Master of the Opera, Act 5: A Haunting Duet Read Free

of her, and his big hands slid up her back, one cupping the nape of her neck, urging her down to kiss him again. They savored one another for a while, mouths interweaving like melody and harmony, desire rising again between them, growing out of every spot their skin touched, candlelight dancing over them in a warm blessing.
    She sat up. Gathered herself. It was time to show all of herself to him.
    Working the knife blade under the fabric wrapping her waist, she sliced it away. The Master watched, his hands on her thighs. She shrugged the gold belt away, along with the shard of silk that had been trapped beneath it. Without judgment he took in the chain of scars across her belly, where she’d carved out her pain.
    The Master’s hands slid up her thighs and feathered over her belly, caressing her, touching the soft skin between the evil lines. Accepting them as both part of her and unimportant. Holding her like this, his large hands nearly spanned her waist, holding her safe and loved.
    Gravely, the Master wrapped his hand around hers, holding the blade through her agency. He brought it up to the side of his head, turning his face away and sliding the point under the ribbon that bound the mask to his face.
    Steadying the massive knife with her other hand, because she trembled with the surging emotions tossing her on their waves, she cut the ribbon.
    The mask fell away.
    He rolled his head back to face her fully, the crystalline blue of his eyes deepening with the same tide of feeling, his heart thumping against the wet core of her womanhood.
    Whatever had happened to his face had been different from the knife wound. His cheek and temple on the left side looked partially melted away, like chocolate left in the sun. Finally unwrapping her hand from the knife they no longer needed, she tossed it aside and cupped his face in her palms, fingers caressing the scars and the whole skin alike, and kissed him.
    Straightening her legs, she stretched herself out over him, their mouths joined, each holding the other’s scars. She felt like a tea cozy, a bit of lace draped over the top of his powerful body.
    Her sex throbbed for more of him and his cock rose hot and hard against her belly. Their kisses grew deeper, more demanding, more desperate.
    He rolled her over onto her back and she barely registered the sting of abraded flesh and bruised muscle. He took her wrists in his hands and stretched her arms above her head. She spread her legs and took him between them, raising her hips in welcome.
    He plunged into her slick and willing flesh, swallowing her cry of intense pleasure with his mouth. Setting the rhythm to a strong and steady percussion, like the beat of his heart, he worked his cock in and out. Her legs wrapped around his waist, held fast by his hands and mouth, she opened to him, yielding with each thrust, opening for him like the roses piled around them.
     
    She must have fallen asleep, because she woke, still on the polished black altar, cuddled into the curl of his body, her sore bottom pressed against his muscular thighs.
    His hand smoothed her hair back from her cheek and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Then he sat up and stepped down from the slab, gathering his clothes. She sat, her knees curled to the side, watching his powerful muscles gather and bunch as he dressed. He moved better, now, more smoothly, though the wound in his gut looked much the same.
    He replaced the mask, tying the ends of the sliced ribbon together, his icy-blue gaze growing inscrutable behind it. The gloves, though, he left off, and his hands traveled over her nakedness as if savoring every touch, as he gathered her once again in his arms, carrying her like a bride over the threshold.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed into him, placing little kisses along his temple, cheek, and throat. He carried her down the hill, along the switchback path that led to the glassy lake. Over his shoulder, she could see the candles wink