FERRO CURLED HIS hands into fists to disguise the trembling in his fingers. His desire for Julia was raging out of control, far surpassing anything he’d ever felt before.
He’d confessed all to her. The unvarnished truth of his life. Still she said yes. Still she wanted him.
He found that the wanting was important. He knew that he wanted her, craved her like he couldn’t remember craving anything in life beyond the essentials. Food, water, heat. And now Julia.
“Tell me,” he said, the words rough, “that you want me.”
She looked away, her cheeks turning pink. “I told you already,” she said.
“You’re already failing your directive. I asked you to do what I said. Tell me you want me.”
She met his gaze. “I want you.”
Touching her would be like touching fire. Just the thought made him warm.
He closed the distance between them and pulled her to him, his lips hovering over hers. “I will kiss you now,” he said. “And this is not about restraint. Or seduction. Or control. This is for me. This is not for you, or for anyone else. It’s not for any other reason than that you are a woman, and I am a man, and I want you like I have never wanted anyone or anything in my entire life.”
The admission was shaky, frayed, and he didn’t care. His control could burn in hell. And he would follow. Surely for this, he would follow.
He looked at her mouth, pink and lush, soft. Feminine perfection. He had stopped looking at the women he’d been with at a certain point. Had stopped truly looking at them. He saw past them whenever he could.
But he didn’t want to see past Julia. If he was going to do this, he would embrace it utterly, as utterly as he’d embraced his control. He would let go of it with just as much purpose.
He leaned in, tracing the line of those gorgeous, rose-colored lips with his tongue. Tasting her, savoring her. She shivered beneath his touch, her bottom lip trembling, the artless show of arousal pushing his up higher.
How long had it been since he’d wanted without shame? So long.
He didn’t have to hide behind a fantasy to maintain his arousal. Didn’t have to pretend he was in control, with a woman he wanted, somewhere he wanted to be.
He was the richest man in the world. He was just where he wanted to be, with the woman he wanted. He would savor each taste of her, every glimpse of her skin. The feel of her softness beneath his hands.
He deepened the kiss, delving into the recesses of her mouth, drowning in her. And she returned it. Enthusiastically. Passionately.
He had a hundred fantasies. Locked away inside himself, his defense against the invasion of his body. The invasion of his soul.
They hadn’t protected him completely, but they had given him a place to go.
The only question was, which one would he live out tonight, with her.
He bit her lip, testing her. Seeing what she would call a stop to. What she would enjoy. The slight bite only earned him a whimper, one of desire, not pain.
“You like that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good.” He stepped away from her, took one last look at her in the dress. “Take that off. Slowly.”
Her cheeks darkened, but she obeyed, reaching around behind herself. Her dress loosened, the top falling to her waist. She was wearing a black bra, plain and sexy, her breasts spilling over the low cups, so pale against the dark fabric.
“All the way,” he said.
She tugged at the fabric around her hips and the dress fell away, a dark, shimmering pool at her feet. Then she stepped out of it, leaving her in nothing more than the bra, a very small pair of matching panties and her spiky shoes.
They made her legs look endless. He wanted them wrapped around his back. Yes, that would have to happen. A definite fantasy.
She didn’t make a move to him. She just stood there, her body on display for him, awaiting her next order.
He moved to her, put his hand on her cheek. “You are so much better than beautiful.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“You are beautiful, but there is something in you. Something that shines from inside. That is what makes me want to lose control with you. Because I want to touch the light. I want to feel warm. You will make me feel warm.”
Then she was pulling him to her, kissing him. There was something unrestrained in her, something totally different than anything in his past experience. She was hungry for him, but it wasn’t in the same way other women had been with him.
She was just so very soft. Sweet, if anything so torturously sensual could be called that.
He sucked her tongue deep into his mouth, and she moaned, her fingers digging in to his shoulders.
He reached around and undid the catch on her bra, then slid his hands down her back, beneath the waistband of her underwear, cupping her bare butt. He squeezed her gently, enjoying her body, not simply giving it enjoyment.
Always for him, sex had been clinical. The go-to images in his mind keeping his body on track. But not now. Now, there was nothing that could have doused his arousal, no way to stop it from consuming him, leading him deeper and deeper down a dark path that he had to see through to the end. Even though he couldn’t see in front of him. Even though he knew nothing good waited. Not past the oblivion that would come with release.
None of it mattered. All that mattered was her. Was this. Was getting what he wanted.
He pulled away from her and tugged at the front of her bra, drawing it down beneath her breasts, exposing her to him. She was so perfect. Pink and perfect. He lowered his head and slid his tongue over one nipple, felt it harden. Then he sucked her deep into his mouth, savoring her, the flavor, the way she arched into him, the way she grabbed his hair and held him to her body as though she couldn’t bear to be separated from him.
All things that had disgusted him when it had been with a woman he didn’t want. A woman he was, in some ways, forced to be with. With Julia, they made him burn. He craved more.
It was like a beast had been unleashed inside him, and after more than ten years of celibacy, more than ten years of starving himself, he was very, very hungry. He sucked her in deeper, before releasing it and turning his attention to the other breast, giving her the same attention there.
But it wasn’t enough. He rose, claimed her lips again, then he picked her up and held her close to his chest. She squeaked and held on to him tight, but didn’t break the kiss. Her nails dug into his neck, a delicious bite of pain to go with the almost unendurable pleasure.
So delicious it ramped up his appetite all the more.
He deposited her on the bed and stood at the foot of it. “Lie down.” She obeyed, sliding her bra off the rest of the way and holding still. “Part your thighs for me.”
Again she obeyed. He knelt on the edge of the bed and let his fingers drift over her panties, rubbing her through the fabric.
Julia felt as if her heart was going to implode, it was beating so hard. And the pleasure, the absolute, raw unsatisfied, pleasure that was building in her was threatening to undo her completely.
She shouldn’t respond to his orders like she was. She shouldn’t want more of them. She should be completely put off dominant men. But she wasn’t. And she did respond. Because she’d chosen him, chosen this. And she didn’t have to worry about being awkward or wrong. He was telling her what to do. Exactly. His instructions explicit and exquisite. And she was happy to oblige.
She spent so much time giving orders. Having people defer to her, treat her gently. Well, Ferro was giving orders. And he wasn’t gentle.
And she liked it. Oh, yes, she liked it.
His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear and found where she was wet and very, very ready for him. It was almost embarrassing, displaying just how much she wanted him. But then she looked at him, at the shocking and graphic outline of his erection against the front of his slacks, and she didn’t feel so embarrassed anymore.
Because he wanted her, too. Because he wanted her as a lover when he’d wanted no other woman. Not for her money, not for her status. Not because her mom had paid him to be her date and felt like she owed him.
He’d called her more than beautiful, so it wasn’t even just for her body.
Tears, stupid, stupid tears, stung her eyes and she blinked them back, focused instead on the feelings that were rioting through her body as he teased and tested her, each pass of his fingers becoming more and more intimate until he pushed one deep inside her body.
A sharp cry escaped her lips and her internal muscles pulsed around him. Nothing had ever felt so good. Who would have thought she could find something like this with a man she didn’t even like.
That assessment didn’t sit well with her anymore, though.
She thought back to their first kiss.
Make it my punishment.
“Is this my punishment?” she panted as she dragged her underwear down her legs and tossed them onto the floor.
He pressed a kiss to her stomach, just below her belly button. “I think it’s mine,” he said. “Because I’m sure I won’t survive it.”
He kissed her lower, then lower still, forcing her legs open with his shoulders. He curled his hands around her thighs and tugged her hard against him as he tasted her intimately, his lips and tongue teasing, torturing.
“Oh.” She put her arm over her eyes, unable to think, unable to breathe. He felt so perfect. So unbelievably decadent. She moved her arm, looked down at him, at his dark head right there. “I thought…I thought I was supposed to pleasure you.”
He lifted his gaze, met her eyes. “This pleasures me.” He slid his tongue across her flesh, his focus still on her. “More than you can know. Because I want you. Because I chose you.” He lowered his eyes and shifted, releasing his hold on one leg and sliding a finger inside her again, working in time with his mouth, pushing her higher, faster.
She was breathless, her chest seized up, the tension, low in her belly, tightening to a point beyond pleasure, beyond pain. It was unendurable. Unsurvivable.
And just when she was sure she would break, he moved his tongue over her one last time and it all broke into pieces. Pleasure, white hot waves of it, rolled through her, her body completely destroying everything in its path. Leaving it changed. Devastated.
Perfect.
And she wanted to cry. Because this was what sex was about. Not rough violence. Not hard hands between her legs, trying to force their way inside her body. Not insults or force.
She pushed her memories aside. They had no place here. This was different. This was what sex, foreplay, was supposed to be. They weren’t even on the same planet as what had happened to her back in high school. So she wouldn’t think of it again. Not here. Not now.
He moved away from her then, his eyes dark with desire. “Now—” he wrapped his hand around his shaft “—now my turn, I think.”
She bit her lip and nodded. She wanted him. Wanted this. Ferro was a lover doubtlessly unmatched. She was learning from the best. But right now she couldn’t think of it that way. She couldn’t even think. She could only want.
“Condoms?” she asked, feeling panicked suddenly. “Please tell me…”
“The hotel has provided some. I saw them in the bedside drawer.”
He went to the opposite side of the bed to the one she’d been sleeping on and pulled a drawer open, producing a box of protection and setting it on the nightstand.
He opened it and produced a packet, handing it to her. “Put it on me,” he said, his voice rough.
And she couldn’t deny him. Because it was an order. Because she could tell that beneath every order was a desperation that she didn’t entirely understand, but that she couldn’t ignore.
She opened the packet, hoping he didn’t notice her shaking hands, and, after examining it to make sure she was holding it the right way, she positioned the condom over his length and rolled it onto him. He was so hot and hard beneath her hand. Different than she’d imagined a man would feel. Better.
And she wanted all of him. Wanted him inside her.
“What else would you like?” she asked, meeting his gaze, loving the darkness in his eyes, the heat.
“I want you on your back. And I want you to wrap your legs around my back.”
She complied, her heart pounding furiously. He positioned himself, the head of him testing the entrance to her body. He pushed forward, starting to stretch her. It hurt a bit, no dramatic tearing, but not painless.
Her breath was sucked from her lungs when he thrust into her fully, buried to the hilt, so deep in her, his chest pressed against hers. It hurt. But that wasn’t the dominant feeling. It was the intense connection. The feeling of being completely joined to someone else, almost like she was a part of him.
“Julia…”
“I’m fine,” she said, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek. “I’m fine. Please. Just…please.”
He reached beneath her and cupped her butt, drawing her in tighter. And she did as she was told, wrapped her legs around him as he started to move in her. Each thrust brought his body into contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Each thrust drove her higher, closer to another release.
It should be impossible after such an explosive orgasm, but he was taking her there. Too fast. Too intense.
She bit her lip, trying to hold back the groan of pleasure climbing her throat, trying to stop the rising tide of release that was threatening to wash her away completely.
But there was no holding either one back.
She held on to him as the storm took hold, and as she shuddered out her last gasp of pleasure, Ferro stiffened above her, his muscles shaking as his own release pounded through him, as he spent himself completely.
She clung to him, held his head to her chest, their breaths harsh, her heart beating hard. She could feel his against her body, in rhythm with hers.
He rolled away from her and sat up, the muscles in his back shifting with the movement. He put his head down, his face in his hands for a moment before he threw the blankets aside and stood quickly.
He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Julia sat up, drew her knees to her chest and waited. He didn’t reappear. After a while she picked her phone up and started playing a game, trying to ignore the pressure that was building in her chest. She heard the shower turn on and blinked rapidly. She shouldn’t be crying. She shouldn’t even be tempted to cry. This was a learning experience. She and Ferro were lovers. Nothing more. If he wanted to roll out of bed without saying a word and take a shower by himself, then he was welcome to. Fine and fine.
She shivered and set her phone down, then got out of bed and went to her suitcase. She’d tossed her sweats onto the top of it when she’d gotten up that morning. A morning that seemed like it had happened days and days ago. Or in an alternate universe.
She’d crossed over the veil, into some strange place where hot men like Ferro noticed her, wanted her, took her. She jerked her T-shirt on, then started working on her pants. Oh, yes, then after that they left her cold and alone in bed.
If it was an alternate universe, it had some striking similarities to the usual one. And she wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Because yeah, the hot dude had wanted her. But only for a little bit.
She climbed back into the bed. It smelled like him. Like sweat. Like sex. She wished he would just come back and put his arms around her for a moment, because after being so close to him, after having him in her like that, she felt more alone without him than she ever had.
Why did she feel like this? Why was it…why was it making her shake and get teary eyed? Why did she want to eat a pint of ice cream and hide?
For a blinding moment, during the sex, she’d thought she finally understood it. How beautiful it was. Pleasure, the wanting, the being wanted. That she’d finally cut the link between her assault and sexual desire. Really, and not just in theory.
Well, that was true, but she’d found a whole new level of complexity in this sort of thing she hadn’t anticipated at all.
But she held her tears back, and she sat and stared at her phone screen, mindlessly flicking letters into slots. None of them were words, and therefore, pointless. She was starting to wonder if the little experience with Ferro had been the same.
Except she felt changed. Burned from the inside out. Damn Ferro.
The bathroom door opened and she tried to keep herself from getting whiplash, looking to see what he was going to do. What the expression on his face was.
She managed to look up from her phone slowly. He wasn’t looking at her at all.
He had a towel slung low around his hips, and he stalked across the room to the closet, where he had hung all his clothes. He was meticulous, much more so than her. Everything he did was purposeful. Controlled.
Except for what he’d done tonight.
He dropped the towel and her heart climbed into her throat, perched there, blocking her air, pounding so hard she felt dizzy. She’d never seen a butt like that. Well, outside of pictures she’d never seen a man’s butt uncovered. Even so, she knew he was a rare specimen of extreme hotness. And even though she was irritated and hurt, she couldn’t help but look.
He tugged a pair of athletic pants out of the closet and jerked them on, covering the object of her fascination. Then he turned and started to walk toward the couch.
He still didn’t look at her, didn’t say anything.
He lifted up the blankets and lay down, turning over, facing away from her.
Her mouth fell open. Was he really going to just go to sleep across the room from her as if nothing had happened between them?
She stared at his immobile form. Well. Damn. He was.
She started to say something. Then she closed her mouth. If she said something he would know that she was melting inside. And she couldn’t take that humiliation, not again. She’d been so blithe about a guy using her for her body.
But she hadn’t known what it would really feel like. That she would feel so used.
She hadn’t known anything.
She’d been so stupid. To think that because she’d wanted the sex she’d have no emotional repercussion from it. To think that because Ferro was her business rival it wouldn’t change her feelings. To think that she wouldn’t feel rejected and hurt if he didn’t want to sleep next to her.
She forced herself to lie down. Forced herself to keep quiet. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t force herself to fall asleep.