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Your aunt was very, very drunk.
She could easily fall apart with a second cocktail, but apparently it was the eighth glass of champagne is the one that did-her-in tonight. Escorted, half-carried to a more private room where she could sober up, you mentally counted down the seconds from the moment your chaperones form got out-of-view, to the moment he would appear at your side.
It took exactly twenty-six seconds, before a gloved hand touched your elbow. With an embroidered coat-sleeve gliding along your arm, a palm slid into yours before fingers interlocked, and finally, you were once more his.
“My lovely, it’s been too long,” the purr rumbled next to your ear. “Only about three or four songs,” You commented back when the goosebumps faded, and caught the edge of a crooked smirk, peeking from the half-mask that covered his face. Pitch-black, it seemed nearly molded to the right-side of his angular face, with red and gold designing mimicking the curves and sharper angles of his countenance that were hidden from view.
The dark colors matched with the highlight of his mask; a black-sclera with burning iris peeking from the eyehole of his masquerade. You weren’t sure if it was an effect or truth, but it scorched through your body all the same.
“As I said,” He murmured, guiding your gloved-hand up to his mouth, the press of his lips felt even through the expensive layer of satin. “Too long.”
It was magnetic, the space between you and him.
A pull so strong you didn’t dare touch a glass, for worry it would dull the sensations. And he had set his own barely-touched one down the moment he caught your eye as you elegantly glided down the great-hall’s staircase.
Forgotten, the stranger had slipped into the elegantly and smartly dressed crowd. Materializing like a sudden, silent storm at your side with the next dance, and a silent, offered hand.
Your aunt allowed the first two, was frowning by the third, and at the conclusion of the fifth song, all but snatched you from his arms. “You are an heiress.” She’d hissed, stumbling slightly as she dragged you from the less-populated corner you and your dance-partner had been gravitated towards. “Piltover’s most upstanding and finest are here, at least have the decency to browse the selection.”
You had.
It had consisted of generals, high-classed merchants, more-than-one bankers and astute judicials. The glimpse of a councilors trimmed-coat was even thought to be seen, but while most were able to easily deduce one-another, you hardly cared for mingling with your fellow countrymen, playing at secrecy.
The desire of the mystery, from the one man who you didn’t have a prayer of identifying, was too intoxicating for you to pay any mind to a single other in the room.
'Browse the selection,’ she had said before her words started slurring in true.
How could you even consider browsing, when you had already made the greatest find?
“Another dance, or have the other ladies worn you out?” You teased, knowing full well he had been left halfway sulking in the corner. A snort sounded, as your chosen-stranger lifted his chin to gaze boredly at the other patrons and guests of this annual gala. Something cool entered his tone, like he was serious in his following quip, “Just the thought of giving them energy tires me.”
A hum, and you subtly tugged on his arm woven with yours, pulling his attention back to you. You smiled up, raising a brow over your own elaborate eye-mask around your eyes. “Not too tired, I hope? The night is still relatively young…” There was a glimmer of want in the exposed bright, cyan eye at your suggestive cooing.
“I think you’ll learn that I could go-on for quite a long time, darling.”
You were glad he soon proved to be a man of words, and action.
The two of you didn’t even last another two song, and half-escorting, partially tugging him from the ballroom, your practiced steps to the nearest private study was quick, much to his amusement. “Careful, you’ll almost seem eager,” He teased, for a moment a cheeky gentleman, but then he swooped down to whisper into your ear, now more akin to living seduction.
“Are you always so eager at the prospect of fucking a stranger?”
“Hm… maybe you’re a special-case.”
How you managed your words out without shuddering, you had no clue, but you managed to resist melting into his clutches until after the study door was shut. Fingers finding the loveseat-side lamp to give an illusion of light as his arms wound from behind you soon after. One slipping just beneath your chest, while to other creeped across the expanse of your exposed neckline, fingers leaving tingling lines on your flesh as he murmured from just above and behind you, “A special case, am I? Then I suppose it’s only polite to make it a very special evening.”
Shivers rolled down your skin as his fingers caressed at your neck, outlining your jugular, and you rolled your head back to rest back on his shoulder. You didn’t offer any name, nor did he, only snaking his hand from around your throat to grasp your chin. Pinching it softly between fingers, before he turned your head to kiss you as deeply. As if you were familiar lovers, instead of perfect strangers.
You needlingly dug your nails into the arm around you as he seemed insistent on taking this slow, before growing frustrated and tearing your gloves off in swift movements. A rumbling chuckle sounded into your mouth as you tossed them aside, though soon his own short, leather gloves came to follow.
Then the coat, though he took his time with it. Your earrings, also carelessly thrown. Heels were kicked off, boots tugged free, and by the time you were being lowered onto the couch, hair and mask askew while his own remained secured on his face, your only remaining cover was the dress.
You nearly tore it from your body, before an open, bemused laugh sounded and your hands were grabbed warmly in his own.
“You’ll get what you want, but allow me the chance to savor this,” His chiding was soft, but his grip you a firm-squeeze around your hands before he dropped them, slowly swinging one leg over your body to straddle you as his palms rested on your chest. The man was slender, but loomed over you. Even more so with you reclining on your back, while the shades of the room only sharpened the contours of his half-masked face. “I rather like this image, and being my first time seeing it, I’m looking to enjoy it for all it’s worth…”
A squeeze of his hands through the fabric of your gown on your chest redirected your attention, and by the time he slowly slid those hands up to hook a single finger beneath each strap of your gown, you were breathing heavy.
“Promise I’ll get it?” You whisper as he takes his sweet time sliding down your sleeves, allowing you to work your arms up through them when necessary. “You seem to be taking your time-” “And you Topsiders seem to have no patience, even when the night is still relatively young.”
Despite the nip in his voice, a warning, you caught the way his exposed blue eye drank in the every-details of your exposed skin, and you flushed darker when you caught the peek of a tongue flicked out over his lips as he worked down the top half of your dress.
The Topsider comment should’ve given you pause, and taken the time to deduce this clue to his identity. But you found it hard to care about little else from this man as he leaned down to begin abusing and wrecking the soft skin of your neck and collarbone.
You had necklaces of fine jewels and diamonds, but you knew this one of bruises would be your favorite.
All the while, he darkly growled in delight with every whimper or cry he pulled from your lips. Only growing louder as his hands reached beneath you to unhook your brassiere, which he barely worked to move aside before moving further down, and taking a stiffened nub between chipped teeth.
“Fuck,” You hissed, hand snapping up to grip at dark hair at suction, letting out a panting moan as his tongue swirled. Careful not to let your fingers catch on the tie holding the mask to his face, your other hand came up to hang onto the short locks as he popped off his mouth, latching onto the other nipple while you arched into the attack of lips and teeth. “Fuck.”
“What’ll they say come morning, hm?” Mused the man as he finally leaned up from your chest, granting you a shudder as his fingertips grazed over the stiffened peaks, one breast now sporting a rather-telling indent of a gentle, but marking bite. “Do you a plan for when you walk out, limp-legged and marked for all to see? Plan to tell them about the mystery-man who did this to your body, all without ever getting a name?”
“I’ll-” You let out a small keen as fingers pinched, rolling at the sensitive nub of your nipple between the pads of his fingertips as you arched up, gasping out, “… I’ll tell them how I wish he could’ve left more evidence.”
This earned another look of pure-fire from the eye behind the masked-side of his face, and there was little-less patience in his hands as he shuffled off your body, and started tugging impatiently at your gown.
With the combined, eager efforts of both you and your masked-stranger, your very expensive, perfectly tailored goan was left ripped and thrown onto the floor, while his hands stroked up your exposed inner thighs. “By the time I’m done, you’ll have more than enough evidence of this night,” He vowed, again flicking out his tongue-tip to wet his bottom-lip as he took in the soaked lace undergarments, your juices already staining the fabric. “I imagine you won’t be able to look at many things without thinking about our time together… this study, your dress, the dance-floor, your neck…”
A hoarse chuckle sounded as he slid a finger down to catch at the strap of your twin-garters, pulling them back to snap the elastic bands against the skin of your thighs once, bringing your hooded gaze back onto his face.
“What more do you want to remember this night?” He asked, to casually as his fingers glided further up, teasing at the apex of your thighs. “Tell me.” You shuddered and pressed your head back as fingertips played at the hem of your wet panties, but kept his eyes on him as his own green eye flicked from between visual devouring of your soaking, covered pussy, and your glazed-eyed, panting expression of want. “Do you want me to bite you? Leave handprints? Wrap my fingers around your neck, until that not even your highest collar can cover the marks…?”
He sounded willing, and eager, to do all of this stuff your command, but there was only one thing you wanted:
“Fuck me.”
You wish it didn’t sound so needy, but his hands stopped stroking your thighs as both the masked and unmasked eyes snapped back onto your face as you pleaded.
“Fuck. Me. Fill it up as much as it can take, and more some. I don’t care if this is our one and only time together, leave me filled and satisfied-”
“One and only?” He growled, at the same time fingers hooked over your panties and all but tore them down. You shivered as your wet-mound was exposed to the air, but lifted your legs obediently as he tore them down your body, tossing them and the connected garter-straps carelessly to the floor. “After that look on your face? After those sounds you’re making, all for me?”
You groaned as one hand moved and slid fingers through your folds to tend to your throbbing sex, while the other fumbled at a belt and pants buckles. “Based on how you’re moaning and whining for it, I may just need to make this a required-stop when I travel up here…” It’s halfway to a snarl, but only of frustration, as he’s furiously shoving his pants down in a single, final shove. You have no time to savor the sight of his hard cock before he’s spitting into his palm, smearing the saliva between his fingers before reaching down to stroke himself to complete fullness. Just as his other thumb finds your clit, and begins rubbing circles to coax more moaning pleads from your mouth as you buck into his hand.
“You dirty thing… amongst the shining and the gleaming of Piltover, I never thought one so filthy as you could even exist here,” You whimper under his words and ministrations, bucking up your hips as he grounded the pad of his thumb around the swollen nub between your legs. “You don’t even know my name, don’t know where I come from or what I do… and just look at you…”
The man’s voice was strained from his own preparations on his cock, and perhaps from the sight of your writhing form, before he moved his palm off his shaft with a groan, reaching to grasp under and around your thigh. With a few movements, he had your legs braced apart as he guided his length through your dripping folds, a pleased hiss between tight teeth as the head of his cock nudged against your convulsing hole. “Coming apart at a strangers touch. Begging for a strangers cock, for a stranger to fuck you senseless…”
As your gaze looked up to him, chest heaving with your pants, you caught the glint of a canine catch on his bottom lip as he smirked, and purred out, “I… very much doubt we’ll be strangers much by the time we’re done, lovely.”
The half-masked stranger slid in slow with a completely lewd sound, and soon the sound of wet, thrusting flesh filled the air as you wordlessly urged him on. Never once did you say a name, nor did he offer his, but his arm came around to brace you when your hands snapped up to cling to his shoulders. Growls, vulgar swears and hints of praise breathed against your ear, tipping into a higher-pitch when he paused to adjust himself within you, and your ankles raised to cross and lock at the small of his back.
There was an exposed bit of his collarbone from his slightly unbuttoned shirt, that your teeth immediately latched onto right as you came. Biting down at the same time you clenched around his pounding-cock with a choked, wordless groan. His nails left equally sharp marks into your back and hip as his thrusts became erratic into your tight, pulsating heat.
“Think I’d want this only once?” He groaned through tight teeth. “Don’t want you running off for another stranger. Might just have to come back, again and again… only me inside. Pretty cunt like yours, full of me… making sure everyone knows, even when you yourself doesn’t even know who is in you-”
The idea nearly made you slam into orgasm a second time, but the tightness around him sent him straight to his first. Slamming his hips flush to yours, you whimpered into his skin as you felt his hot release spill deep, and you clung tighter as he sagged slightly after the moment passed, and he finally drew in a long, shaky breath as his forehead slumped slightly against yours.
Wordlessly, you slipped an arm around to his back, drawing small circles and mindless designs as you finally got enough concentration back to go over his words.
Magnetic.
The pull remained, even with your bodies literally connected as cooling drips leaked out of you; the pull of you to him. You to him. In the few dalliances or sexual rendezvous you were able to sneak away - only a handful, but nearly all in the past had accepted the short-lived union for what it was, a quick escape and a temporary round of fun.
All others had understood these single-nights together as simply the subconscious need for release, for a break from decorum and grace in the eyes of Piltover’s most 'upstanding and finest.’
This was the first stranger you knew you would have a hand time letting go.
You didn’t need a face, nor a name or some sort of impressive job-title that would approve to your family - you wanted him. Wholly, and as much as he was willing to offer.
And based on your masked-gentleman’s early words, it seemed he had much, much more to offer.
And so, hopeful, you extended the invitation.
“If this is what I get from our first meeting…” You murmured as your lips dragged up his skin, and pressing your cheek to the hard, decorated surface of his mask. Hand coming up to coax through sweaty hair, you breathed past the cover to murmur close to his ear. “… i’m dying to know what I’ll find out what we get to our second.”
His breath catched, there was only a gentle, rhythmic feel of his chest rising and falling with yours in response. For a moment, you worried that you had scared him off, being nearly explicit in your desire to do this again in the future. And something inside you twisted at the idea of him pulling away, leaving you empty while escaping and never being seen again-
A small roll of his hips leaves you choking out a gasp, a wet squelching sound as he slowly pushed back into your used-cunt again. Clearly, looking to make good on earlier promises of leaving you good & filled entirely.
A rough chuckle sounded as you buried your face into his shoulder.
“Who knows, my lovely?” He mused, gritting his teeth with a dark, pleased look as he slowly began to work your body, and your moaning back up to cries that echoed around the Piltover study. The black, red-irises eye seemed to glow behind the mask.
“You might just earn yourself a name, next time we meet.”