Dean & Lily - Masquerade Ball

Lily stepped into the the dimly lit ball room and looked around at the masquerade party. Elegant women glided across the floor in beautiful gowns and masks that ranged from simple to ornate. Men made powerful by their greed and little else patrolled the room in tuxedos and masks of their own, bits of decorated cloth adding yet another disguise to the layers of deception they always wore when handling business - and they were always handling business. Lily knew better than to allow herself the opportunity to fall prey to anyone who truly belonged at this masquerade, but the event's planner was a close friend who had insisted that Lily be her guest and enjoy a special night out. Now here she was amid some of the wealthiest, most powerful people in the city with her friend nowhere in sight.

Deciding she was unlikely to find her just standing inside the doorway, Lily worked her way further into the crowded room. She smiled and nodded at people as they passed. Between the low light and the masks, it was all but impossible to know for certain if she was greeting well known associates or complete strangers, but she couldn't help but search over their faces in a vain attempt to register some clue to each individual's identity.

She wondered if they were doing the same with her. She reached up to casually adjust the golden mask that so exquisitely accentuated her dark eyes. It was a perfect match for the new form-fitting dress she'd bought for the occasion. Her floor length gown was a shimmering gold and seemed to flutter around her ankles even when she stood still, the motion bringing constant attention to her gold stilettos. Her shoulders and arms were bare, revealing a lustrous tan that blended exquisitely with her dress and mask. She was a vision in gold but for full lips the shade of deepest red.

The deeper she got into the party, the more comfortable she became. Sure, it was a little unnerving to not be able to recognize anyone, but it also added an air of excitement. Lily hadn't really wanted to come to the ball, but she was beginning to decide she was glad that she had. With a growing bounce in her step, she widened her smile and made her way to the bar for a glass of champagne.

Not twenty feet away, a man yawned and checked his watch, once again considering trying to slip out of the party early. Surely his boss couldn't expect him to waste his entire evening on a social gathering. He'd tried working the business angle a few times, but he was having little success. Wearing a mask didn't suit him. He took another sip of gin and tonic, wishing he could allow himself to indulge a little more and maybe liven up the ball a bit. He sighed and brushed a drop of condensation from his jacket. At least the clothes were comfortable, he thought to himself. The tuxedo he'd worn to his brother's wedding was a pile of rags compared to the tailored ensemble his company had bought him. He had to admit that he really had little reason to complain. Trying his best to fight off the surly attitude, he adjusted his gold mask and set off for another drink. He worked his way through the crowd, idly noticing a golden shimmer that seemed to shadow his approach.

He put it out of his mind as he placed his order, leaving a generous tip as a fresh glass was set before him. He leaned against the bar and lifted his glass in salute to his fellow involuntary revelers before taking a quick sip. There was something wrong with his drink. He lifted the glass again and sniffed. The usual herbal smell was too strong he was almost certain that he caught the aroma of mint. He turned to flag down the bartender and almost dropped his glass when his eyes fell on the source of his golden shadow at the other end of the bar. Even after years apart and with her face hidden behind a mask, he knew Lily in an istant. Of course, the all-too-familiar scent of rosemary and mint helped. Uncertain whether she'd recognized him and not knowing yet if she was at the party with another man, he turned away slightly and nursed his drink, watching her from the corner of his eye.

Lily ordered a glass of champagne and steadied herself against the bar, trying to be patient as newcomers jostled her in their hurry to get drinks. The hairs on the back of Lily's neck raised and she glanced around to see what could have caused it. She furrowed her brows when nothing jumped out at her and finally shrugged the feeling away. She took a sip from the delicate flute and tossed her hair back, unable to keep from glancing around again, scanning the faces around the bar. Something had set her nerves on edge, but she couldn't tell what it was with all the masks.

The man at the other end of the bar took another sip of his gin and tonic, feeling more confident in his anonymity by the minute as Lily looked around. On one hand, it made him a little angry that she'd not recognized him, but the predator in him couldn't help but relish being an unknown danger on the edge of her awareness. She was glancing around uneasily and he could tell that she was nervous. He knew her too well.

He turned to get a better look up the bar, eyes hungrily drinking in every detail of her form. He'd been an idiot to let her go. Before he could realize it, he was staring at her openly. He could feel his jaw clench in anger as he imagined Lily with another man. Even after years of being apart he didn't think he'd be able to accept that. He narrowed his eyes and took another drink, the act obscuring his face as the cool liquid spread through him.

Lily finished off her champagne and set the flute down on the bar, looking around yet again as she did. She couldn't she anyone who was obviously staring at her, but she could feel it. So intent was her search that she jerked a little, startled, when a man stepped close, offering a glass of champagne and asking for a dance. She cleared her throat and laughed nervously, drinking the champagne a little too quickly in an effort to soothe her nerves and collect herself as she accepted the invitation, the newcomer sweeping her out onto the dance floor almost immediately.

The man at the bar narrowed his eyes and watched as Lily was led away by a man that must be her date. Realizing that his glass was empty, he started to order another drink but thought better of it. While he'd never had a problem holding his liquor, there was no point in pushing the limits and making a bad impression. Mask or no, unacceptable behavior would be identified and dealt with harshly. He thanked the bartender and offered another tip, deciding that it was finally time to leave the ball.

He skirted the dance floor, unable to keep from looking. His eyes found Lily of their own volition and he couldn't stop staring at her. He hated her for being with there someone else. He hated himself for letting her go in the first place. He hated her dance partner for daring to touch her. The man stopped in his tracks quite suddenly, nearly colliding with a server carrying a tray full of champagne flutes, and tilted his head in thought as he watched the couple dance.

The newcomer was holding Lily much closer than was appropriate for the event, with a hand settled very low on her back. She backed away from him a little, trying to put some space between them as they danced, but each time she moved away he pulled her back. The man from the bar decided that this newcomer couldn't be Lily's date after all. Even if he was, it was obvious that the man's advances were not appreciated. Nodding apology to the server, the man from the bar took a pair of flutes and walked out onto the dance floor without another thought.

"Lily!" he called. "There you are. I finally found us some drinks."

Lily's eyes snapped to the side when she heard her name called out over the music and the steady murmur of countless conversations. Relief filled her as she realized that some friend or another must have noticed her plight and decided to rescue her. She looked over the man carrying the champagne flutes, her body going rigid when her eyes locked onto his. All of the anxiety she felt at the bar hit her in a rush.

"Dean?" she stammered in shock. "What ...?"

Dean lifted the flutes and gave a little wave with each. "Our drinks. You were thirsty."

He turned and fixed his gaze upon Lily's dance partner, eyes narrowing as he looked down at the smaller man and spoke in a voiced that brooked no discussion.

"Thank you for keeping her company for this dance, but you can go now."

Lily continued to stare at Dean, absently noting her dance partner's obvious distaste at being so abruptly dismissed. He tightened his hold on her for an instant, but finally accepted Dean's intrusion. He backed away in resignation and turned to stalk into the crowd. The movement made Lily's hands fall to her sides and she simply continued staring at Dean, speechless. She swallowed hard and shook her head, finally managing to find her voice again.

"What are you doing here?" she murmured just barely loud enough to be heard above the masquerade's din, pulling Dean's attention from the man disappearing through the crowd. He turned his powerful gaze and disarming, crooked grin upon Lily, giving a little shrug as he casually deposited the two champagne flutes on the tray of yet another passing server. His familiar touch was on her almost immediately, sending a quiver through Lily's body as he guided her hands into place with little more than a thought.

Dean's right hand settled even lower than the previous man's as he led her to follow the music's rhythm. He looked down into her eyes and could tell she saw how the press of her body against him still made him feel after all their time apart. He turned to gaze out over the crowd, hoping for some wild distraction to clear the fog that her scent had set over his mind. He cleared his throat and realized he'd not answered her question.

"I had to come. This is my boss's party. He didn't give me a choice."

Lily barely registered his words. She was doing her best to keep her eyes on his chest. She was thankful he'd looked away first and given her an escape. It was a struggle to not think about their time together. Or the way his hand wouldn't have to slip much lower to be completely inappropriate. There had to be a polite way to draw free and escape.

"Why are you here?" she heard him ask and swallowed hard, closing her eyes and trying to find some small bit of focus.

"I... Well... My friend helped organize the party. I... uh... I promised I'd come... to lend moral support."

Dean bit back a smile. Lily was one of the most determined women he'd ever met. She was strong and had a will to match. But his touch drove her to distraction the same way her touch got to him. He took a deep breath to calm himself, barely resisting the urge to bury his face in her hair and drink in her scent. It felt so right to have her in his arms again.

"I see. I didn't know you were back in town." He shifted his feet to the music, spinning them through a turn that led them toward the center of the floor. He could feel her wild spirit trying to pull away and he was intent on keeping his hold on her. "What happened to California?"

Lily bit back a groan. Dean knew her too well. The deeper they got onto the dance floor, the harder it would be for her to extricate herself without making a scene - and she hated the thought of making a scene.

"I got bored and was offered a dream job here. I decided I couldn't pass it up and came back a few months ago," she answered, shrugging a slim shoulder as she looked around the crowd in hope of finding some means of escape. "My friend is probably wondering where I am. I should ... "

Dean pulled her tighter against him and Lily's voice wavered. The press of his body against hers was too much. She couldn't breathe. She could feel her body going rigid, unable to respond to her commands.

"You should ... have called me, Lily." Dean's grip on her hand was unshakeable. "I haven't stopped thinking of you. I never should have allowed you to leave."

A weighted silence hung over them and Lily couldn't help but look up. Dean's eyes captured her instantly.

"You belong with me, Lily," she felt, more than heard, him say. "You know it's true."

A tremor shot through her and Lily swallowed hard, shaking her head at Dean's words. She was almost panting for breath as she tried to twist free.

"No, I don't," she somehow made out in defiance, his strength too much for her. "Not any longer."

Dean could feel his eyes lighting up as he watched Lily struggle, noting each detail of her reactions to his words and touch. He felt as certain as ever that she'd never be able to deny him for long. But he did love the chase.

"Maybe that's been true for a little while, but fate didn't put us together like this without reason," Dean countered, giving her waist a squeeze and shifting Lily to hold her against his side. The dance had ended without her realizing it, and he was leading her from the floor toward a sparsely populated corner. "It's time I renew my claim on you, and this time you will stay where you belong."

Lily gasped and her mouth worked in wordless shock for several steps. Her heart raced and her eyes were impossibly wide. She swallowed hard again, licking suddenly dry lips. Finally, she found her voice and twisted against his hold.

"You! You will do no such thing!" she spat out, her body shaking with more feelings than she could ever identify. "I... Dean..."

Her defiance turned to sputtering as Dean ignored her and quickened his pace, pulling a struggling Lily along with him. He guided her deeper into the dark corner, far away from prying eyes. A marble column stretched from floor to ceiling and he led her behind it, stopping suddenly as they rounded the structure to pin her back against its cold, unforgiving surface in one smooth motion. He loomed over her, pressing impossible close. Gaze locked onto hers, Dean reached up to caress Lily's cheek and trail his fingertips down to "his" spot on her neck. His eyes narrowed when he noted how pristine it was, but he was also happy to find that no other man had marked Lily in his absence.

"You tried that same futile resistance the first time I marked you," Dean whispered, his voice a hypnotic growl. "Lie to yourself if you must, but you will always belong to me."

Lily shivered again, and she knew he had to have seen it. She was trembling visibly and struggling to breathe.

"We can't! Stop... Dammit, I ... I've moved on," she whispered, the words carrying no conviction.

He lowered his face to hers, pausing to breathe in her scent and slowly exhale. Dean eyes locked onto Lily's and he pressed his lips softly to hers, whispering, "Like hell you have."

His mouth moved over hers, nipping and sucking her lower lip, as the backs of his nails dragged over her long neck.

"Your body needs my touch just like I need to feel you responding to it. No other man will please you the way I do. No other man will be able to claim you as completely. No other man will ever have the pleasure of hearing you say the words you're aching to let out right this second."

Lily trembled against Dean's body, his touch and kisses setting her skin on fire. She gasped for breath and writhed against the column, trapped and helpless.

"No. You're wrong," she sobbed out as Dean rolled his wrist and gripped just below her jaw. She knew what was coming next. Very slowly, he turned her head to the side and buried his face in her neck. It was all Lily could do to keep from crying out as his lips trailed over her delicate skin. Her knees went weak, threatening to buckle if not for the way Dean pinned her against the column. "Damn you, Dean... Don't," she whimpered.

Dean simply smiled against her soft skin and left a trail of hot kisses from her neck to her ear. His grip shifted again, and strong fingers closed lightly around Lily's throat.

"To whom do you belong, Little One?"

Lily sobbed out and shook her head, gasping and letting her head fall back as Dean's hold became stronger. "No..."

"Don't you dare fucking deny me," Dean growled and tightened his hold on Lily's long, slender neck. He could feel her pulse and ragged breaths registering accutely to his touch. Nearly panting, himself, Dean kissed back down Lily's jawline, lips moving once more to her neck.

"I will mark you right here and now," he growled, eliciting yet another gasp from Lily. Her heart was pounding, breasts heaving with each harsh breath. She writhed against the column, eyes wide and flaring with a mixture of need, lust, and fear.

"Don't.... Dean, I can't!"

Dean knew her protest was nothing more than reactionary. He opened his mouth wide and dragged his teeth teasingly over her flesh, making Lily tremble even harder. Her body was hot and flushed and she could feel herself getting wetter by the second. It was all so overwhelming, and her eyes began to close. The feelings were too much. She couldn't look at him, too. Then his fingers tightend around her throat until her air was almost completely choked off, and Lily mewled in response, eyes widening again.

"This is your last chance, Lily," he warned, whispering sweetly. "I own you. You belong to me. You always will. You know it as well as I do. Just admit it and we can go upstairs where it's much more comfortable."

"You... You wouldn't," Lily made out through desperate gasps. "I don't! Damn you..."

Dean growled in her ear and choked her air off completely, covering her mouth with his other hand.

"You asked for it, Little One."

His teeth sank viciously into her vulnerable flesh, marking her flawless skin as he clenched his jaw and sucked on her neck. His tongue lashed repeatedly, savoring her taste while re-establishing his claim on her. Lily screamed into his hand and her body went taut against his. She struggled at first, the flight insinct too powerful to resist. And then she was his. She couldn't move any longer. Her body was rigid from the myriad sensations flowing through her, all of them swirling toward that one point on her neck where she could feel Dean marking her. Claiming her. Consuming her.

Dean moaned hungrily as Lily's body language shifted. He could feel her yielding to his dominance. Keeping his hand over her mouth, he eased his grip on her throat and traced down her body. Lily's back arched as Dean's fingers trailed down between her breasts and over her tummy. The thin, form-fitting dress offered little obstacle to his touch, and she sobbed out into his palm, sinking further against his body when Dean's strong hand closed over her mound. The heel of his hand teased expertly over her aching clit, urging her hips forward to grind into him.

Dean's tongue continued flashing over her skin and he clenched his jaw again and again, marking her severely and slowly lowering his hand from her mouth. Lily gasped out, writhing against him as his mark deepened, and her head fell back against the marble column. She was absolutely gushing with wetness now.

"Oh god," was all she could manage when Dean's hand finally left her mouth.

Dean lifted his mouth from her neck and stretched up tall. He loomed over Lily's ragged body, eyes boring into hers as he continued his assault on her mound. Her scent permeated the air around them.

"Tell me now," he growled out a whisper, "or I'll make you cum right here for your impertinence."

"Why are you doing this?" Lily gasped out, but her body betrayed her. Her hips bucked forward, eager for more. She clutched his shoulders tightly, desperate for something to anchor her to reality. "You wouldn't dare."

One corner of Dean's mouth lifted into a feral grin and he stared down at her. Snaking his free hand around her back, he grabbed her opposite wrist and jerked her tightly against him. His powerful embrace pinned both of her arms behind her back and he increased his assault on her growing heat.