“Take the gown off. I won’t tell you again, Ella.” Her insides trembled at the dark brew of anger and desire that throbbed in his voice.
She did as he said, suddenly too nervous not to. She watched him helplessly as the silk gown slithered to the floor, leaving her bare before his eyes. What did he see, she wondered? She was older; her body wasn’t as toned, as pretty as it had been ten years before. She knew all her problem areas, had stared at them in the mirror more times than she could count.
He pulled the blankets back then and patted the bed beside him. Watching him warily, she got into bed, lying on her back as he stopped her from turning on her side. His big hand moved to her stomach, caressing the flesh there as her breath caught in her throat.
“I won’t be regulated to the bedroom, hidden, a secret you keep from everyone,” he warned her coldly as he stared down at her. “Do you understand me, Ella?”
“What do you want from me?” She shook her head, her brain clouded with the alcohol, her emotions sensitized from her friend’s warnings, and James’ demands. “Why are you even here, James? In my bed. My life,” she sighed wearily.
“You have to figure that one out on your own,” he growled, his hand moving until he could brush back the lingering strands of hair that clung to her cheek, her neck. “You should have already figured it out, Ella, but you refuse to look beyond your own fears. I won’t allow that to continue.”
His eyes softened only marginally as she stared up at him. In the soft light of the lamp, his features were shadowed, savage yet softening with tenderness. She lifted her hand until she could touch the roughness of his beard-shadowed jaw, loving the warmth and roughness of his flesh.
“I dreamed of you,” she whispered bleakly. “For so many years, I dreamed of you, James. You’ll break my heart if I let you. I can’t let you.”
His gaze became shuttered. “Go to sleep, Ella. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He moved then, turning out the light before lying down beside her, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close. Ella stared up at the dark ceiling, feeling the warmth and vitality of his body as he held her. Feeling the hard length of his c**k against her thigh.
She breathed out regretfully. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone, James.”
“Go to sleep, Ella,” he warned, his voice soft yet commanding. “You don’t want to push me much further tonight.”
“But I will, James.” She shook her head, the wistful sadness inside her heart too much to bear. “I was used to being alone.”
Silence met her words. He wasn’t asleep; his body was too tight, too tense for her to believe that. His anger thickened the air in the room, though, and she realized she didn’t really want him angry. Keeping him angry was to keep him at arm’s length, a safe distance from making her body torment her with its needs. But he was close now, he had already taken her, more than once, and the little aches in her body proved that.
“I used to fantasize about you.” She frowned as she thought of the years that had passed. “How silly is that, James? That’s when what little satisfaction I had found with Jase in all those years was gone. The moment you stepped into that room destroyed it all.”
His c**k jerked against her thigh.
“I warned you, Ella. I won’t warn you again.” She shivered at the dominating tone of his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, seeing only the shadowed impression of his form beside her. Her eyes lowered as she wondered what it would be like to see him out of control. All that cool purpose burned away. Could she do it? Could she make James Wyman, master of women, lose control? Her pu**y gushed with the thought. She had heard rumors for years. Women talked, and unfortunately she heard the tales. And they talked about James and his cool control, his sexual deliberation. None had broken that calm. None had made him lose control.
She rolled on her side slowly, shivering as she felt him adjust his erection to her new position. His body tightened further.
“Maybe having a boy toy would be nice.” She smoothed her hand up his chest, her nails glancing his hard male nipple as she scratched lightly over it.
He caught her hand, holding it still against his chest as he stared at her through the darkness.
“Do you think I’d make a good toy, Ella?” he asked her, his voice silky, dangerous. “It could blow up in your hands, sweetheart. You don’t want to continue on the course.”
She was just tipsy enough to smile. To lean forward and swirl her tongue over the sensitive nub of his nipple. She heard his breath catch, felt his body tighten further.
“Isn’t that the point?” she asked him as she moved lower, her tongue stroking down his hard abdomen as the muscles there clenched tightly.
His hands threaded through her hair, clenching on the strands as she nipped at his flesh, trying to halt her movements. Ella couldn’t halt her gasp. The prickling heat in her scalp was more exciting then she wanted to admit.
“Ella.” He spoke her name sharply, a demand, a command to stop, warning her in the sheer dangerous throb that lingered in the tone.
“What, James?” she asked him softly. Her head held still just below his heart, but her hands were free. She raked her nails up his thighs, loving the sound of his breath catching in his throat.
“You don’t want me to lose control, Ella,” he warned her softly.
“Of course I don’t,” she whispered, her teeth nipping at his skin as her nails ran alongside his bulging cock.
It was exhilarating, exciting. He was breathing harder now, his heart racing beneath her ear. She tugged at the grip on her hair, whimpering with the stimulation, that sharp flare of pleasure that raced through her body. Her head lowered until her tongue was able to reach the flared, hot crown of his cock. He jerked as she licked it.
The grip he had on her hair was fierce, the burning along her scalp intense, but it only fired her body as a distant amazement pierced her brain. The pain was a fiery cascade of sensations that nearly broke her. She was out of control. She, who had kept her control wrapped about her like a mantle of protection, had fallen as easily to this man as a virgin with no knowledge of the heartache awaiting her.
She pulled further against his grip, crying out as she felt her cunt clench at the ache. Her lips capped the turgid head of his erection, slurping noisily as her tongue licked, stroked. She wanted him deep within her mouth, wanted to feel him f**king into it, unable to halt his own spiraling pleasure. To destroy his control as he had destroyed hers.