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Chapter Twelve
Ian stared at the back entrance to The Club, the double wood doors with their lantern lights at the side. The stately brick surrounding it gave the entrance an imposing, by-permission-only, air. And once again Courtney had broken that long-held tradition.
What was it with women lately? First Tally and Terrie had slipped through to allow Tally to seduce Lucian and Devril in a most erotic manner. Now Courtney was taking a page out of her book and revising it enough to tempt Ian’s very sanity.
What it did to him to see her there, as though she were some empress of the erotic arts, tempting him to destroy them both. And she was tempting him, in ways no other woman ever had.
He quickly controlled the slight smile that would have curved his lips at the thought. She was a wildcat. She took every caress, every touch and turned it back on him, accepting every adventure he introduced her to with a hunger that never failed to surprise him. She accepted him so easily, that the firm control he had held over his deeper hungers, was slowly slipping.
She made him smile. She made the haunting loneliness he had lived with so many years dissipate. She made him want to believe…and believing was the most destructive thing he could do. For both of them.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped from the back of the limo, staring at the doors to The Club with a sense of fatalism. She was there, in the very heart of all he was. The rumormongers had nicknamed them Trojans for their dominance and their habits of sharing their women. But it went so much deeper than that. It was a part of them, who they were, what they were, and the often overriding concerns that lifestyle brought. It wasn’t just any woman who could deal with the fact that her husband or lover needed to tie her up, use exotic toys on her, or allow other men to watch or touch what should be primarily his.
It went beyond possessiveness though. Not that Ian wouldn’t kill the man who dared to touch Courtney without his implicit permission. Club member or not, the results wouldn’t be pretty.
He shook his head. Realizing instantly that he was already accepting the fact that he couldn’t hold out against her much longer. There was nothing left but the prayer that some part of the past affection would survive this new relationship when she realized it wasn’t really what she wanted and that he had destroyed the innocence that was so much a part of her.
She wouldn’t be the first.
Kia Stanton’s sense of betrayal and fury wasn’t necessarily unfounded when her husband had surprised her with his desires. Carl should have revealed his sexual tastes to her before their marriage. It had destroyed a relationship that might have worked had he been honest in the beginning.
Courtney lacked the boundaries other women did. She amazed him on a daily basis, with her view of the world, her acceptance of things she had no experience with, not just sexually, but life in general. She never made judgments, and always tried to understand each side of the coin.
She could handle his hungers.
He grimaced at the part of his sexuality that insisted that she was strong enough, hungry enough, to accept his needs. That her sexuality, her sense of self would never be threatened by the desires that ate at him.
And another part of him saw nothing but Melissa, her eyes gazing sightlessly beyond him, that damning letter lying by her side. All he could feel then was the horror, the fury, the guilt… He should have known. He should have been more careful…
“Mr. Sinclair, the door was locked. ” The doors swung open to reveal Matthew’s dour countenance. “I locked it myself and checked it before I left. I have no idea who aided her in gaining entrance. ”
Khalid had. Ian wasn’t stupid. He knew the other man was chomping at the bit to test Courtney’s control.
“Don’t worry about it, Matthew, she would have found a way in no matter the measures taken against her. ” He slipped his coat off as Matthew closed the doors behind them, his gaze going instantly to the closed portals of the social room beyond.
Something surged in his bloodstream. A sense of expectation, an electrified arousal. The static charge had the hairs lifting along his nape as the ache in his cock intensified. His erection tightened, his body heated, and it took a long, indrawn breath to clear the haze of lust suddenly filling his head.
Spank me, Uncle Ian… Her voice teasing, her eyes holding a gleam of untamed laughter.
God yes! Make it hurt, just a little more, Ian. Just a little more… Her screams of unabashed pleasure and sexual pain echoed in his head as he watched the small, tight entrance of her ass bloom open for his thick cock.
I won… Her unsteady laughter as they collapsed on the bed night before, drowsy, replete, the sexual battle for control still considered a draw. Ian wasn’t satisfied with a draw.
Shaking his head, his jaw tightened as he forced himself to move to the doors. All he had to do was stalk to her and drag her out. No matter who stood around her… The doors opened. No matter what she was doing…
God have mercy on his soul…
Ian came to a resounding stop, shock gathering in the pit of his belly, his dick nearly pushing through his slacks as he felt his eyes widen, his lips parting in surprise.
It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t seeing it.
The outfit itself was control-destructive, but he could have withstood it. Ian was known for his control. And the wicked red short skirt and top, though incredibly tempting, could have been resistible.
But the rest…
He felt his mouth dry, then water, a haze of lust enveloping him, searing him as he watched Alyssa Hampstead behind her, her lips lowering to Courtney’s bare shoulder, her teeth raking the flesh as her hands slowly parted the buttons on the vest Courtney wore.
Dark brown eyes flared with a heat of their own as his gaze locked with his lover’s. Lust, impossibly hot, hungry, demanding, flashed in her eyes a second before the vest parted, revealing the swollen, hard-tipped mounds beneath.
