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“Keep your bed, Ian. ” She pretended to be unaware of the lust blazing from his eyes as she walked, nearly naked now, to the chest of drawers and pulled a short, midnight silk gown from the top drawer. “I am not a one-night stand, in any man’s bed. Especially yours. ” She pulled the gown over her head, shimmying out of her thong panties as the hem fell over her hips.
If she wasn’t mistaken, the temperature in the room shot up by several degrees. She could feel the heat moving in the air around her, caressing the sensitive nerve endings still rioting from Ian’s touch.
“You knew when you began this harebrained campaign what you were getting into, Courtney,” he snapped. “You know me, perhaps better than most…”
“Better than anyone,” she injected coolly, facing him squarely now. “Don’t fool yourself, Ian. I know you too well. And this is why you’re terrified of taking me into your bed. You know I’ll not be a one-night stand. Once you have me, you’ll only want more. ”
“You’re not exactly potato chips, Court,” he grunted, his lips tilting mockingly.
“For you, I’ll be a drug. ” She lowered her voice, struggling to control her breathing, the harsh beat of her heart. “One you’ll only become more addicted to each time you experience it. Because that’s what you are to me, Ian. A drug. Addictive. I can’t get you out of my mind, nor my heart…”
“It’s a crush, Courtney,” he whispered gently then, moving across the room slowly, his expression so tender it made her want to weep. “An immature obsession. ”
There it was. In the only way he could allow himself to feel anything for her. As though she were a child in need of a pat on the head.
“Oh, get over yourself, Ian. ” She tried to whirl away from him. She couldn’t allow him to touch her, not now, not while he was trying to convince himself she was still a child. “I’ve never had a crush on you…”
“You’ve always had a crush on me. ” The confidence in his voice raked over her patience. “When you were sixteen, you watched me as though I were a god. ”
“When I was sixteen, I would sneak into the closet of your bedroom and watch you and my bodyguard fuck my maid,” she informed him blithely. “I’ve done this for the past several years, Ian. I’m tired of watching. ”
He hid his shock well. He merely stared back at her, unblinking, his eyes nearly black as hunger flared within them.
“You watched?”
“Oh yes, indeed I did,” she assured him. “And each time I watched your cock pleasuring another woman I knew what I wanted. Who I wanted. I’m not a fool. And I’m not too homely to attract enough attention to keep my bed filled if this is what I want. I didn’t have to come to you. I could have stayed in England and fucked until hell froze over. But I came here, to you. ”
His jaw clenched.
“You’re a fool, Courtney. ”
“And I agree with you, wholeheartedly,” she bit out, moving across the room before turning back to face him. “I should just pack my bags and head home. I’m certain I could get fucked just easily there as I can in your bed. Hell, easier. And with just as little emotion. ”
He pushed his fingers roughly through his thick hair, glaring back at her.
“You’re pushing me, baby. So help me, you are. And God knows I don’t want to hurt you. ”
But he was excited. She could see it in his eyes, in the bulge of his pants. He was so excited by the thought of taking her, taming her, that he could barely control it.
She had lost control months, years before.
“Are you certain you don’t feel a need to hurt me, Ian?” she asked him then.
“I feel a need to spank your ass until it glows,” he finally growled, his hands fisting as he pushed them into the pockets of his slacks.
She let her eyelids lower, let her own hunger flow from her as the ass in question began to tingle.
“Spank me,” she whispered then. “I bet you’ve imagined it, Ian. Putting me over your knee, and spanking my bare ass as I beg you prettily not to. Shall I call you Uncle Ian as I do so? Have you ever imagined that? Please, Uncle Ian, don’t spank me. ”
She was tempting him, taunting him, and she knew it. She could possibly be pushing him past a boundary that she was perhaps not ready for quite yet. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
A firestorm erupted in his body, through his senses.
Please, Uncle Ian, don’t spank me.
The words should have disgusted him. But they turned him on, made his lust burn higher, hotter than ever before. He could feel his cock pressing against his slacks, fighting for freedom as his gaze locked on her all too innocent expression. Sweet, pure, her face, her eyes, reflected the wonder of a fucking teenager. But that was not the body of a teenager. The full, swollen breasts, their hard tips pressing against the dark blue silk, pleading for his touch. That was a woman’s body. A woman’s response.
A woman who liked to play very dangerous games.
