“I take control,” he said broodingly. “Whatever I want to give you, Ella, however I want to give it.”
“My terms,” she bit out desperately, then watched in horror as he shook his head slowly.
“No, Ella. My terms as my woman. Your choice.”
Chapter Six
My terms as my woman. Your choice. The words resounded in her head that night and all the next day. James was the head corporate lawyer for Delacourte Electronics, and with the growth of Jase’s business, she knew he often put in long hours working, both in the office and at home, she guessed. That left the house silent and lonely that next day.
She wandered through the rooms, tired from the restlessness of her sleep the night before, and torn between her desires and his. She remembered clearly Jase’s demented sexual games. Not that any of them made sense to her at the time. What was the purpose in tying a woman down? Unless your fantasy was rape, which he always swore wasn’t true. She hadn’t had a clue until James walked into that damned room and stared with flaring lust at her naked, bound body.
Ella remembered, clearly, her own agonizing humiliation. Spread open while her husband touched her, as she fought to find arousal in the game he wanted to play. But there had been none. Nothing until James’ eyes had centered on her thighs, spearing past her boredom with an instant, flaring heat. She had creamed herself in seconds, and the terror that Jase, or even James would realize it, had nearly destroyed her.
She sighed morosely as she walked out to the back porch and threw herself into one of the padded loungers there. The late afternoon sun was passing over, but beneath the cool shelter of the low trees and thick vines that wrapped around the porch, Ella was spared the blinding heat. The outer heat. Her inner heat was killing her.
She had finally given up on changing panties. After the second pair, she had thrown her hands up in disgust and stopped. After ten years of no sexual activity, of fighting her desires and her needs, her body was evidently taking over. It wouldn’t stop producing the hot, slick fluid that would ease James’ entrance into her tight pu**y. And it was tight. She shuddered in longing. Tight and greedy, anxious to feel James’ thick, hard c**k sliding into it.
She was losing her mind. She closed her eyes as she tightened her thighs against the empty ache in the center of her body. Her vibrator had disappeared. She didn’t know how, or why, but somehow James had managed to steal it, or hide it, because it was no place to be found. And she needed it.
“You look pretty there, Ella.” She jumped as James stepped to the doorway, staring at her with those hot, sin-filled eyes.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be working.” She would have jumped from the lounge chair if he hadn’t moved to stand in front of it.
She stared up at him, fighting to control her breathing as well as the desire that shook her to her soul.
“I took the rest of the day off.” He shrugged his broad shoulders as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. The action only drew attention to the thick ridge beneath the material. “Is your pu**y wet?”
Ella blinked as the question took her by surprise.
“Are you insane?” her voice squeaked in shock.
“Most likely,” he growled. “Make me crazier. It’s your chance for revenge, Ella. Tell me how wet your pu**y is.”
She bit her lip, breathing fast and hard as she seriously considered the request.
“Go back to work,” she finally whispered desperately, shaking her head.
“Ella, remember how nice I was to you yesterday when my mouth sucked that sweet little clit of yours?”
How could she forget?
“I didn’t ask you to break into my room, James.”
“I want you to suck my c**k like that, Ella. While you’re tied belly down on my bed, my c**k thrusting slow and easy in your mouth and I inflate the plug I’m going to push up your sweet, virgin ass.”
“Stop. Why are you doing this to me?” Her pu**y was gushing between her thighs, so hot it felt blistered by her need. “For God’s sake, James, surely you can find someone to f**k. Do you have to torture me this way?”
She pushed her fingers through her loose hair, feeling the silky strands brush her shoulders, almost shivering at the caress against her ultra sensitive flesh. She was being driven crazy, and he knew it. Maybe it was some kind of messed up mid-life crisis, she thought desperately. Because she knew her own arousal had never tormented her to this degree. It was hell and she wanted it to stop. She wanted him to leave. Or did she?
“I won’t waste my breath answering that question,” he bit out as he stooped down at the end of the lounger. “You want to control it, Ella? Do you really think you can?”
He was so handsome he broke her heart. Hard and toned, his body muscular and so filled with male grace that it took her breath every time she looked at him. And his face, arrogant with just a touch of the aristocratic in his strong, straight nose and superior expression.
“James, I’m asking you to stop this.” Her heart was racing out of control. How was she supposed to deny him when her body ached so desperately for him?
He was like a fever in her blood. As long as she stayed away from him, she could survive it. But now, with his desire for her so clear, her needs raging through her body, she couldn’t find the will to resist him. She was weak. She admitted it and she hated it. Hated the emotional and physical responses that she couldn’t fight any longer.
“Lay back for me, Ella,” he whispered softly. “Lay back, and let me show you what I can do for you.”
Ella watched him helplessly. Her body was tense, demanding action. Demanding that she do as he ask and lay back in the lounger for him. She watched as his tongue touched his sensual lips, as though anticipating a meal, and she knew what he wanted. Knew what he would do to her. Her pu**y gushed in response.
She whimpered as he moved, his hands reaching for her arms, pulling them gently, taking the support she used to keep her body upright as he released the back support of the lounger. He lowered her until her back rested on the flat surface.
Ella stared up at him, trembling, hating the weakness that flooded her body. Damn him. He was so assured, so sensual, so damned tempting she could barely keep her senses intact.
“James.” Her breath caught in arousal as his fingers went to the tiny buttons of her bodice. Her br**sts were unbound beneath the fabric, her ni**les hard, on fire for his touch.