Chapter 2

“Didn’t anybody ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” Her voice was a husky alto, soft and rich, but she hadn’t even turned her head in his direction as she spoke. “Unless impolite is what you’re going for.”

Dante didn’t look away, and he didn’t feel a flush of shame at being called on for his rude behavior. “I have a feeling if you didn’t like being stared at, you would have chosen a more…modest costume.”

She tilted her head just enough to peek around her thick curtain of hair. “And how do you know this isn’tmodest for me?”

Dante smiled. “To be fair, I don’t know anything about you. What’s your name?”

She clicked her tongue. “It’s a masquerade party. Tonight, everyone calls me Mistress.” Those sooty lashes ducked as her attention swept over his cape and Phantom mask. He almost wished he’d put a little more thought into the costume now. “And if you ask nicely, boy, I’ll even let you call me that.”

His eyes widened. Was it possible she didn’t know who he was? Because nobodyin that building would dare to talk to him like that, even in a playful way. But despite his surprise, he found he really didn’t mind. In fact, he was taking another step toward her. “Ask nicely? I’m not really the asking type. I’m more inclined to just take what I want.”

Slowly, she put down her foot and straightened to her full height. She would have been a tall woman even without the boots, but in the four-inch heels, she matched his six-one.

“We have a problem, then.” Though she didn’t raise her voice, there was no denying the command behind her words. “Because nobody gets anything from me unless I expressly desire it. Anyone who tries usually gets punished.”

Dante’s gaze was drawn to the whip once again. It had been…years since anybody had punished him. It would be dangerous to continue this game. If word got out that the CEO liked to be bent over and paddled like a misbehaving child…But he couldn’t force himself to walk away from her

“Punished? I don’t think you have it in you.”

“Then why did you follow me out here, boy?”

Dante stood close enough to touch her now, but he kept his hands at his side. She didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the way he invaded her personal space. In fact, her eyes were locked with his while she waited for an answer to her question.

“Because I wanted to know your name…Mistress.”

Her mouth curved into a small, pleased smile. At her side, she began to rotate her wrist, letting the whip swing in tiny, hypnotic circles. “You say that very prettily. Now I’m torn between wanting to punish you for ogling me or rewarding you. Decisions, decisions.”

The promise behind her words was enough to make him ache. A part of his brain set to work concocting explanations and justifications—I was drunk, it’s Halloween, I was temporarily insane, sometimes crazy things happen.

“Would it help you make up your mind if I took you somewhere a bit more private?”

The whip cracked, and even through his pants, he felt the sharp sting of the leather where it snapped over his thigh. Dante hissed in surprise, but by the time he glanced down, she already had the whip circling again at her side.

“If you know my name, use it, boy,” she warned. “Otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

Dante’s cock stiffened, and he was forced to adjust himself as subtly as he could—which wasn’t that subtle. “Would you like me to find someplace more private, Mistress?”

She didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to slowly walk around him, her eyes narrowed in thoughtful scrutiny as they swept over him. Dante didn’t move, though he itched to turn his head and follow her path. By the time she returned to stand in front of him, his cock was at full attention, throbbing in anticipation.

“Yes.” Reaching out, she traced a long fingernail along the line of his erection. “I think I’d like that very much.”

Dante always personally reserved a large block of rooms for his employees and their after-party recovery. He often reserved a suite for himself and stayed in the hotel for the whole weekend—it made an excellent mini-vacation. He nodded toward the elevator, pausing a moment to make sure she’d follow him, before leading her to the end of the hall.

The woman didn’t touch him, didn’t speak to him, and didn’t even look at him during the long ride up to his suite. Her apparent indifference only increased his desire. He wanted to do anything and everything to her body, but more than that, he wanted to let her do whatever she wanted to his. Now, oddly, her identity seemed less important. If she just wanted to be his mistress for the night, he could agree to that.