The Mask

She couldn't believe she had let her sister talk her into this. She was the older one, the one who was suppose to know better, but did she take that into consideration as Carrie-Anne dared her? Nope.

"This way," a harsh whisper said as a window was slowly opened. "It's not even locked, come on Randy." the whisper giggled.

"Don't call me Randy," she whispered back as she followed her sister into the window.

The room was dark, except for a light glow coming from what she assumed was a fire place. She heard a noise and backed into the velvet curtains that protected the window the girls had just sneaked through.

She blinked her eyes to become accustomed to the low light, then looked around for her sister. Nothing moved in the room. She stood there for a couple minutes, her hands hanging on to the curtain, as if that material would protect her, or make her invisible.

"Carrie-Anne?" she whispered. "Where are you?" she slowly moved into the room, glancing right from left. Slowly she gasped when she realized she was in a massive library. The ceiling was at least 20 feet high, and the room was lined with books. She loved to read, although her mother and sisters deemed it unladylike.

She momentarily forgot about her sister and ran her hand along a wall of books. She wanted to find a light and start reading. Slowly she turned around, as if coming to her senses. She still saw no sign of her sister.

"Carrie-Anne.. where are you?" she whispered, as she started to move in the other direction, closer to the fireplace. It was then she realized that the glow of the room came from the fireplace. Carrie-Anne had said this house was abandoned. That no one had lived here for years. If no one lived here, why was there a fire burning. Why was there no dust on the book cases?

"Carrie-Anne," she moaned. They had just broken into someone's house. She turned sharply back towards the window. She screamed as a loud crash came behind her. She turned sharply, and saw a broken vase which must have been on the table beside her.

She held her hands over her mouth, and looked around franticly. She had broken into a house, broke what could have been a price-less vase, and screamed. She turned again to run towards the window, but fell back when she hit something or someone.

She whimpered as she landed on her ass. Slow she looked up, hoping she had just run into a wall. It wasn't a wall, but a man. A very dark man staring down at her. She moved to back up, but gasped as she cut her hand on a piece of the vase.

She slowly brought her hand up to her breast, protecting it, while never taking her eyes off the man. She had never been so scared in her life. Why did she let Carrie-Anne talk her into this, and where was Carrie-Anne? Had this man already found her. Maybe killed her.

Slowly the man tilted his head, then knelled down. She let out a gasp as she realized he didn't' have a face. She blinked, then realized he had a face, but was wearing a dark mask. She once again tried to move back, but stopped when she felt more piece of the vase dig into her.

"Well, well, well," the deep voice of the man said, as he continued to stare at her. "What have we here?" He reached out and touched the girls face. It had been so long since he had touched a female. He let his fingers linger on her face, then run them down over her lips, which were open in a little gasp. He felt the girl tremble at his touch, it made him mad. Once women had thrown themselves at his feet, and now they trembled in fear.

He slowly stood up, then reached down and grabbed her arm and yanked her up, right against him. She let out a little cry as his arm came around her and held her against his body. He wanted her. He didn't give a shit who she was, why she was here, he just wanted to feel himself between her legs.

He would have loved to have just thrown her down and pushed himself in her, but he was a gentleman, or was at one point in his life. He took a deep breath, and looked down at her. She glanced up at him, and blinked a couple time, then put her hand on his chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when she gasped and tried to pull away.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered. He blinked and looked at her, wondering what she was sorry for? Breaking into his house? Breaking his things? Or making him want her so bad. "I got blood on you...." the girl looked back up at him with tears in here eyes. 
Blood? he thought, then looked down. Her hand was bleeding. There was blood on his shirt. He took a deep breath. Now this little chit did owe him something. And he was planning on collecting his payment.

Slowly the man started to push her towards the middle of the room. She didn't know what to do. When he grabbed her and pulled her up, she thought for sure he was going to kill her. Then she went and smeared blood all over his fine linen shirt. She knew nice material when she felt it. Which meant this masked man wasn't a servant. But the most likely the master of this manor. She was in deep trouble.

Slowly he continued to back her up, until she fell on to something soft. She felt around, soft velvet, then she realized she had just rubbed her bloody hand over his sofa. She whimpered and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I got blood...." she held up her hand. The man sighed. He reached down and grabbed her skirt, ripping it. She cried out, her mother was going to kill her. The man took the piece of material that he has ripped off, grabbed her hand and made a make shift bandage to stop the bleeding.

"There," the man said. "Now you will stop bleeding on my things." he spat out the last word. Then turned, and disappeared in to the darkness.

Slowly she sat up, and adjusted her self to sit on the sofa. She then saw his shadow over by the fireplace, with a flash, the fire grew bigger, shining more light in the room. She gasped again, looking around the elegant library. It was bigger then she had first thought. She looked back over at the fire place, above it was a painting of man. He looked to be in his early 20's, and was very good looking. Black hair, a bit on the long side, falling just over his left eye.

She looked away from the painting, then back at the man who stood at the fireplace. She could see that he also had black hair, the same style as the man in the picture. But he was wearing a mask over his face. She could only see his eyes and lips. She slowly licked her lips as she watched him.

He groaned silently as he watched her lick her lips. She still looked scare, but he really couldn't' blame her. After all he was a monster. Every woman who saw him screamed and ran the other way. But this girl had no where to run. He would bet his fortune that no one knew where she was.

He chuckled as he walked over to the one open window in the room. This is how she must have gotten in, he thought to himself, as he shut it, and locked it. He then looked over to his right, and noticed that door leading to the dining room was open a crack. He looked back at the girl and frowned. 
"Are you here alone?" He asked. The girl sniffed and shook her head. "Who are you with?" He demanded.

"My sister..." she whispered.

"And where is your sister?" He asked.

"I don't know," She said as she started to cry. He frowned, he hated see women cry, and this little slip of a girl was having an odd effect on him. Her eyes seemed to glow as they filled up with tears, her sensuous bottom lip trembled. He silently groaned again as he felt himself harden.

He walked over the the open door and looked into the dark dining room. A room he never used. He didn't see any movement. Slowly he closed the door and locked it. If this sister was around, Henry would find her, and give her the scare of her life.

"Why are you here?" The man asked as he started to walk back towards her. The girl didn't answer just stared at him. He stopped in front of her, looking down, and frowned. "Answer me." He commanded.

"We..." she sniffed and took a deep breath. She had never been so scared in her life. This man seemed very dangerous, dark and dangerous. He nodded to her to continue.

"We thought this house was empty..." she said as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. Very lady like, she thought afterwards. She blinked a couple times, then looked back up at the man. Who was just staring at her, waiting for her to continue her story. "Carrie-Anne, my sister, she likes investigating. We thought this house was empty, so we were going to look around. Not steal anything." She added as an after thought.

"How old is your sister?" he asked.

"Twelve."

"And you?"

"Eighteen."

The man almost laughed. "You let a 12-year-old talk you into breaking into a house? That you only thought was empty?" He almost couldn't believe his ears.

"She's very persuasive." she muttered.

"You should be old enough to know better," he stated. He almost felt like he should scald her for acting like a child. She wasn't a child. She was old enough to know better. Old enough to be married. He didn't like that thought. He didn't want her to be married. He wanted her to be his. But if she was married, why would her husband let her wander around in the middle of the night.

She was just a young girl, following her little sister out in the middle of the night, while their parents slept down the hall. She was old enough. That's all he needed to know. Slowly he moved and sat down beside her. He breathed in her scent, vanilla. Slowly he lifted up some of her hair and smelt it.

She froze as he sat down beside her. When he lifted up her hair and smelt it, she felt a weird feeling in her stomach. The same feeling she had when he had touched her face. Slowly his hand came up and took her chin, turning her face to face him. She finally looked into his eyes. They were grey and stormy looking.

He leaned in to kiss her. She had only been kissed once before, a couple months ago at a ball her mother had dragged her too. She had danced with a man, and he had tried to kiss her. It was horrible experience. One she didn't want to repeat, but she might with this unknown man. He watched the reaction in her eyes, he knew she was scared, but curious. He wondered if she had ever been kissed. He hoped not. Slowly he moved in and captured her lips. Only to pull back when she cried out.

"Ow.." she said as she brought her hand up to her lips. He narrowed his eyes. "The mask.... it's rough..." she said as if trying to explain herself.

The mask. The only thing stopping this girl from screaming and fainting in his presence. He frowned, he wasn't about to take it off, and he wasn't about to stop kissing her. She would just have to live with it.

He shrugged then grabbed her head, bringing it back to his, as his mouth captured her lips again, forcing them open with his tongue. He ignored her struggled to get away from him. He slowly pushed her down, then brought his hand up to her dress, just over her breast. He lifted his head and looked down at her. 
She was crying again, he could see the indents that the mask had left in her skin. He frowned. He truly had never tried kissing a woman with the mask on before. but there was nothing he could do about it. He moved his hand to rip off her dress, then thought better of it.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Slowly she turned and got off the sofa. Her hand went to her sore cheeks. She had enjoyed the kiss, even with the pain of the mask cutting into her. Now she wondered what he was going to do.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She turned, facing the fireplace. Looking back at the painting of the handsome man. She wondered if there were the same. If so, why was he wearing that mask, when he looked like that.

She gasped as she felt his fingers at the back of her dress, slowly undoing the buttons. She got that feeling in her stomach again. She knew that he was going to take off her dress. Maybe take off her undergarments too. Then what would he do? She had heard stories from married women about sex, but never figured she would experience it until she was married. She wasn't married. And she knew enough that if this man had sex with her, she would never be married.

"Turn around." he said in a husky voice. She turned around, and his hands came up, his fingers running over her breasts. She gasped as her nipples hardened. He smiled, and slowly pulled her dress down over her breast, to rest at her waist.

His fingers ran over her chemise, then lowered that as well. He then frowned at the corset. He hated these things. He reached over and grabbed a letter opener from the table behind him. He ordered her to turn around again, which she did. then he cut the lacings, and ripped the corset off her.

He muttered something to him self, then turned her back to face him. Her breast were directly in his face. Those perfect globes just waiting for him. His hand came up to cup her right breast. She gasped. He looked up at her.

She wasn't moving, but she wasn't pulling away. Just standing there with her mouth open a bit, her eyes wide, watching him. Not taking his eyes off her, he leaned in and took a nipple into his mouth. 
She gasped, her hand coming to rest on his head. The feeling was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She felt sick and dizzy. A warm feeling was developing between her legs. It was rather frightening, but she didn't want it to stop.

He moved his mouth to the other breast. Loving the sweet taste of her skin, the feeling of the soft and hardness in his mouth. He moved his arm to her back and pulled her closer to him. He groaned as she started to run her hands through her hair. It had been so long since he has tasted a woman's breasts. Way to long.

Slowly he left the nipple pop out of his mouth, then looked up at her, she looked dazed. Aroused, scared and dazed. He smiled as he stood up. He moved her so her legs were at against the sofa. He gave her a little push, and she fell back.

He leaned down, kissing her gently on the lips, then moved back to her breast, while his hand found their way under her skirt. He ripped her pantaloons off, then felt what he was looking for. 
The soft womanly folds. Slowly he ran his fingers along her outer lips, while his teeth toyed with her nipple. She cried out as he touched her special spot. The one place her mother had told her never to let any man except her husband touch. He was not her husband. She started to panic.

He raised his head slowly as he felt her start to squirm. He first thought she was trying to get closer to his hand, to his touches, but then he realized she was trying to get away. He was close to losing himself, and he was not going to let her get away.

"Stop it." He ordered.

"Don't..." she whispered. Fear replacing the arousal in her eyes.

He frowned. She stopped moving. His hand cupped her womanly parts and he just stared at her.

She whimpered. The feeling was so wonderful, so different, she didn't want him to stop. But he wasn't her husband. She was an Earl's daughter. She had to be pure on her wedding night.

"Please... you can't..." she whimpered again.

"Why can't I?" he asked as he licked at her ear, smiling as her felt her shudder with arousal.

"You aren't my husband."

"So?" he said as he looked down at her.

"I need to be pure for him.. Mama...."

"You get to be pure for me." He said with an evil smile. "I don't care what your future husband thinks. Tonight, you are going to be mine." He moved his hand from her wet pussy, to the bulge between his legs. Slowly he started to unlace his pants.

"Please, Mama told me not to let any man touch me there except my husband.." she pleaded.

"And did she also tell you not to break into houses?"

She moaned and closed her eyes. He had a point. She did break into his house. She broke his vase, stained his clothes and sofa, and now he was going to have sex with her. And there was nothing she could do.

She laid there, as she felt his hands on her legs,pushing them apart. She gasped as she felt something warm and wet against her. It took her a moment to realized it was his tongue. And it felt wonderful. 
She ignored the pain of the plaster mask digging into her inner thighs, and just concentrated on the feeling of his tongue, running up and down her slit, playing with her clit. She started to shake. She didn't know what was happening to her. A warm feeling in her stomach, then she arched and let out a cry.

He sat back with a smile as he watched her cum, he could just imagine how that pussy would feel clamping down on his penis. He was ready to find out.

Before she had a chance to come down off her organismic high, he plunged himself in to her. She let out a screams as she felt like someone just stabbed her. The sharp pain insider her felt like nothing she had ever felt before.

She knew he was over her, not moving. But he was in her. She panted then opened her eyes took into his. He waited until the pain left her eyes. He smiled, kissed her again then slowly started to move in her. 
She gasped at first, the feelings were so odd. She couldn't believe he was in her. That he was moving in her. She closed her eyes, her hand moved to rest on his shoulders. She ran her fingers over his back as she moved in her.

She then opened her eyes her left hand stopping on his shoulder. He watched her closely, knowing she could feel the scars that covered most of the left side of his body under his shirt. She gasped as he pushed deeper, then continued to touch him gently.

He started to move faster, fucking her deeply with every stroke. The past decade of not having a woman was more then he could take. He didn't ever want to let her go. He pushed deep and grunted, spilling his seed in her.

She gasped as she felt a warm liquid release in her. She was shocked.

"Did you pee in me?" she asked.

He grunted and closed his eyes to stop from laughing. It such an innocent comment, that he had to chuckle. He leaned down and kissed her

"No, my little one. That was just my seed."

"Seed?" she frowned.

"Yes, my man's seed. Sperm, is the correct term. It's how babies are made." He said as he pulled out of her with a moan. He moved to lay beside her on the sofa. She felt her move, a small moan escaped her mouth.

"You will probably be sore for a day or two," he commented. She slowly looked at him. He eyes were closed, and he looked relaxed. She wondered what her looked like under the mask, She had felt his shoulders, well his right shoulder, it felt hard and bumpy, some sort of scar covered it. She wonder if it covered his face took. 
 She leaned over and run her fingers through his hair, he sighed with contentment. She moved her hands close to the back of his head, then back to the top, not wanting him to realize she was going to try to take off the mask.

It has been so long since a woman had touched him, that he was just loving every moment of her hand in his hair. He was so relaxed, and almost happy. He smiled to himself, then his eye opened as he felt air against his face.

He turned and looked at her, her face was white and her eyes open. Her mouth in that little gasp that seemed so attractive only moments ago. She held his mask in her hand was just staring.

He moved and sat up, continuing to look at her, his hair fell in his face, half covering the scars. He blinked and looked at her, waiting for the scream, for the faint. For the cursing and hatred.

She just started. She had managed to catch him off guard, and got the mask off. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't what she saw. The right side of his face looked like a bad patched work quilt. A scar ran from the tip of his hair line, down to his chin, with a bunch of other little scars over it.. another one ran from his hear to the tip of his eye, then in a V went down to the tip of his lips.