My gown matched Sully’s tux in infinitesimal ways. The bottom of my skirts was smoky grey—as if I’d stepped in clouds and hadn’t fully shed their cloying colour—but beyond that...I was iridescent.
A snakeskin pattern etched the fabric, growing from faint lines into bold patterns the higher up the bodice it went. From my hips to my shoulders, the fabric was almost sheer, allowing opalescent scales to hint at my flesh beneath. Two fabric trains fell from my shoulder blades, adding to the swatches of material following me down the sweeping staircase toward the murmur of voices and the crush of crowds below.
As we’d prepared for the masq, we’d heard more and more guests arrive. The crunch of gravel as limousines pulled up and deposited their partygoers, and the occasional roar of a helicopter landing on the grounds.
Once again, a window refracted my appearance, revealing that my dress might be based on a snake’s sinuous, silky poison but also garnered inspiration from other creatures too.
The long gloves I wore went up my biceps, intricately detailed with beadwork in the shape of bees and butterflies. Stitched over the iridescent snakeskin fabric were the tiniest of seashells and within the smoky grey swirling around my feet were the starched lace embellishments in the shape of feathers and fronds.
My mask had matching horns to Sully’s, only on a smaller scale, along with diamonds over my brow and along my cheekbones.
The entire ensemble was a mismatch of reptilian, avian, sea life, and ground dwellers. All animal themed in high-end couture.
Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I clung to Sully’s arm as we braced ourselves and headed toward the hum of voices. Flutters of my orgasm that Sully had given me in our shared shower continued to tease between my legs.
It’d taken two attempts to get dressed, thanks to Sully’s insatiable desire the moment I’d slipped into the gown.
We didn’t need to talk to know that tonight would be enjoyable but also a struggle to mingle with so many strangers. As long as Sully stayed close by, I would be content to smile and chat, despite missing the serenity of our shores.
Brushing past a few couples, we stepped into the giant ballroom.
It took my breath away.
Pillars and tumbling velvet curtains. Wainscoting and plasterwork ceilings. Six ginormous chandeliers drenched gowned and tuxedoed guests in fragmenting rainbows.
The room was crowded but not overly so, all attention upon the small podium where a band had paused in their playing. A man in a black tux with a black mask stood beside a woman in a raven and swan dress, black feathers blending into white with a half-mask covering one eye.
They spoke, but we were too far away to hear exactly what was said. However, Sully nuzzled my nose, murmuring, “That’s him. Jethro and his wife. See her necklace?”
I nodded. How could I miss the huge diamond collar around her throat? “She’s beautiful.”
Sully grunted, his eyes not on our hosts but the head of his security, Radcliffe.
Radcliffe and a few of his team from Quietus—his old mercenary firm—now lived on Goddess Isles with us and protected whatever needed protecting. He’d travelled with us, staying discreet and unseen.
Radcliffe nodded once in our direction, spoke into his cuff to the rest of his team, and faded back into the crowd.
A round of applause sounded along with a roar of laughter, dragging my attention to a man in a white tux standing beside a woman in a gorgeous gown sitting in a wheelchair.
And then the speech was over, and the Hawks vanished from the stage. The band struck up a romantic, soulful serenade, and the party began.
“Want to dance, my lovely goddess?” Sully asked, turning to me with a graceful bow.
I placed my hand in his. “I can’t dance, but if it’s an excuse to touch you, then definitely.”
He grinned, pulling me through the crowd to the dance floor where other couples had fallen into a waltz.
I’d never ballroom danced in my life. “Eh, what do I do?”
Sully gathered me close, angling me correctly and spreading my arm out with his. “Just follow my lead. I don’t exactly know what I’m doing either but just follow the music. Who cares about the proper steps.”
Biting my lip, I allowed him to glide me forward and back, my dress swaying and train pooling by my feet as we swept around the floor.
To start with, self-consciousness kept me highly aware of other more talented couples. But then the song changed to a more passionate rendition, and masked men clutched their women closer, spun faster, encouraging lust to mingle within the finery of decorum.
My own need struck a sizzling match.
Sully’s touch went from comforting and familiar to laced with that heady electricity that always got us into trouble. My breath came quicker as I did my best to ignore the crackling chemistry and copy others, focusing on mastering my dancing instead of pouncing on my gorgeous husband.