Behind the Mask | Emily Prentiss x Reader [18+]

The hum of the ballroom faded into a distant murmur as you stood at the bar, the air around you thick with the scent of wine, perfume, and something else—something you couldn't quite name but felt with every fiber of your being. The mysterious woman in red, with her sleek gown, feathered mask, and gray hair, was inches away, her dark eyes locked onto yours as if she were studying every detail she could find.

In one hand, she held her glass of red wine, the deep burgundy liquid catching the light from the chandeliers above. But it was her other hand that had your full attention. Her fingers, cool and deft, traced lazy patterns on the back of your hand resting on the bar. The touch was feather-light, a whisper of contact that sent shivers up your arm. Slowly, almost absently, she let her fingers glide up your forearm, drawing invisible lines, then back down again, her nails lightly grazing your skin. It was a subtle but deliberate gesture, intimate in a way that made your breath hitch.

You swallowed, your pulse racing under her touch. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a slow, knowing smile curled her lips. "You seem a bit nervous," she murmured, her voice a low, smoky purr that sent a rush of heat through you. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

You laughed softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "Not exactly. Just... intrigued."

Her smile widened, a flash of white teeth against her painted red lips. She took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving yours, as if she could see through the mask you wore, straight into the thoughts swirling in your mind. The way she looked at you felt like a challenge, as if she were daring you to play along.

"What's a beautiful, mysterious woman like you doing all alone at a masquerade?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. The question was playful, but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that made you think she was genuinely curious.

You arched an eyebrow, your lips curling into a small smile, Lexi's words in the back of your mind: you could be anyone tonight. You wanted to keep it all mysterious. "I could ask you the same thing," you replied, the words rolling off your tongue like a secret you were inviting her to uncover.

Her laughter was low and throaty, the sound vibrating through you like the strum of a bass note. "Touché," she replied, draining the last of her wine. She set the empty glass down on the bar with a soft clink, her fingers lingering over the stem as if reluctant to let go. "You know," she murmured, her voice low and sultry, "for someone who looked so innocent, you have a rather intriguing presence." Her fingers lightly grazed your wrist, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. "It's almost dangerous."

You shivered at her touch, feeling your resolve crumble bit by bit. You knew she was much older than you—there was a maturity in her eyes, a knowing gleam that spoke of experience far beyond your years. Yet she didn't seem to care about the age difference, and the way she looked at you, with an intensity that could set the room on fire, made it impossible for you to care either.

"I... I'm not sure what you mean," you managed to say, your voice faltering as her gaze locked onto yours.

She chuckled. "Oh, I think you do," she purred, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was almost tender, but there was a sharpness in her eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're just pretending not to."

Her fingers trailed down your neck, feather-light but deliberate, lingering at the base of your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding, how your skin seemed to burn under her touch.

"You're blushing," she observed, tilting her head to study you. Her lips curved into a smirk.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The truth was, you had never felt like this before—completely out of control, a mess of nerves and anticipation. You weren't used to someone like her—someone so sure of themselves, so unapologetically bold in their desires. It was intoxicating.