His Terms

“I don’t know, honestly.”

He moved closer so a foot only separated them. She had looked away from him, and he took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Look at me.” When she was staring right at him he finished. “I would never harm you. The pain that I think you’re referring to, which you think you’re afraid of, is always in a controlled environment and only meant to heighten your pleasure.” He stroked her cheek with his finger and looked at her mouth. “And I’m not a sadist in the sexual sense, not really. I just want you, Sorcha, and went to great lengths to ensure that.” He leaned forward another inch until he could feel and smell the warm, sweet scent of her wine-laced breath along his mouth. “Anything I do to you will bring you just as much pleasure as it will bring me.” He used his hold on her to tilt her head to the side, baring her throat, and having her at his mercy with just this small hold. If she just tilted her head an inch their lips would be touching.

“Out of all the women that you could have, all of the models, actresses, heiresses, why would you want me?”

“I told you why, Sorcha.” He still stared at her mouth.

“I can’t believe that is the only reason. I can’t believe that me hating you makes you hard.” She was breathing heavier now.

“You don’t hate me, although you like to think you do, because you think that will excuse what you feel for me.” A beat of silence stretched between them. “There is something about you that draws me in.” He lifted his gaze from her plump red lips and looked into her eyes. “There is something that has this obsession inside of me, that makes me pissed at the way you speak to me, act around me, and has me want to tear off your clothes and fuck you.”

“You like the chase,” she said almost to herself.

“Maybe that’s it.” He slid his hand over her cheek and to the back of her head. “I’m not being cocky when I say I could have any woman I want with just a phone call.”

“Yes, you are.”

He smiled, a genuine one because she was calling him out. “But why would I want a woman that wouldn’t offer me a challenge?” She didn’t respond, but he hadn’t said that to hear her say something back at him. “You’re tough, and are the kind of woman that is set in her ways, stubborn, too.” He leaned in so their lips almost touched. “You’re like me, whether you like to admit it or not. Maybe it’s arrogant of me to think, but I want you fighting back, not putting up with my shit. Because in the end you’ll give it all to me anyway, and that will make your resistance falling all the sweeter. Now, Sorcha.”

He took his other hand and held her cheek, now cupping both sides of her face. He wanted her looking right in his eyes when he said the next part, because then she’d know pleasantries were done.

“I want you naked, on your knees, and sucking my cock.” He took a step back, reached out to take hold of the towel that shielded her, and pulled it away.

There she stood, naked and pissed at him. That had him smiling, especially when the blush started to cover her entire body, and her small hands were in tight fists at her sides. She didn’t bother hiding herself from his view, and he knew this sexual experience had with her would be one that rivaled anything he’d had with any other woman.

15

The arousal that Sorcha had felt when he had been touching her slowly took a backseat to her anger. He had demanded she be on her knees sucking his dick, like there was nothing else he would rather see her do.

You fool. There is nothing else he wants from you. Be prepared to be this man’s sexual plaything for the next seven days. That is what you signed up for, even if it is still new and hard to grasp.

But despite her anger and self-preservation, Sorcha was still wet, embarrassingly so. Clenching her thighs in hopes he didn’t see her arousal sliding down her inner legs, she knew by his smirk and the way he glanced down at her pussy that he knew she was worked up for him. He moved over to the edge of the bed, but didn’t sit down right away. Instead he undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down.

He removed his shirt and tossed it aside, and for a few seconds all she could do was stare at him. He was golden in color, and so damn defined that she felt like the Marshmallow Man compared to him, all squishy and soft.