips to his own. Even then, the sensation of the kiss barely registered until I remembered the other woman, the sudden recollection dragging me back to reality.
	I could not imagine the kind of obsessive jealousy that would drive the nameless woman to follow the every step of her former lover, but it was that overwhelming envy that lit up her eyes. With those blazing eyes fixed upon me, I found it impossible to concentrate on anything else, even as Duke's powerful thrusts rocked my body. It was only when I was able to tear my gaze away, bringing them back to the masked Tiefling's darkly humorous eyes, that I realised.
	He knew. He knew that our steps had been shadowed by that nameless, faceless lover of his, and yet he had still chosen to take me in such a public way. It should have felt like a violation, being paraded in front of her like this, but I could not deny the surge of pleasure – somehow vindictive - that rose up within me. It was the simple pleasure of being favoured, of being chosen over one from such obvious nobility.
	That realisation was enough to dissolve the last lingering traces of restraint I felt and open my body to the fullest range of sensation. Letting my head loll back, a deep groan of wordless ecstasy slipped from my lips as Duke's thrusts grew deeper and harder. There was still a little pain – even with my arousal flowing in full force, my sex was still straining to accommodate the Tiefling's girth – but I welcomed it, and the overwhelming delight that came with it.
	Another wanton cry escaped me as I moved with Duke's thrusts, my back arching and my hips bucking. A thin sheen of sweat had gathered on his chest, gleaming on his collarbone as evidence to his throes of passion. Spreading my legs wider, I took his manhood deeper into the folds of my sex, walls of muscle grasping and clenching at the invading member.
	His own breath coming in rasping gasps, Duke's iron grip closed around my ankles and forced them further apart, lifting my legs so his thrusts could reach deeper still inside me. His shaft seemed to touch me in places I had never been touched before, drawing intense spasms of pleasure from me and clouding my mind with lust. I could hear myself grunting out nonsense sounds, wordless noises born from simple animal desire.
	At such a pace, with the Tiefling's thrusts coming in fast and hard, I knew that it would not be long before my body would be gripped by the makings of a climax. I could feel it building already, the unmistakable signs of an orgasm present in the warmth creeping out from my loins to every inch of my flesh. My every muscle felt taut, stretched to an impossible tightness that threatened to snap at any minute.
	Whatever impotent rage had driven that nameless noblewoman to watch our union seemed to hold her still, with every sideways glance I cast over to the bushes finding her eyes. No longer afraid of her – quite the opposite, in fact – I allowed the corners of my mouth to twist up into an arrogant grin, lording over the jealous wretch before another indulgent moan was coaxed from my body. All thoughts, save for those of my infernal lover, fled from my mind as Duke pulled me up, holding my body against his.
	His own orgasm could not be far away, with the motion of his hips growing quick and desperate. I had always found that men, from the lowliest guardsman to the haughtiest noble, all shared the same instincts when their orgasm grew close and Duke was no different. His eyes drifted shut and his lips retreated to a thin line, each rapid breath hissing out from the corners of his mouth.
	Shallow reaching and furiously quick, Duke's manhood punched into me with delightful force, sending waves of pleasure through my tense body. My sex tightened with anticipation, sensitive folds quivering as the first tremors of my climax began to unfold with luxurious grace. Panting and sighing, clinging to Duke's muscular chest, I held the Tiefling close and moaned into his shoulder, letting the taller man's red flesh muffle my cries.
	As my voice grew low and husky, I let one final gasp tumble from my lips before the full force of my orgasm blossomed into life. All the tension that had gathered in my body, lurking within my strained muscles, seemed to manifest as a single convulsion that forced my head back and my eyes to clench shut. Had it not been for Duke's strong arms holding me close, I would have tumbled back with only the statue behind me to arrest my fall.
	Barely sparing a thought for those watchful eyes fixed upon me, I rode out the convulsions that gripped me and relished in the waves of blindingly intense pleasure that accompanied them. All but the most primal thoughts and desires were washed out of my mind in that moment, my entire attention focussed on the Tiefling's manhood thrusting inside me. Moving so fast that each individual motion blurred together into a non-stop moment of bliss, his member was as hard as stone and hot, hotter still than the fluids that flowed from my sex.
	With a single mighty spasm, Duke reached a shuddering climax, holding my body tightly against his as two, three powerful jets of seed flooded into me. I gasped aloud as I felt his manhood throb and pulse within me, each movement adding something to the delicious pleasure of my lingering orgasm. The Tiefling's breathing was harsh, and where our chests met I could feel his heart hammering madly away. The essences of our sex mixed inside me, his fluids and mine, before spilling out in pearly streams to flow down the inside of my thighs, cutting a path through the sheen of sweat glistening on my skin.
	Sighing with his own indescribable pleasure, Duke's embrace was unfaltering as my sex tightened around his manhood, squeezing out the very last drops of his seed and claiming them as my own. Slowly freeing myself from his entangling arms – although I very much wished to share his warmth for as long as possible – I looked about the gardens, checking for any other voyeurs. We were utterly alone, with even my nameless rival vanished without a trace. Her disappearance was so complete that I felt suddenly uncertain, as though she had never been there at all.

	Whatever thoughts I had about that jealous noblewoman, they were banished from my mind as Duke pulled his manhood free from my slit, leaving me with nothing but the sensation of a desperate yearning. Slowly, with my numb body going through the motions with mechanical precision, I began to dress again. All the while, I was trying to put my scattered thoughts into words.
	“Will I see you again?” I finally blurted out, the most banal of my thoughts coming to my lips before anything witty or clever could make the journey.
	“Maybe,” Duke laughed softly as he slipped his member back into his breeches, behind the shield of a well-stuffed codpiece, “But you'll never know – I shan't be wearing a mask.”
	“I think I'd know,” smiling slightly, I nodded up at Duke's majestic horned brow, “Not many people with a crown like that around here.”
	“I'm not from around here,” Duke shot back, his arrogant reply leaving me speechless. Taking advantage of my silence, the Tiefling stooped low and planted a warm kiss on my cheek. With his face this close to mine, I could smell the scent of his body. A warm - somehow spiced - perfume, one that was as exotic as his melodious accent, it only seemed to confirm his words. Before I could take another breath of that intoxicating smell, he was marching back towards the ballroom with great sweeping steps.
	“Neither am I,” I whispered to myself, looking around at the opulence surrounding me. A far cry from my home, but then again, a wanderer like me had no real home. Perhaps our chances of meeting again were better than Duke had assumed.