Snow Mistress

  FORBIDDEN SECRETS

  BOOK 2:

  SNOW MISTRESS

  by

  Diana Rose Wilson

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  Published by

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

  Copyright © 2017 by DIANA ROSE WILSON

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-1-68299-253-1

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Kelly Martin

  Editor: Mary Caelsto

  Printed in the United States of America

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

  Wicked Masquerade: Forbidden Secrets

  Book 1

  Classic, classy eroticism and a believable combination of dialogue and introspection.

  ~ fanfare (Literotica)

  I enjoyed this book. It is an introduction to characters expanded upon in future stories. Characters are believable, and plot is fun. A good read.

  ~ Christine Lisle (Good Reads)

  It was absolutely wonderful, you can just feel the tenderness and affection they have for each other. I can't wait to read more about them.

  ~ Anonymous (Literotica)

  Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:

  www.torridbooks.com

  Forbidden Secrets Series

  Book 1: Wicked Masquerade

  SpiritBeasts Series

  Book 1: Lies That Blind

  Dedication

  To Eileen and the sisterhood of the traveling condoms.

  Chapter 1

  Friday, November 20, 2015

  “Wait!” A command and a slant of his black gaze flicked her way. Despite the steely set of his jaw and the tightness around his eyes, Ursa saw the corner of his mouth soften. “Please,” he amended before refocusing his attention on the street across from them.

  “If I must.” Ursa regarded the man, Leo Wolf, who never used that particular tone, and looked around to see what caught his attention and stalled them in the middle of the sidewalk. It was early and the sun was just coming up on a November morning. The cracked pavement thrummed with the commuter traffic sitting in the parking lot—make that freeway 880—crawling into San Francisco. The ugly apartment buildings slumped over the narrow street hid the view but did not lessen the noise.

  The tension spooled around him, tightening from his neck and shoulders down his arms until reaching his hands where his grip squeezed her fingers hard enough to hurt.

  “You need to tell me what’s going on.” She used the edge in her voice with care, just enough to make him break contact with whatever had put his back up. “Leo.”

  His name got through and this time he turned his head. He angled his body to put his larger frame between her and the disturbance.

  “Leo,” she said again when instead of responding his jaw flexed in tension. Thankfully he eased his grip on her hand. He stood over a foot taller than her and even though she was not a skinny woman, he made two of her at least, and moments like this, when he was primed for a fight, he seemed impossibly huge.

  “This area is dangerous,” he said through his teeth.

  “This area,” she used the same disparaging tone as he had, “is my neighborhood.” She didn’t need to remind him as he had carried her bags down from her dingy studio. True, she lived in an unsavory part of Oakland, but on a bookkeeper’s wages it was all she could manage. Not the accounting sort of bookkeeper, but a bookstore clerk. It was a great job that paid crap. The perks were spectacular though. Things money couldn’t buy. Like meeting her best friend and her lover because of the shop.

  He rolled one shoulder to ease the muscles from their tightened knot and nodded. “I should get you a guard dog. A Cane Corso. A big one. With guns.”

  “Very inner city of you,” she said and stood up on tiptoes and reached to touch his jaw, and finally he relaxed his neck enough to bow his head forward and nuzzle into her fingers. His skin looked so dark, gleaming like polished hardwood in the overcast morning light. She found the contrast of her pale fingers exotic. “They don’t allow dogs in the apartment,” she added and kissed the corner of his mouth.

  “Hmmm,” he murmured, not in pleasure, still guarded, his eyes open and fixed across the street.

  “What exactly did you see? Do we need to call the police?”

  He brought his gaze back to her, amused now, and almost laughed. “I don’t think so. No. Just thought someone was getting hurt but I think it’s just a drug deal. Lucky us.” With that, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles, rubbing over the spot he’d squeezed too hard, and continued to his car.

  Since their first actual date after returning to reality, they had agreed to meet at the bookstore. They had not spent a whole night together in the real world. Not because she didn’t want to be with him, but because she dreaded the reality of his coming to his senses. As her lover opened the door of the elegant black car, she saw his thoughtful expression and the wary regard he cast around them. It caused a nervous flutter to sprawl around in her stomach and chest.

  It was only a matter of time before he realized his mistake.

  She offered him a smile as casually as she could, but knew the stammers were about to come flapping out like awkward geese. She curled into the supple red leather of the Bentley’s seat. Yes, she’d recovered from the shock of his car. She no longer felt nauseous sitting in it, but only because she’d created several fantastic, orgasmic messes in it.

  Smoothing her hands along the quilted diamond pattern on the seat, she remembered their first date. Her high of excitement had been snuffed out when she’d seen the Bentley for the first time…

  * * * *

  “It’s only a car,” he whispered as his big hand caressed over the small of her back, guiding her toward it. “I swear it won’t bite you.”

  He swept the door open for her with a flourish and a brilliant smile while he waited for her to enter. The scent of leather and coffee swirled out of the interior and she turned a pleading look to him as she smiled. “I-I don’t—”

  “Princess, don’t worry. It’s a short drive to the restaurant.” His black eyes gleamed with joy as he inclined his head and brushed a kiss on her lips but broke it before she could deepen it with the hunger expanding from her heart to her sex. She was starving for something and it wasn’t food.

  “Where are you taking me for dinner?” She motioned to her comfortable jeans and shirt, suited for nothing fancier than burgers.

  “It’s down in the Square. Are you worried I’m going to do something to you?” He paused, his face serious and then a naughty smile slanted over his full lips. “Or are you hoping I’ll do something to you?”

  “N-no. I mean—” Her stomach tightened with the longing spreading through her. Despite the panic, she found herself returning his devastating smile. His unmasked face was breathtakingly handsome, his expression open as he searched her eyes, his desire as exposed on his chocolate, dark featu
res as her own felt. He opened his arms and crooked a finger in invitation.

  Her heart sped up as she took one step closer and another and soon she was in his arms and he enfolded her in the warmth of his embrace, nuzzling his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo while kissing down to her ear. “I promise, your every last deviant desire will be met.” His fingers squeezed her hips and slid over her ass.

  When she pushed him against the car, he didn’t stop her, just simply fell back against it with a soft grunt, surprised by her forcefulness. “I don’t want dinner,” she whispered into his neck, licking along the pulse point thundering under her tongue. The whole weekend they had been together she’d never allowed herself a taste of him. With him pinned against the car and at her mercy, she enjoyed the warm, salty flavor of the flawless skin.

  His head fell back and he hissed through his teeth as though the sensation shocked him. “Oh!” It was a pleased, breathless sound and he squeezed her ass harder. “I don’t think this is the right place, princess. People will see.”

  “Since when has that bothered you?”

  He moaned and arched toward her, letting her feel how hard he was in his tailored wool slacks. “I’m guarding your privacy rather than mine. Your coworker—”

  “Back of the car?” she asked between kissing his throat.

  “You actually want to get in the car now?” he teased but playfully eased her back, grinding his erection against her. With his back to the car, he opened the back door.

  “If I get what I need.”

  “Anything, princess,” he promised and stroked his fingers down her cheek and across the bridge of her nose as though tracing her freckles. “I’m yours to command.”

  She eyed the backseat with its luxurious red leather and then sucked in a breath and sat, slowly sliding into the warm interior. His hands slid over her body, reluctant to release her as she glided back. For a moment, he stood outside the car watching her with hooded eyes. Then he shrugged out of his gray jacket and tossed it into the passenger-side seat. One elegant eyebrow arched up in question.

  “Tie.” She shivered and clutched the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up to her stomach, and felt a hitch of shyness. He’d seen her curves displayed completely but somehow, without the mask, it felt terrifying to display her body. Watching his skilled fingers loosening the tie distracted her from her self-reflection and her mouth dropped open as she panted for breath. She needed him desperately. This slow stripping was killing her.

  The tie fluttered onto the seat as well and again he paused with a cocky little smile.

  “Belt,” she growled and pulled her shirt off over her head, displaying the plain lace bra embracing her breasts. Her nipples felt ready to pierce the fabric.

  He unfastened the belt, leather slithering through the loops as he pulled it free and tossed it to the front. Holding her gaze, he circled his wrists and gracefully unfastened the buttons of his cuffs. Then his fingers worked along the collar, opening the first few buttons with seductive slowness. With his chest showing almost to his navel, he shut the front door and climbed into the back to join her.

  The door whispered closed with a final click and the tinted windows shut them away from the real world. He bowed his head forward and kissed the soft swell of her stomach as she arched toward him. “Princess?” he asked between the soft, almost tentative kisses.

  “Yes, Cupid?” she asked, running her fingers through his curly hair, messing it from the neat arrangement so she could pull his face upward, toward her breasts.

  He kissed along her body as he was drawn, a soft growl bubbling up from his throat as he nosed the underside of her breasts through the simple lace.

  “I still want to use condoms…for a little while,” he said. His dark eyes lifted to hers and his head tipped in question. “I need small steps with this. All right?” He let out his breath and kissed between her breasts, breathing in her scent with a pleased murmur.

  She nodded in answer to him and released the handfuls of curls she was gripping and felt her heart sinking. “No more kisses then?”

  His hands cupped her cheeks and he leaned over her and his mouth settled firmly against hers. The kiss consumed her, his tongue darting between her lips with his answer. She moaned against his tongue, feeling it curl toward hers, tangling and caressing and luring her into him so he could suck along it. The taste of him filled her with minty chocolate and sunshine. In response, her body arched into his chest, his abs hard against her stomach.

  He caressed along her cheek and then swept up into her hair to pull her even closer. The scrape of his fingers against her scalp fractured any residual control she might have and she melted against him. Lust and need dampened her panties, threatening to soak through her jeans. His body covered hers, pressing her back into the seat with a soft sigh of leather and her whimpers of pleasure.

  They kissed without hesitation, hands tangled in hair, mouth to mouth, as they never had enjoyed before. At last his grip loosened but it took a few moments longer before he broke the kiss. The lingering caress of his tongue licked over her lower lip and he gazed down at her, watching her through heavy lashes.

  “All the kisses your devilish little heart desires, princess,” he whispered into her lips and kissed his way down her throat, suckling under her jaw before stopping to check the mark he’d left. With a growl of approval, he moved his kisses lower, nipping and licking her skin as though he’d never tasted anything like her.

  He grew more eager as he reached her breasts. “I have wanted to do this for days,” he growled, unhooking her bra to bare her to his ravenous eyes. As she squirmed, he flicked his tongue out, lapping across her nipple.

  The pink bud tightened under his attention, the hot stab of pleasure spreading from the contact of his tongue down to her pussy. Against her, he mmmmed low, the vibration of the sound shivering along her skin before he moved to the other nipple, curling his tongue around it while his dark eyes met hers. It was impossibly sexy watching him and she arched her back, longing for more.

  His lower lip brushed her nipple. “Beautiful,” he whispered and sucked the taut nipple into his mouth. His big hands cupped her breasts and squeezed in time with his sucking, his dark fingers stark against her creamy skin.

  She cried out as he flicked a thumb over one nipple and grasped the other between his teeth. Pain mingled with the pleasure and she shuddered under him. For several frantic heartbeats she struggled not to come in her panties.

  “God! Please! Cupid! Leo! Please!” Her legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing him, pulling him down toward her, grinding herself into his cock through his fine slacks in desperation.

  He moaned into the nipple he teased, giving one last roll of his tongue over her before releasing it with a slurping pop. “You’re so fucking hot.” His hand slid down her body to the front of her jeans and he cupped her sex through the fabric, and hissed through his teeth, “You’re soaked through!” Delighted surprise warmed his voice.

  Drawing back, he slipped his hand from her sex and breathed in the scent of her from his fingers, hesitating a moment as though he were considering putting them to his mouth. Time stretched and slowed for that instant and while her heart raced, she longed to watch his eyes while he tasted her. Instead he dropped his hands to the front of his pants, gracefully working them open.

  She ran her hands down her breasts, savoring the slick trail his mouth had left on her skin. She lingered over her nipples, pulling at them until his gaze burned through the shadowy interior of the car. They pulled down their pants together, a dance of bodies within the cramped interior of the leather seats.

  He held up a hand to stop her from reaching for him and wriggled up, grinding into her through his boxers and her underwear while he reached back and removed his wallet, sliding the foil-wrapped condom from inside.

  She took it from him before he could unwrap it. “Ribbed for her pleasure? Mmm, you are such a good boy.”

  He grinned wolfishly
at her and she crooked her finger at him to pull his boxers down, wriggling away from his tempting grinding. As his boxers came down off his sculpted hips, she admired again the length of his body reared over her. She hadn’t thought she’d ever see or feel him again. Never thought she’d taste him. Her mouth still burned like sunshine in the aftermath of their kisses.

  His cock strained forward, arching free of the top of his boxers with a bobbing movement, slapping up against his hard stomach, leaving a slick mark against the skin. The crown of his proud dick shined with pre-cum. She longed to lean in and press her mouth to his cock and lick the pearl beading at the head. Would it taste like he smelled, chocolatey and heated, or like his kisses, burning cold-hot mint? She controlled her urge and looked up the length of his body, dizzy with the magnificence of him.

  She teased him with a slow rock back and forth, pulling the thong from her rounded hips to slide the soaked fabric down her thighs. Her legs were spread, jeans hanging from one leg, one shoe on, the other off. His tailored slacks were pushed down to his ankles, his shirt open, one shoulder bare, white cotton contrasting his dark flesh. She felt her stomach tighten and her pussy ached. Her slick honey was definitely leaving a wet mark on the perfect leather. She cupped his balls in her palm with one hand and raked the other up his stomach and chest, memorizing the hard planes of him while he pulled the shirt off.

  He had watched her stripping with hungry eyes, and very slowly shrugged off the shirt, letting it slide off his arms and shoulders. She didn’t think she could get any wetter, but as the fabric whispered to the floorboard, the small, strong feathers flexed out and stretched from their hidden spot hugging his spine.

  Wings.

  She’d known all along they were not costume, nor imaginary!