It was a long hallway that stretched out before her, a plush red carpet under her slippers. There were four alternating wooden doors on the left, windows to the right, and the passage carved left at the end. Sconces lined the walls and were lit, illuminating the darkly suggestive paintings interspersed between each door.

Laughter, muffled voices, groaning sounds of pleasure lingered down the passage, freezing Nicola in place. Something was happening down these halls, she realised, something she shouldn't be a part of. A flush of excitement went through her and she moved forward, edging closer to the first door where the sounds were loudest, a woman shrieked and giggled.

It was such a wild sound, so uninhibited, she couldn't help but lean closer, intrigued.

"Naughty mouse," Jason growled, grabbing her from behind. She squeaked, so absorbed with whatever was transpiring behind the first door she had not heard him slip in from the other. He pulled her against his body, dropping his mouth to her ear. "Are you curious, Nicki love, about what is happening behind that door?"

She couldn't answer him, her voice was stuck, frozen by the torment of his hands that spanned her waist, one so close to her breast those long fingers were almost brushing against the lower part. She was aching for him to move just slightly, dip that hand higher. She nodded quickly, impatient now.

"Would you like me to show you?" His voice was a purr against her temple, his chin and lips nudging the ribbon of her mask.

There was more laughter now from behind those doors, more groaning both male and female alike. "Yes," Nicola breathed. It was all he needed, releasing her and taking her hand.

Jason began to lead her down the passage, throwing her a crooked grin over his shoulder. He looked so roguish just then, with his black mask, she could have swooned. "You may want to hitch those skirts," he said slyly, "we don't have much time."

She complied, gathering the shimmering fabric in her free hand, then he was pulling her again and they were running, running like they had through the forest the night of Lady Blackwood's picnic, running like they had through the field outside the village. Jason passed the three other doors, swerving left at the end of the passage, and continued down that one. More doors, to the left and the right this time. He ran with her to the end of that passage, which then veered right, and he followed that. "Do you know where you are going?" she demanded, wondering if perhaps he had enjoyed dalliances here before, or if he was enjoying running around in circles.

His look was exceedingly dry. "No. I am assuming that the further away we are from the start of this maze, the less likely we will run into someone, or find a room that is being, uh, occupied." He stopped suddenly, catching her as she bumped into him, listening for a moment at the door he had halted beside. "Think this one should be-" he opened the door, popped his head in round the side, and quickly withdrew again. "Never mind."

The next proved to be empty for he yanked her inside, closed the door and bolted it behind them. It was a bedroom- a small chamber with a glaring centrepiece that practically screamed what its sole purpose was for. In the middle against the far wall, a massive four poster bed, with a garishly yellow quilt spread over the top and red velvet curtains draped over the beams. Other than the bed, the only other furnishing was a nightstand and a fireplace.

"There's no other furniture in the room," Nicola commented and turned to him. Jason merely smiled, stalking her. She did not resist when his arms banded around her, his legs nudging her own backward, step for step, towards that vehemently suggestive bed.

"Nothing else is needed," he told her darkly.

"Really?"

"Nicki, what do you think people have come to do in these rooms? Have a spot of lunch?"

She frowned up at him, the back of her legs bumping against the bed. "So people don't eat here?"

"Not," Jason said meaningfully, "food."

"Then what?"

His eyes were devouring her with an intensity that lit her up with anticipation. Behind his mask, they simply burned, then his lips quirked subtly and he nudged her down onto the mattress, following her with his body. "I'll show you," he promised, shifting his length against her. A hand was on her hip, stroking small circles, and he propped himself up on his other arm, looking down at her, before dipping his head. His lips were teasingly urgent and she sucked in a breath at the first contact, waves of desire sweeping through her. He flicked his tongue against her bottom lip, a request, and she opened for him, moaning when his tongue slipped against hers, moaning against his desperately ardent mouth moving with hers. Everything she knew about kissing she had learnt from kissing him and she used her limited knowledge now to slide her tongue more boldly, pushing into him, and his shudder was answer enough that he enjoyed it, too.

She arched against him, revelling in the way his body was hard where hers was soft, her hands coming up of their own accord and gripping his shoulders, urging him into her. She loved the feel of him, and she knew she would never get enough, never be sated if this is what it was to be consumed by Jason Blackwood. His own hand drifted higher, over the dip of her waist, bunching the sheer fabric of her dress, then spanned the swell of her breast. She gasped, rocked into his palm, and his tongue slaked her deeper. A groan ripped from his throat as he shifted his hand higher still, his fingers dipping under the neckline of her gown, flexing around her flesh. He parted slightly, his hooded gaze dropping to where his hand was buried under the material. "Please tell me," he said huskily, urgently, "there is a way to remove this without a million little buttons down the back?"

With his hand down her bodice, his fingers doing something wicked to her nipple, Nicola couldn't formulate anything coherent right then. She shook her head.

"Fuck."

He notched a savage smile at her then, pressing his lips against the exposed skin of her neckline, his teeth dragging against her collarbone while his tongue flickered against a spot he favoured somewhere there, leaving her panting, her fingers gripping his shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, wanting more. When his mouth returned to hers, he whispered, his fingers still toying back and forth over her the hardened pebble of her nipple, "Later, I will disrobe you properly and have my way with your breasts." He kissed her again before she had time to absorb his words, consumed entirely by the pressure of his mouth, opening her, exploring her, claiming her with his tongue.

When he removed his hand from her breast, she cried out in wordless protest, a sound he caught with his mouth, laughing raggedly, as he trailed down the expanse of her flank. Then he shifted his weight, his knee between her thighs, spreading her, and he settled atop her, covering her. Her hips cradled his and even through the layers of fabric separating them, there was a hardness from him, aching and demanding, a thrilling pressure against an intimate part between her legs. Jason kissed her again, ruthlessly plundering her mouth and slaking his tongue, and she offered everything she had to him, willingly lost. Instinctually, she arched her hips, driving upwards against that part of him, urged by the insurgent need to have him closer, to have him there.

His breath was a hiss and he tore away from her, his eyes burning. "Such a wild thing," he murmured, appreciatively, before obliging her desire by rolling his hips against her, against the place that was aching and throbbing, shouting for him.

"Jason, please." She didn't recognise her voice, the sound of it, but her hands were moving over his arms, his waist and hips, urging him closer, urging him for more.

"Christ, you are beautiful," he praised, staring down at her while she writhed with abandon under him, but when her hands strayed to the front of his trousers, he barked out a laugh and stopped her by crushing their bodies together, stilling her explorations. "I can't take you tonight, darling, not like this." She wanted to rage and howl in protest, sure that he must be playing some cruel joke on her, but then he said, "But what gentleman would I be if I didn't give a lady something that she wants?"

Her eyes widened in question, but Jason reared up and dropped down to his knees at the end of the bed. His eyes were wicked, dark, and then he grabbed her hips, hoisting her down until her bottom only perched on the edge of the mattress. She gasped, shocked, but her gaze locked on his face, on his seductive smile, when his hands dipped under her skirts. "Now these," he said darkly, "are quicker to remove than buttons." His fingers were drifting over the sides of her calves, coils of desire tightening with every caress, bunching her skirts high with his movements. Then his hands spanned either sides of her thigh, and he seemed to realise then that he was wearing gloves for he put one hand to his mouth and ripped the garment off with his teeth, and then the other, tossing them to the floor and his touch returned. She lurched at the contact, so brazen and raw and close to the centre of her that was yearning for him. He sighed with pleasure, gathering the material of her skirts higher until they accumulated over her hips, then he searched against the fabric of her undergarments and petticoats for several moments, frowning, before a resounding rip rendered the air. Jason held up the ruined material with an unapologetic smile. "You'll have to do without this for the rest of the evening." It sent a hot shiver through her, and she must be wicked indeed to enjoy the idea of not having her undergarments under her dress... and Jason knowing it.

Her thighs were naked and exposed to him now, and his gaze dropped, the smile disappearing from his face. Replacing it, something ravenous and dark as he stared at her, his fingers spanning her inner thighs and spreading her wide. She was panting, her chest heaving as she watched him, the look on his face as he consumed the feminine part of her making her body quake in response. Then he raised his eyes, met hers with a savage intensity as she felt a finger graze against a feverish fold. Her mouth dropped open, her hips lurched at the contact, driving his touch lower, and his chuckle was harsh. "So demanding," he chided, stroking her slowly up, to a point of her that jolted with the contact of his finger, making her cry out as he continued to torment that spot, circling it with a teasing slowness. "Do you like that, Nicki?" he demanded, his eyes remaining unmoved from hers.

She nodded, jerkily, the movement of his finger quickening and those coils of hot liquid pleasure within her were tightening, building in pressure-

"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a far-off thing she had to focus on, panting raggedly. His finger left that point all of a sudden and her hips jerked off the mattress in protest. She cried out, bereft. "Tell me, Nicki."

"Yes, please, Jason-" The finger he slid inside her pulsing entrance made her stiffen and groan, new sensations overriding the others. She felt him moving, sliding in and out of her with an aching slowness that made her writhe, but when his head dipped and his teeth bit into the top of her thigh... she almost screamed.

He hitched her legs up, settling them over his shoulders, and then his tongue trailed a wicked path down her thigh. His lips pressed against her intimately, nuzzling her in earnest while he removed his finger that was still embedded within her, replacing it with the invasive softness of his tongue. Her back bowed against the mattress, hips bucking at what he was doing, the pulse that was throbbing between her legs almost exploding at the feel of his tongue delving inside her, again and again and again.

It was too much, too wicked, her head thrashed against the mattress, her fingers curling into the quilt. Jason moved again, this tongue licking a burning trail from her entrance to the pinnacle of those sensitive nerves, his jaw and chin a pleasurable and abrasive caress against her overly sensitive flesh, and his expert finger once more replaced the absence of his tongue. His hand and mouth worked her with simultaneous, torturous precision, and Nicola was lost. The sight of him between her thighs, his mouth opening on the most secretive centre of her being- then he bared his teeth, smiling up at her, brazenly raking them over her before closing his lips over that hard part of sensation, pulling forcefully enough to hollow his cheeks.

Whatever had been building within her exploded violently. It shook her body, convulsed her entire being with electric release. She was sobbing as wave after wave of blinding ecstasy expanded through her body. Her thighs clamped and quivered, her hips thrusting against his lips and fingers wildly. Gradually, the sensation resided, and she quivered in the aftermath like a brittle leaf.

Jason's fingers had slowed and he bestowed one last kiss before he shifted, the movement causing Nicola to open her eyes and focus on him, breathing hard. "You are magnificent, Nicki," he murmured. His fingers retracted and, mesmerized, she watched as he trailed her wetness along the inside of her thigh- her arousal, her release. She shuddered at the gesture, but Jason tilted his head, his tongue following the path of those fingers.

Something flared anew within her, shock and arousal at his brazenness, and she groaned, her thigh jerking against his mouth. He laughed darkly and retracted, gently righting her skirts. Shocked that he could even move while her body felt like liquid, Nicola could only stare at him. He rolled to his feet and she saw the impact of their love-making clearly ridged against the front of his trousers. He caught her gaze and returned it with a sinful look. "I am afraid time is against us tonight, darling." Jason held out his hand and Nicki took it with shaking fingers. "Any other evening, any other place, you wouldn't be leaving the bed so soon, trust me." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at the floor and collecting the torn remains of her undergarments. He grinned at her suggestively as he pocketed them.

"You-"

"I'll give them back," he promised, giving her a wink as he took her hand, "but allow me the pleasure of getting through the rest of this evening knowing that you are not wearing anything under that pretty dress, and that they are in my pocket."

He would be the end of her. She knew it. She felt her face flush and knew that if she joined the ballroom again there would be tell-tale signs of her illicit rendezvous with him. "You are terrible," she breathed, finding her words at last.

"Mmm, but you do so enjoy it." He pulled her towards the door of the chamber, unbolting it. Jason leaned down, kissing her tenderly, and tipped her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. "Do you trust me, Nicki?"

Probably more than she should, she thought with a little sadness as she studied him, his silver eyes brimming with heat and tenderness. "I believe I do," she told him softly.

It earned her a smile. "Go out first, straight to our group if you can find them," he instructed her. "Keep your head down, try to hide if anyone comes into the passage."

"What about you?" she asked, trying not to let her voice betray how much she needed to see him again after this.

Jason seemed to read that emotion all too quickly despite any attempt on her part to hide it. He pulled her against him, engulfing her in his heady scent and the scent of their lovemaking. "I'll be out soon, let them not see us re-join the party together, love." Then he opened the door and nudged her out, slapping her bottom which earned him an indignant gasp but before she could turn to throw him a glare, he had closed the door in her face.

Huffing, reeling, and trembling, Nicola felt suitably frazzled. Remembering his instructions, she moved swiftly back through the passages, straining her memory to recall the way they had come, until she slipped outside into the crowded ballroom again.

It was easy to merge with the heave and sway of people as they mingled, but it took her several minutes to locate someone she recognised.

Blanche grabbed her arm and pulled her close to the other two people beside them. It seemed most of them had veered off and separated for only Lady Weatherly and her husband remained with Blanche. "There you are!" she said. "Where have you been?"

She did not flush but the guilt that was rushing through her surely would be visible on her countenance, mask or no. "Mingling," Nicola lied with a shrug, hoping her friends would accept it. "Where are the others? I can't seem to see anyone I know."

"Well, Mr Southill is certainly visible," Blanche muttered with distaste and Nicola followed her gaze, noting the huge man on the other side of the room with Lord Hollingsworth, both of whom were chatting with a group of prettily masked women and looking rather pleased about it. No wonder Blanche appeared put out.

"I believe Lady Blackwood and Victoria went off in search of you," Emily told Nicola in a suggestive voice. "Coincidentally, we can't seem to find Lord Blackwood as well. Funny, that."

"Now, dear," Sebastian chided, grinning down at his small wife, "your insinuations can't be too obvious. Unless you doubt Miss Eversley's penchant for innocence."

"It is not Miss Eversley who I doubt," Emily retorted.

Nicola was finding it very difficult to keep a straight face during the conversation, vividly recalling what she had been doing with the man in question not moments before, but she schooled her features into a bland smile. "I have not seen Jason since our last dance," she said smoothly, the lie making her toes curl in her slippers.

"Indeed," the man in question agreed as he slid into their midst, standing close beside Nicola. Even now, her body warmed at his nearness, and she stared up at him, noting the smooth unperturbed tilt of his lips as if naught was amiss, as if that mouth had not inflicted something sinful and wonderful to her a few moments ago. "Very easy to get distracted at a masquerade."

Sebastian Weatherly chuckled darkly, earning him a severe frown from his wife. "What are you laughing at?"

"Distractions, my dear," he murmured, looking down at her with a telling smile. "Bad ones."

"Oh." Then her eyes widened and she glanced at Jason. "Oh." Then her bright green eyes swivelled to Nicola. "Really, Miss Eversley, we shouldn't let you out of our sight again."

"Why not? I have done nothing amiss."