Author's note: Firstly, thank you very much to all the readers – your enthusiasm keeps me going! Just a quick note that this chapter may contain some mature content, so read at your own risk. Enjoy (:

Oscar silently congratulated herself on her success. She had trapped the man in the Black Mask. All she had to do now was engage in a corps-a-corps and bam! She would finally unmask him, reveal his identity and demand a rematch to restore her honor.

Simple. Easy.

Except that, no sooner had the door closed behind them, than his lips took possession of hers.

"Mmm," she moaned, half in protest, half in unexpected pleasure.

She placed her hands on his chest to push him off but her body seemed unwilling to exert pressure. His passion for her was so overpowering, that Oscar found herself plastered to a wall, completely succumbed to his embrace.

He pressed his body onto hers, his hand clasping hers and pinning it above her head. Her other hand gripped at the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. Andre was drunk with desire for this unknown woman. He wanted to possess her right then and there. He knew he was being less of a gentleman, and possibly more aggressive than he was allowed to be but that only seemed to excite her. She kept surrendering herself to him, allowing him to take hold of her completely. Her lips, at first reluctant, parted for him to make way for his tongue. She let out a loud moan as he tasted her tongue with his. A sweet shiver ran down his spine at this intimate delicious contact. Divine! She was absolutely divine. And yet, as much as he wanted this, he knew that it would be better enjoyed when savored. So, he decided to do exactly that.

He gently disengaged from her, taking a step back to admire her. She appeared confused by this sudden change of pace. She dropped her hand from his neck, releasing him. Their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity, each one staring intently into the other - a pair of emerald greens and sky-blue sapphires - as if the secret to life itself was to be found there.

"Wh-Who are you?" she whispered. Why did she have that nagging feeling that she knew him? Her hand instinctively reached for his face, gently caressing him. He didn't flinch or try to retreat from her. She could have reached an inch higher and ripped the mask off but instead, her fingers traced along his jaw, feeling the slight prickle of a stubble, and finally landing on his lips. He leaned his face into her palm, kissing her fingers, before taking it in his own hand. Their fingers intertwined; his grip was firm yet gentle.

Using his other hand, he lifted her chin with his thumb and index finger, and closed the distance between them with a sultry kiss.

"Tell me," he whispered, as his lips moved along her jaw, up her neck and towards her ear. Oscar trembled beneath him. "How far are you willing to go to find out?" he whispered in her ear.

"Unh," she moaned. His breath on her ear lobe made her lose control. Oscar Francois de Jarjayes, get a grip! She scolded herself. Ah, but how good it felt, how satisfying and delicious it all was! As she wrestled with herself over her own self-control, her companion traced humid lines along her neck, stopping to gently bite her here and there, eliciting scandalous sounds from her that she never even thought could ever come from her. Why had no one ever told her that this kind of pleasure existed? She never even knew that women could feel this kind of pleasure. Of course, she knew why no one ever bothered to tell her. Because she was never supposed to have been a woman. But she could never be a man either. A momentary wave of disappointment coursed through her: why did Andre never tell her? Did he enjoy moments like this with women or was he also left in the dark like her? She doubted it was the latter and the former seemed to bother her, so she dropped the idea altogether, deciding to focus on the present. On these tantalizing sensations. She wanted to free herself tonight, to explore and learn something new on her own that no one dictated to her.

Andre's senses were on fire, he wanted to taste every morsel of her skin, to touch her everywhere and to lead her into the thralls of ecstasy before he ventured there himself. He hadn't planned on that tonight. Tonight was supposed to be about him and about his own pleasure, but this was just too delectable to pass up. He wanted to hear her moan more, he wanted to make her wild with desire, to feel his power over this woman. As his lips were ardently exploring whatever exposed skin they could find, he was suddenly interrupted as she took him by the chin and pulled him up, locking him in another fiery kiss.

She disengaged from him and held his gaze. She could hear his quick shallow breath. He wanted more, she could tell. It was intoxicating to feel the power she had over him.

"I'm willing to go as far as it takes," she declared.

This was all Andre needed to hear.

The next few minutes felt like hours. The two were locked in a most heated embrace, culminating in sensual caresses, passionate wet kisses and sounds of pleasure and satisfaction as one touched the other or caressed the other in a place that set them ablaze.

Andre took to burying himself in her neck, while she rubbed her leg delectably on him. Her skin was so supple and warm, but it was her scent that he became inebriated with. She smelled like a wild rose on a dewy spring morning – a scent that reminded him of the woman he loved.

"By the way," Oscar breathed when they had a momentary break. With great difficulty, she sought to return to her mission before things truly got out of control.

"Hmm?"

His lips were upon her chest now. He had undone the first few laces of her dress and his tongue slid dangerously close towards her bosom.

"Ah!" she sighed. "You're uhh… missing a glove." She was beginning to gear up to her big reveal. Soon, she will have him.

But the man in the Black Mask only let out a sigh of satisfaction as his hand traveled up her waist and rested on her breast. Andre was enjoying himself too much to pay attention to what she was saying.

"Am I?" came his absent-minded reply.

She regretfully lowered his hand to discourage him from going any further.

"Is it part of your costume?" she persevered.

The young man suddenly stopped. He brought himself up to face her again. He seemed alarmed, but Oscar did her best to feign a casual innocent attitude.

Andre stared at her. Why was she interested in his costume all of a sudden? And particularly the glove? Could it be…? And yet, those eyes… They looked so much like Oscar's, that's what it was. No, it couldn't be. Oscar's eyes were always cold and distant but this woman… hers were alit with desire, with playfulness, with fire. Besides, it was impossible. Oscar would never wear a dress, let alone attend a ball in one. And anyway, she was probably with Fersen at the moment. Argh, Fersen.

"Yeah… you could say so," he replied with a grin. He did not allow her time to respond. He dived for her lips again and this time, he held both her arms above her head so that she wouldn't stop him again. Yes, tonight was about him and he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her.

Oscar, taken off guard by this gesture, attempted to free herself of him but the more she tried, the more she realized how sweet the struggle felt; she actually wanted him to possess her. She wanted him to dominate her and she wanted to surrender to him. His caresses intensified, his kisses becoming more urgent. She will enjoy it for now but when the time came, she knew she still had enough control to push him off and knock him unconscious if she needed to. Oh, it was a dangerous game she was playing, she knew that. But it only served to make her victory all the more sweeter.

As her head grew drunk with the anticipation of ecstasy, she wasn't fully conscious of the fact that his hand had found its way beneath her skirts and was now traveling up her thigh. All she could think about was how good it felt and how much she wanted, no needed, him to go further up and up and up…

"What the…" the dark-haired man abruptly stopped. His hand was feeling around for something.

Oscar's eyes widened with alarm.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Her dagger! She had strapped a dagger to her thigh before she left. Surely, that will arouse suspicion, for what kind of woman carries around a dagger?! And to a masked ball of all places!

She needed to get out of this situation and now.

"Nnh!" she squealed, realizing that her hair got caught on a hook screwed into the wall behind her. The panic began to overtake her. She was truly stuck now. She had to do something, to free herself. It was time to retreat.

A loud noise suddenly rang through the room, startling them both. Oscar concluded that it was the sound of a clock striking midnight.

And so, taking advantage of this momentary distraction, she extricated her hands from his grip and attempted to wiggle away.

"Stop it, you're stuck, hang in there a minute and just let me…" he started, seeing her distress.

"No!" she cried, aware that her wig was beginning to come off. Her hand flew to her head, clasping the wig down firmly in place.

"Don't be so stubborn, let me help…"

By some miracle and a remarkable use of force, Oscar finally managed to liberate herself. In the process, she had lurched forward violently, causing him to fall backwards and almost topple over his own cape.

By the time he had recovered himself, there was nothing left of the mysterious woman except her faltering shadow and what Andre thought, a glimpse of blond hair that trailed after her like a loose golden thread.

A shiny object on the floor caught his attention. He bent down to retrieve it and found that it was a silver dagger.

"WAIT!" he yelled, bursting out of the room, running along the corridor and back into the crowded hall. He pushed through the masses and scanned the room with all of his senses on high alert.

Alas, she was nowhere to be found.

Andre slammed his fist in ire on the wall, which made him realize that he had lost his other glove.

….

"Fersen!" A dishevelled Oscar materialized out of nowhere, interrupting the dance between a redheaded young woman and the disguised Swedish count.

"Cover me, quickly!" she ordered him, in a panic. But Fersen was already ahead of her. As soon as he spotted her running towards him, he had excused himself from his dance partner, took off his own cape and wrapped it around Oscar, making sure to pull the hood up to cover her hair. The wig had been almost ripped in half and her golden locks were starting to fall onto her face. Fersen had to admit, in this dishevelled state, Oscar appeared more beautiful than ever. God only knows how he longed to kiss her.

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Will it be Fersen or Andre for Oscar? ;) We'll find out in the next chapter, stay tuned :D