“Ahh, so Dane tells me often.” She didn’t sound in the least apologetic. “Please give Courtney my love. Care for her, Ian. A young woman’s adventures should always be made with one understanding of her tender heart. This I trust you in.”
She disconnected, leaving Ian drifting in a sea of desire so intense it cut into his loins, and a confusion so thick it threatened to smother him. It bothered him that Marguerita had known his lust for Courtney during those first years. Seventeen, prone to hug and touch and rub against him like a little cat. He had f**ked her maid raw the week he had stayed there. Several years later, it had been worse. He could still remember awakening, reaching for her, locked in dreams so erotic they were torture.
Snarling silently, he punched in another number, waiting impatiently for the phone to connect.
“Khalid.” The bastard answered the phone on the fifth ring, his voice lazy, filled with sensuality.
“Bring her home. Now.” If he had to go looking for her, he might well get them all arrested.
“I see.” Khalid’s voice was a low, deep growl. “I will take care of this.”
Ian disconnected before moving to the living room to wait. Leaning back on the couch, he loosened his pants, pulling his engorged c**k free and grimacing as his fingers tightened on the torturously hard flesh.
He stared down at the ruddy flesh, the thick, violently colored crest as it swelled and pulsed within his grip. He was a large man, and he well knew it. Courtney was small, the shape of her legs, the curve of her rear, the contours of her shapely little cunt beneath her clothing assured him that her sweet little tunnel would be tight, snug.
He groaned at the thought of it, stroking his desperate flesh as his eyes closed in such need it was nearly pain. He would show her tonight the needs that tormented him. He wouldn’t begin easy. He wouldn’t allow her to dismiss the knowledge she already had.
There was something about watching a woman, holding her as another touched her, watching the agonized pleasure that transformed her features, that he could never explain to himself. Their screams of need, eyes wild, body glistening with perspiration as they fought to understand the different sensations two men could bring them. Or watching another touch her as he f**ked her. Able to lose himself in the feel of a tight pu**y or ass and knowing that the other male would pleasure her as she needed to reach the highest peaks of ecstasy.
Driving her crazy.
His fingers stroked over his cock, imagining her lips surrounding him, sucking him deep as she tried to scream around the thick stalk because even as she pleasured, she was being pleasured.
He was different. All the members of the Club were different. It was a difference Ian had fought for years, one he had agonized over and finally accepted. Either something was missing within him, or something was much too strong. Because the thought of holding her to him, his c**k buried deep inside her as Khalid touched her, tweaked her hard ni**les or filled her as well, had pre-come spilling from his dick and lubricating his fingers as his thighs tightened, his h*ps arching to his hand.
Her mouth. He wanted her mouth wrapped around the head of his erection, sucking it hot and deep as her slender fingers stroked the shaft. He would bury his hands in her hair, feel her screams vibrating on his c**k as Khalid prepared her for further play.
He clenched his teeth, tightening his fingers on the bulging head as he imagined holding her open, fitting himself between the soft folds of flesh between her thighs and filling her. Slow. He would push in so slow, holding her still as she fought to accept him, the satin tissue of her pu**y gripping him, straining to stretch around his width.
He would take her first. He would fill her, f**k her until she screamed in cl**ax and begged for mercy before he would allow another to have her. First, she would belong to him. He would mark every sweet inch of her body with his touch and make certain she always remembered who she belonged to. Make certain it was imprinted into her very soul, that she was his first.
His.
He erupted. A hoarse groan filled the room as his release jetted from his cock, shuddered through his body and left him gasping for breath at the very thought of her accepting him, screaming his name. Silky streams of se**n filled his hand, splattered onto his shirt but did nothing to lessen his hunger. Only Courtney could ease that pain, and tonight, she would sate it, or he would end up f**king her to death in the attempt.
Chapter Four
Courtney knew when Khalid hung up the phone in the middle of dinner that it had been Ian on the other end. Khalid didn’t inform her of that fact, he did no more than resume eating his meal, as charming and wicked as ever. Regaling her of the years he spent in his father’s land, and many of the adventures he found there. As well as the harem his father had gifted him.
He was an interesting companion and reminded her much of Sebastian. Courtney imagined Khalid and Sebastian would be the best of friends should they ever meet.
“Are you finished?” he asked as she pushed her plate away, having barely touched the excellently prepared salmon she had ordered. It wasn’t food she was hungry for.
“I believe I am,” she sighed as she finished the wine and watched him curiously. “That was Ian on the phone, was it not?”
His lips quirked as his black eyes met hers ruefully.
“He sounds a bit more intense than I’ve ever known him to be. He of course demanded your return. Now, I believe he said.”
The self-satisfied smile that curved his lips assured her that he was enjoying the thought of defying his friend.
Forcibly, she restrained a cry of glee. So perhaps it wasn’t so mature, but the excitement radiating through her now was tremendous.
Khalid leaned back in his seat, lifting his wineglass to sip at it casually as he watched her.
“You aren’t demanding that we return,” he stated the obvious.
“Not because it isn’t what I prefer,” she assured him with a wide smile. “I’d run straight to his arms if I thought it would accomplish my goal.”
“And your goal is?” His brows lifted in inquiry.
She tilted her head, dropping the amusement she had adopted for the evening and allowing the determination she could feel in her soul to reflect on her face. She could feel it building in her day by day, the assurance that she was indeed right. That she had chosen wisely, and that the battle she had set for herself would end in success.
“I want his heart,” she finally said softly. “As you said earlier, I love him.”