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Niklaus

I couldn't help myself. The challenge had been set, somewhat forced by myself. Why had I pushed this subject so much? Why did this woman intrigue me so? From the first moment I set eyes on her, I wanted her. All of her. Her secrets, her desires, her thoughts, her fears, all of it. I wanted them all to myself. To know her like no other. Its intensity was baffling as I was well known for my restraint.

After seeing her in such a vulnerable position during her panic attack and the way she looked at me, relied on me at that moment, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to be the person there for her if she was going through something like that. I wanted to be the face she focused on so intently. The thought of someone else being there, especially some other guy, forces jealousy to flare up.

Looking at her gorgeous face now, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged, her anticipation of what is to come palpable, makes me want to claim her for myself. A brutish notion, I am well aware, but this primal need I am feeling topples all rational thought. The very idea of another man having this moment pushes me forward as I claim her lips with an intensity that conveys my possession. I want to brand her lips with mine so that no other lips will ever feel better than mine, no other lips will make her feel the way mine do. I pour those feelings into the moment, my lips devouring hers.

She doesn't need much encouragement, her thinly held restraint slipping as her hands grab the lapel of my jacket, her head lifting as she stands on her toes in an effort to get closer. The action is so sexy that I step forward, my body pushing hers against the wall of the elevator, my thigh pushing between her legs, as I grab both her hands, pinning them above her head.

My tongue enters her mouth, the taste of her sweet and intoxicating like a fine liquor. And familiar. Our tongues duel as her body pushes back against mine, memories of a time long ago flashing through my mind.

It was her. Allegra is the woman I have been looking for. The thought crashes down on me, flooding me with relief. I wanted it to be Allegra. I wanted the woman from my memory to be the woman in front of me. Confirmation has me growling into her mouth, her accompanying moan the perfect pairing.

The moment is cut abruptly short by the opening of the elevator door just as the lights in the confined space return to normal. While Allegra pulls away abruptly, I leisurely let go of her hands, which she immediately uses as a shield, covering her face in embarrassment.

"Sir, I'm so sorry to intrude," Albert says, his gruff voice behind us unmistakable. He was one of the doormen and also one of the staff who had been with the company the longest.

"No problem Albert. Please, give us a minute," I say, not moving from my spot in front of Allegra.

"Most certainly, sir," Albert responds, no doubt moving to the side of the corridor. I look back briefly, confirming that Albert is gone. I also notice the strategically positioned potted plant from the corridor placed at the foot of the elevator where the sensor is, keeping the door open. Albert needs a raise.

"Oh, my god." Allegra's voice sounds muffled and strained as she mumbles behind her hands.

"I told you. You bring out the worst in me. This isn't how I am," she says removing her hands, her tone clearly agitated.

"I'm not a toy you can play with, Niklaus." Her hands ball into fists at her sides, her words and tone making me take a step back.

"I never assumed you were Allegra. I don't understand why you are so angry. We kissed. We both wanted to, as much as you deny it." Her reaction was unusual and perplexing, completely overshadowing my joy at having found the woman that had been torturing me for years. The woman that had hindered my ability to settle down with anyone else as no one else could compete with her memory.

"I'm sorry, I need to go," she says, picking up her discarded keycard from the floor of the elevator before rushing off in the direction of her room.

I remain standing where I am, unsure of what to make of this situation.

"Are you okay, sir?" Albert asks, reappearing from wherever he has been hiding.

"Fine. Have the elevator technicians come?" I ask, agitation at the situation that has just transpired fueling the angry tone of my words.

"They are downstairs, sir." Albert takes a step back as I exit the elevator.

"Tell them I want a full report on what has caused this within the hour," I say gruffly, making my way to my room at the end of the hall. Passing by the door of the room Allegra is in, I almost stop, compelled to knock and see if everything is okay. Cursing myself, I continue onwards, entering my room as a combination of anger and confusion overtakes me.

I have never had a woman react to me in that way, especially after a kiss. Her passion during the kiss told me she wanted it as much as I did. Why would she push me away like that?

I'm pacing, the act unconscious, as I pull my jacket, bowtie, and waistcoat off, tossing them onto the couch as I head for the bar.

I pour myself a whiskey neat, the feel of the liquid sliding down my throat doing nothing to remove the lingering taste and feel of Allegra from my mouth. How could it? Nothing had removed it for years, so how would now be any different?

My mind returns to the Masquerade Christmas ball nearly four years ago, with Christmas only a week away.

It was a function I was forced to attend but one that changed my life. As the usual arrogant, self-absorbed horde drank and danced the night away, I slipped out onto the balcony, hoping for a reprieve from the constant requests to dance. Woman after woman approaching me, hope in their eyes that they were the one, the one that could break me, tame me, make me theirs. None of these women understood me. Knew me.

As I slipped through the balcony door, the first thing that hit me was the scent of jasmine and vanilla. It was a whisper, not overpowering like the perfume in the room I had just exited.

A woman stands, her elbows on the balcony railing, her chin resting on her hands. She was wearing a fitted ballroom dress, the green of the material the perfect contrast to her pale skin. Her one foot is hooked over the other as she is lost in thought, the dim light of the evening making her hair pinned up on her head appear black instead of the brown I now know it to be. She wears a black lace mask, the design intricate but not over the top like some. It's color the exact opposite of mine.

She is lost in thought, the sound of the door closing behind me doing nothing to pull her from her contemplation.

I clear my throat, not wanting to frighten her.

"Do you mind if I join you out here?" I ask her, stepping toward the balcony, leaving about a meter between us.

"Not at all," the woman says quietly, her brown eyes meeting mine briefly before she continues gazing out upon the garden which is lit by small fairy lights. It is a rose garden filled with only red roses. They are so pristine and well cared for they could be mistaken for being fake. The music playing inside can just be heard from out here, the soft melody indicating another love song is playing. It seemed to be the theme of the evening.

There is a comfortable silence between us as we each tend to our thoughts, mine of the recent, very public breakup I had gone through, hers of something I would never be privy to. Or so I thought.

"If only the masks we wear daily could be removed as easily as these. At least that way, we might know who we are dealing with, don't you think?" Her cryptic words break the silence, the small smile in her voice adding to the mystery of the words.

"Many are too afraid to drop their masks, the fear of their true selves being revealed too much for some," I say in response, eliciting a small laugh from her.

"I suppose. They do have their uses, I guess. Allow people to be who they are not. Actors in the world," she gestures with her hand, her body shifting to face me now. I mimic her pose, noticing the dimples that can just be seen under the mask when she smiles.

"If you could wear any mask, what would it be?" I ask her, continuing with this hypothetical conversation, the most interesting one I have had in a while with a woman.

"Mmm, that's a hard one," she says, her hand moving to her chin as she thinks.

"I would wear spontaneity. The complete opposite of my true self." Her eyes look at me briefly before looking away, not before I see a flash of sadness in them, her eyes almost appearing glassy at whatever emotion has arisen.

"It would be nice to be impulsive and be able to do whatever one wants without consequence. Don't you think?" Her question is rhetorical, but I answer it nonetheless.

"You can. Right now. What would you like to do?" My question has her smiling, her hand once again going to her chin as she thinks.

"I'd like to dance, in the garden, among the fairy lights," she says, the request so innocent, I am taken aback.

While she looks out at the fairy lights, I am looking at her. Of all the things this woman would want to do, she picks something so simple.

"Well then. Let's do it," I say, holding out my hand.

She hesitates for a couple of seconds, and then as if making up her mind, she takes my hand firmly, her determined eyes meeting mine.

Her hand in mine, I open the door, leading us through the throng of people at the edge of the dance floor, ignoring the looks I am getting. Reaching my destination, I open a door that leads out into the garden, closing it behind her before walking hand in hand down towards the area overlooked by the balcony we were standing on.

The balcony door remains open, music drifting from the dance floor above. It is a slow song, but this time I am not irritated. We face each other, her hand in mine as I pull her closer, my hand on her waist. She puts her hand on my chest as we slowly start moving to the music. We dance like we have danced together before, her taking my lead as if it is second nature. Like breathing. Her perfume is intoxicating, and as she looks up at me and I look back down at her, we move slowly toward each other. Our eyes close as our lips meet, the sweetness of her mouth imprinting on me, unknowingly branding me as hers. A name I do not hear is called in the distance, her mouth and body pulling away from me. She whispers a pained "sorry" before running off, leaving me destroyed for all others.  

And there it is. Fitted the title in so nicely lol. Please comment and vote :)