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She tightened her jaw, and narrowed her eyes at him. Ah, there was the little spitfire he grew hard over.
“I’ve read the tabloids, heard what those other women claimed you did to them.”
“Many of the things a certain ex-lover said were fabricated, if that is the instance you’re referring to. I don’t hurt women for the sake of getting my rocks off. I didn’t do anything that they were not consenting to, Sorcha.” His anger grew. “Don’t for one moment think that I would ever force myself upon a female, or make her do something she wasn’t comfortable with.” He watched her throat work as she swallowed, and he sensed a bit of her resistance leaving. “These women are angry for what I wouldn’t give them, and because of that they wanted to somehow tarnish my reputation.” He was still angry, and growing more so by the second as he thought of her thinking he would ever hurt a woman. His hands were now tight fists on top of the table.
“I don’t think you’d do anything to a woman that wasn’t willing, and I never implied that.” She was speaking softly, timidly almost, and Rian couldn’t help but get aroused over that as well.
Seeing this strong side of her, and then seconds later this very submissive side had these dual emotions inside of him rising. Yes, he liked to spank, and sometimes restrain and blindfold, but he didn’t consider himself a Dom, or that he lived the BDSM lifestyle. He liked what he liked, didn’t want to follow any rules aside from the women who were consenting, and if they had enough he stopped.
“I just don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to feel less than what I am worth.”
His heart started to beat fast and furiously at those words. Inside he could see a slightly broken female, one that tried so hard to be stronger than everyone else was around her. She was this brick of a woman, yet delicate and fragile like china. Rian found himself standing and moving toward her. He was hard and saw the way she glanced at the way he undoubtedly tented his pants. He stopped a foot from her, looked down, and saw the emotions on her face as if they were his own. Without thinking and just acting on instinct he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “I can promise you that you will never be made less than your worth, because in my eyes, and while with me, you are priceless.” Her breath caught, and he stared at her lips. Rian was not a man that handed out chocolates and flowers, or spoke sweet poetry. He said harsh things at times, called it like it was, and if someone fucked with him then he made sure they never did it again.
But then he had to just look at Sorcha’s face, hear those soft words from her that seemed almost frightened and sad, distant even, and this human part of him rose. It seemed almost cliché to think of himself that way—his almost human side coming up—but for longer than he could even remember he had lived on autopilot, and he never thought he’d feel any differently.
“What are you doing?” She tried to sound shocked, outraged even, that he was touching her. He could hear it in her voice. But the strongest emotions that made an appearance, the truest, were the arousal, curiosity, and need for more.
He didn’t answer right away, just held the side of her face, and looked at her mouth. She brought her tongue out, ran it along the swell of her bottom lip, and that was when he lost it. He knew he should have had her sign the contract first as he was lowering his head, but he was a slave to his desires, and he wanted Sorcha like he wanted to breathe. Rian kissed her softly at first letting her get used to the pressure of his lips on hers, of his hand tightening on her face.
He pulled her closer when she didn’t immediately push him away, and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. She panted against his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from running his tongue along her lips, coaxing her mouth open so he could delve inside. He moved his hand behind her head, gripped the loose strands of her hair, and loved when she involuntarily opened her mouth as she gasped.
As he seized the moment and pushed his tongue inside, this groan left him on its own, as if he had no control over himself or how he felt. But he knew that already, because it seemed when it came to Sorcha he had no self-control at all.
Taking her mouth harder, and more fiercely, he felt this dam open up inside of him, controlling his actions, and making it known that she was already his. She had her hands on his biceps, and although he had a dress shirt and suit jacket on he still felt the prick of her nails. It felt exquisite, and he groaned against her mouth in response. “It’s good, Sorcha.” He used his hand in her hair to tilt her head further to the side, delved his tongue deeper in her mouth, and took her like a man possessed.
