Masquerade: And the Devil's Bargain

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A good girl. A bold choice. A night of revenge.
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LadyFrost
LadyFrost
13 Followers

Vito De Mare, Italy 2017

The trail to Maria Gomez led them across the ocean. The trip was surprisingly easy and made on a private jet. The Italian province of Vito De Mare was little more than a tiny island floating off the tip of the boot of the country. It was a haven for the wealthy, the bored, and the overtly depraved.

What Vito De Mare was primarily known for was its night life. Swingers frequented the island, sharing in their sexual delights with others of the bored and idle nature. Sex games were the theme of things in most fronts, offering moonlight masquerades and anonymous delights to those who sought to fill their souls with such sins of the flesh.

The blending in was going to require a fair amount of footwork and...handiwork. Leon slipped on the expensive Dolce and Gabbana suit in commanding black, double breasted, silk, with peak lapels and a vest beneath, that accompanied his costume with little concern for it. The intricate venetian metal mask he slid onto his face made the whole look, which might have been Vogue and very high fashion, a sensual edge that promised the viewer a different kind of delight beneath the expensive packaging.

He was lean, handsome, charismatic and charming - he'd blend right in. Beneath the suit, he wore an inner pants holster that placed his pistol at the small of his back. Charming or not, he was never unarmed.

Joel, Rebecca, and their two newest accompaniments: Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield, all were gathered in the living room of the three thousand dollar a night suite being used as HQ for this operation. Jill was dressed in black as well. The dress was so low cut that it left little to the imagination...and everything to it. It was a dress the promised something dark and delicious to any who wanted to try to touch and see if they got lucky, or lost a hand trying. Her blonde hair was artfully styled in piles of twists and curls around her face. She wore a little mask herself, this one lacy and red, hiding but not really hiding, the delicate features of her face.

Chris chuckled when he saw them stand next to each other. "You two look like the top of a Fifty Shades of Grey wedding cake."

Jill snickered, "You're just jealous because you have to wait here while we get to go play."

"Maybe." Chris snorted again, "Probably. But I'm shit in the playacting department. I'd ruin it."

Leon rolled his eyes as they moved over to get outfitted with communicators. Joel tucked a tiny piece in Leon's ear and put the battery pack, the shape of a cigarette lighter, into his breast pocket. He clipped a little camera in the form of a diamond tie tack to the front knot of his silky white tie.

He literally stuck his hand in the front of Jill's dress.

She raised her brows, shocked. But Chris snickered. Joel cared as much about boobs as the Pope did about sex. He fitted the device to her and added the one in her ear. "There! Voila!"

Leon shifted, glancing out into the narrow cobbled streets. The masquerade took place over the entire city. There was no "one spot". "How's the range?"

"Twenty miles give or take." Joel moved to his computer and started typing. "Wherever you go, we can hear you."

"Got it."

The bathroom door opened and Rebecca stepped out, drying her hands on a towel. She paused, blinked, blinked, and stared. Jill smiled sweetly, "I look that good?"

Rebecca laughed, grinning, "You do indeed. I'm jealous."

Jill winked at her as she passed. "Rebecca, you endless flirt, I already like you. You don't have to butter me up."

Rebecca shifted as Jill and Chris headed out into the hallway. She watched the man who moved toward her. She wondered if she would ever get tired of watching him move. The outfit...it made the man. That was for damn sure.

"This look suits you."

"Oh yeah?" He smiled down at her. She ran her hand over his lapel.

"Oh yeah it does. Try not to do too much playing around out there."

He looped his arm around her to drag her against him. Her nose bumped the cold metal mask as he ducked his head. "Jealous?"

She met his looked squarely, "You're fucking right I am. I'd be an idiot not to be."

Leon laughed, delighted, and kissed her. Her cheeks were pink from rushing blood when he pulled back. "Don't be. I'm acting out there. And then I'm coming back here to you."

Rebecca traced his mouth with her fingers. "Sounds good to me."

He nipped her fingers, sending bolts of want right into her groin. "When I get back, you'll be the one coming."

"Oh dear god, promise?"

"Promise." He dropped a kiss to her shoulder and let her go. She shivered, deliciously.

Out on the street, the masquerade swirled up and surrounded them. She watched him until he disappeared into the crowd. Chris stepped up next to her, grinning.

"What do you say, Chambers?"

She looked up at his grinning face, "Can I keep him?"

Chris laughed.

He danced, he schmoozed. He kept a drink in his hand like any good James Bond. He flirted and tempted and danced the edge of playing the game too well. He listened, he learned, he stored information and filed it away in the right places. He kissed a few necks and played a few games when the mood called for it, getting a little more information with a little more teasing.

A tall figure in red came out of the smoke of the crowd and not even the mask couldn't hide who it was. He watched her move, cat like and wicked. She took his hand, wordlessly, and guided him toward a building.

He said nothing even as she tugged him inside. The internal part of the building was beautiful. Everything was hand carved and brilliantly maintained. It was marble and white and shiny, it was elegant even as it was clearly lavishly designed. They were looking down from a balcony into an inner sanctum, that much was clear. Inside the circle, on a mural of angels and demons in the throws sexual release, an orgy had begun.

Bodies and limbs, hands and lips, the sounds of want and wanton greed filled the air. Sweaty and succulent flesh melded and slipped together, offering the viewer a beautiful and decadent buffet of sexual delight. It was hard to tell where one body ended and another began.

She slipped up beside him and her hand slid open the zipper of his pants. He opened his mouth to protest and realized they were being watched, eyes, eyes, eyes everywhere. Her finger brushed against his lips, silencing him. She had him, just like that, in her game with him. Those red, red, red nails slipped into the open cavity of his pants and found him, stroking.

He curled his hands around the railing, staring hard at the bounty of sexual feasting that was occurring below them. He was spitted, trapped, held in place by his own lack of escape. He couldn't pull away, couldn't make a scene. He was, after all, here to play the game. The game. The game was this, sex and want and forbidden pleasure.

So long as no one spoke, no one on the head set could possibly know what was happening. She had to know that, had to. Because she worked his body like a whore even while her face showed nothing, offered nothing, but a tiny sly smile.

Game or not, he was a man. And that hand knew how to bring him pleasure. He dug his nails so hard into the railing, he was surprised it didn't crack and break beneath the force of it. The bitch in red. What was her end game here?

She slid her entire body behind him now, pressed against his back like a cat in heat, her hot, haunting little hands continued to stroke him. He ground his teeth, feeling the burgeoning betrayal of his erection offering her anything she wanted. His breath became labored, a little desperate.

His head dropped back with it and she turned her face and licked his earlobe, drew the delicate flesh between her teeth and nibbled. Her free hand slid up his chest over the expensive suit and pulled him tighter back against her. She pressed herself against his ass, rubbing against him.

As a secondary thing, trapped on the talons of his own torture, he knew people were talking close by. He knew they were saying important things that the other end of the communicator in his ear was hearing. This is why she'd brought him here, for intel, yes...and this. Because he'd run from her once, this was her revenge. He couldn't run now, not without alerting people to his purpose, not without alerting his team to what she was doing. The clever bitch: she had him right where she wanted him.

The sounds of sex and slapping skin floated up to them. Someone in the orgy was moaning, someone was gasping, someone was coming - fiercely by the sound of their screaming. His body hurt, physically hurt, from holding back his own release.

But he'd be damned if he'd give that to her too.

Someone close by was talking now about Gomez. It was all in Italian but he was fluent in a multitude of languages. He heard the name, it registered, it clicked, and he started to turn to hear more. She spun him around and he bumped against the railing on the balcony. He started to speak and she shook her head, gesturing.

The conversation was less than three feet away. Any distraction could ruin it. She smirked, slyly, and dropped to her knees in front of him. He shook his head, fiercely, angrily. She shrugged, slid her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and lowered them. He shook his head at her again, almost pleading now, and she smiled sweetly and put her mouth around him.

He curled his hands around the steel rods of the balcony, undone. He knew, she knew, it was like rape in a way. He could say no, he could stop it. He could stop her any time he wanted. But at what cost? This might be the only chance they had to get intel on Gomez. That was what he was here for, the mission.

She slid her mouth over him, wet and deep. He watched her red lips disappear over his pulsing shaft in a slow, torturous, breath stealing plunge. He panicked, feeling the rise of the orgasm fluttering at the edges of his rejection of her. He shifted his hands to her hair to pull her off of him and Joel's voice came over the communicator, "That's great! Wherever you are, Leon, stay right there. They are talking about where she's hiding. In a few minutes, we'll know exactly where she is!"

The hands that he been set to pull her off by the hair now settled into it, trapped. He was cupping her head without realizing it. She pulled off him with a wet pop of her mouth on his sticky dick and licked, licked, licked the dewy tip of him. He made some sound of desperate helplessness.

"Everything going good there, Leon? You're ok?"

She licked the length of his shaft and brought his voice out in a defeated whisper, "I'm good here. I'm good."

"Awesome! Just hang tight for a few more minutes and you'll be good to go."

Her mouth slid back over him. He grunted, defeated, and tightened his fingers in her hair. His head fell back again, his chest tightened. The wet sounds of her suckling him mingled with those from down below in the gallery. He panicked again, almost desperately, as the torture was simply too much. He tried to pull her off but she suctioned to him like a vampire trying to drain his will to live.

He shook his head in denial and his body did the rest. He pushed her face down on him, once, hard, and it ripped the orgasm out of him in a burst of shame and seed. His gasping curse was lost to the sounds of sexual gratification below them. He shuddered, biceps bunching, hands clenching in all that black hair.

She rose, wiping her thumb along her lower lips as she did. She leaned into him, sliding his briefs up his body, fastening his pants. The look on his face was murderous. The rage beat like angry butterfly wings between them. She smiled, slow and sly. She pressed her mouth to his and winked.

"Leon!" The voice in his ear was excited, "Hey! Something screwed the last few minutes of recording. I didn't get the address. Are they still talking?"

They weren't. They'd moved away and were lost in the crowd.

"No. They aren't. What do you mean something interfered?"

"The transmission went static. I didn't get the address."

Ada lifted a tiny lipstick with a blinking tip. A homemade jammer, she'd interrupted the signal. The rage increased ten fold. She'd just double fucked him in a single move. She stepped back from him, smiling sweetly.

Strapped to her inner thigh, in that red dress slit so high up it might as well have been a rag, a tape recorder proved his worst fear: she had the intel. And all he had was a sticky dick. He took a step toward her and she spun away. She lifted a finger and pointed.

He turned and saw what she was gesturing at, the staircase. When he turned back, she was gone. He clenched his fist in muted rage.

"I may know how to get the intel. I should go coms silent though. I have a lot of eyes on me here. I don't know how safe transmissions are."

"Roger." Joel's voice echoed back, "Radio silence for how long?"

He watched Ada disappear up the stairs, "Twenty minutes. I don't think it should take me longer than that. Get Chris ready once we had an address. Where's Rebecca?"

"She's here, working on a potential tranquilizer for Gomez."

He knew where this could lead. Only a fool couldn't see it. He hesitated and said, "Put her on for me real quick, Joel."

Her voice came over the ear piece, "Leon? Everything ok?"

He wasted no time with semantics. "It's Ada. She's here. She has the intel we need. She's playing games with me. She wants something. I'm afraid if I don't play, she's going to expose me and possibly Jill. But I made you a promise, a big one. So you tell me what to do."

Rebecca was so quiet. His heart hurt.

"Do what you need to do. Get the intel and let's finish this."

"And then?"

"And then you come back here and live up to your promise. And then we go home."

"We?"

"Yeah. We."

He drew a deep, deep, breath and let it loose. "Ok. Deal. Coms off."

"No.." Her voice was smooth and forceful, "I want to listen. Maybe...maybe then I'll understand it."

The thought of it, dirty and amazing, it speared into his groin. He took a staggered breath, "Rebecca..are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I know what you do to me...now show me what I do to you. What's it worth to get rid of her? Only you can answer that. Will you do whatever it takes to be free of her?"

He pressed his finger to the com in his ear as if, by pressing, he could touch her too. And he gave her that word, that word that meant everything and nothing between them.

"Yes."

He hurried toward the stairs. He left the coms on. He passed by faces in masks, smiling and sensual. A woman in a shimmering purple dress tried to waylay him by pressing herself against him.

Forced to play the game and maintain cover, he pressed her back against the wall of the stairs and kissed on her neck for a few moments. It was called "sampling" it was what one did in these type of parties. You sampled to decide if you were interested in tasting.

He stepped back from her when the polite amount of time had passed and sort of pushed her into another man as discreetly as possible. They didn't seem to mind and turned happily to each other. He hurried up the stairs to the top floor. He saw her red dress disappear into a room at the end of the hallway.

Leon slipped into the room after her. He started to say something and realized she wasn't alone. Two men were sampling her. She stood between them, watching him.

One used his mouth to play at her breasts where they were so perfectly framed by the V of her shimmering dress. The other was licking at her spine in the open back of it. He moved forward, done with the game, ready to chuck the other man out on their asses and shake the answers out of her.

She shook her head and hooked her hand around his tie, wrapping it around her fist to bring him toward her. The other two men stepped back, watching. Damn these people, he cursed internally, always happy to watch a show. Her face taunted him, daring him to make a scene.

He slipped his hand up her thigh and the recorder was gone.

Surprised, he met her eyes. She smiled, coyly.

He eyed the other men, debating on blowing the whole thing to get answers. He didn't want to endanger Jill wherever she was in the party. He couldn't bring himself to risk it. Instead, he asked quietly, "What do you want?"

Ada pulled him to her by his tie, and put her mouth to his to answer him, "Satisfaction. Give me that, I give you what you need. Fair trade."

He met her eyes, held them, "It won't be enough, Ada. Whatever this is, it will never be enough. When we're done here, it's done forever."

There was a gasp in his ear from the woman on the other end. But he meant it. Whatever it took, he had to be done. It was time to stop hiding in the darkness.

Ada jerked his tie, bringing a sound from his throat. "You'll regret it."

"No," He shook his head, "I'll regret it if I don't."

She smiled at him now and licked his mouth, "Then I better make this count. Play the game, get what you want. And I'll let you go."

"Swear it."

"I swear." She licked his mouth again, "Open your mouth."

In his ear, that soft voice whispered, "Turn on the camera. Let me see."

He froze, feeling the thunder of that instruction in his blood.

She must have felt his hesitance, as her voice came again, "I have to see it. I have to know. This is how we close the door, Leon. You wanted me to understand it. To do that, I have to see it."

He lifted his hand and tapped the knot of his tie. He wasn't sure what was about to happen but whatever it was, it was going to change everything.

Leon opened his mouth. He had no choice. Not really. He needed that intel, he needed free of her. He needed to try to start over, start fresh, and get out of the darkness that she brought with her. He couldn't think of anything he wouldn't do to be free of that.

He opened his mouth.

Her tongue slipped inside, her hand slid up his face to angle him to her. "Kiss me back."

He hesitated for a moment, glanced at the two men watching, and he kissed her back. She made a sound of need, curled her tongue with his and tried to devour the soul that was beyond it. Where would he draw the line, he wondered, even as desperately wanted to break free of her, where would he draw the line?

Would he fuck her to be free?

He'd told Rebecca he wouldn't hurt her again. He'd meant it.

She lifted his hand and slipped it into the open front of her dress. Her breast was smooth, warm, and the nipple hard and begging beneath his palm. Where would he draw the line?

She slid away from him and moved toward the bed in the center of the room. It was draped in black, canopied, and surrounded by gauzy curtains. She lay back upon it and crooked her finger at him.

At the other end of the camera, watching on the computer before her, Rebecca felt something catch at the back of her throat. She was beautiful, breathtaking. She was sin and sex and wanton desire. She was his darkness. And his darkness was perfect.

Where did she think she could really fit in all that darkness? Did she have any hope of keeping him, really keeping him, when this is what tempted him?

She opened her mouth to tell him to stop. To just stop. She couldn't watch this. She wasn't strong enough. She would break it. It would break her.

A hand settled on her shoulder and gripped. She glanced up. Chris stood there, looking down at her. There was some kind of soft strength on his face. "It's a mission, Rebecca. You know that. But if you tell him, he'll stop. He'll come back. You have to decide what you're willing to risk to find the answers."

She lifted her hand and gripped his, squeezing. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah," Chris glanced at the screen and the woman there, watching the man Rebecca loved with eager, haunting eyes, "She's beautiful. And deadly. You have to decide how much you trust him. And how much you want to know what she knows."

LadyFrost
LadyFrost
13 Followers