Our eyes met from across the revelling Mardi Gras crowd. His eyes, revealed from beneath the half mask of leather he wore, were bright blue, deep, and dark with intensity. The mask, itself was red, double horned, and molded into the most sinister expression. Below the mask, the lower half of his face showed thin wine stained lips set into a wicked grin, framed by a golden goatee. For just that brief moment, his lusty thoughts were visible and it was even more apparent that I was the target of his desire.

It was one of those nights, inhibitions were low, if, at all existing. I smiled back, flirting with my eyes through my own mask of gold filigreed leather with an exotic plume of peacock feathers. As he walked towards me, I turned and walked away. The crowd was loud and tightly packed, but I made my way, weaving and dodging, through the drunken festivities. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw that the crowd did not deter him as he followed me. In fact, they seemed to part just for him. It was a magnificent sight, godly or supernatural would be adequate words to describe the phenomenon. As his steady stride advanced, his long black cloak danced in the wind behind him.

Aroused and a bit frightened, my gold stiletto heels and body hugging dress did not allow for long stride, so I hastened my pace. The strands of beads I received earlier that night jangled with a playful melody around my neck. As I turned into a dark alley several blocks away from the drunken crowds and loud music, I wondered if I was insane. What made me leave the safety of the crowds while this unknown man pursued me?

The second I decided to turn and make my way back to the main street, a strong hand grabbed my upper arm and spun me around. There I was face to face with Him. My breath caught in my throat and my heart raced, threatening to burst from my chest, as the fire in his eyes consumed me.

He smiled at me, a brief victorious smile, before his lips met mine. His kiss was gentler than I expected, soft and coaxing, so I gave in. Parting my lips, I slid my tongue into his mouth. He was warm, welcoming, and tasted of fine wine. I drank with gluttony. As if spurred on from my own reaction, his kisses turned more possessive. I had little idea about the beast I just awoke. His hand made it way between my thighs and caressed the damp patch of lace that were my panties. His fingers, long and lean, entered me causing me to moan into his mouth as he started slowly and deliberately stroking me. I ground onto his hand, pushing his fingers deeper into my pink, making his fingers wetter.

He pulled away from my needy lips and grinned at me, “I knew I would find you, my Dark Princess.”

I didn't fully comprehend his words, or their meaning, I was too far gone in my wantonness.

I reached up to connect my lips with his again, instead he pushed me down onto a pile of black plastic garbage bags, and knelt before me. His full, dark cloak concealed us from anyone passing by the alley. The hem of my dress was pushed up to my waist as he held my legs apart. With one hand, he took hold of my flimsy, wet panties and ripped them off with one tug. I moaned from the hot friction of fabric against my skin, but mostly from my awareness of this powerful being lowering his mouth to my sensitive folds.

Again, I was surprised by the gentleness of his touch, as his tongue slowly licked my dripping nectar, taking his time, starting at the tender flesh of my tight puckered hole working his way up with wicked finesse to my glistening slit to my hooded bud. I reached my hand down to touch and encourage him on, but his vise-like grip took hold of my hand and held it to my side. I was helpless and at his mercy, but I didn't struggle, I didn't care.

When his tongue snaked its way inside me, and it took all my control not to release a flood of juice into his mouth. I squirmed against the sticky black garbage bags as they clung to my sweaty body. His tongue moved in precise strokes, teasing and provoking, wanting the release that I held back.

Was it even possible for a tongue to be that long, I thought as his tongue filled me deep. Then suddenly his serpentine tongue curled up, hitting that glorious spot. I couldn't hold back any longer. My thighs tightened around his face, my back arched, and the floodgates broke. My screams of passion mingled with the jazzy tones and raucous party-goers of the French Quarter. I could have sworn the amber lights that poorly lit the alley flickered in time with each crash of my tide.

As I laid spent on the pile of garbage bags, I reached out for Him, again. My fingertips barely touching the smooth leather of his custom mask before he pulled away, “Let me see your face.” I asked between heavy breaths.

“No.” he said firmly, standing upright.

I struggled to my feet on high heels and wobbly knees, “Why not?” I removed my own mask in a show of good faith, revealing my cocoa brown skinned features and kiss swollen lips.

“You know who I am.” he said, his blue eyes locked with mines.

“Who are you?” I asked confused.

“I’m your Dark Prince.” as he spoke, he twirled his dark cloak and vanished before my eyes.