Shameless

Courtney could feel flames licking over her flesh as he suddenly tore his lips free of hers, leaving her fighting to catch her breath as his lips moved along her arched neck, down further, until she felt them cover one violently sensitive nipple.

“Qué usted hace a mí…?” She shuddered as she slipped into her mother’s language. “What do you do to me, Ian?” She could barely breathe, let alone think to remember which language to use.

Her head fell back against the wall, her senses trained on each touch Ian bestowed to her flesh. His fingers wrapped around the swollen mound of her breast, flexing, testing the weight and feel of her as the deep suckling motions of his mouth sent wicked shards of sensation shooting through her.

He was sinfully sexual, nipping at her nipple as the fingers of his other hand played with the opposite peak. Every touch, every moved designed to destroy her sanity, to make her pliable. Submissive.

She struggled past the dazed mists filling her head, a small part of her recognizing, in much amusement, the tactics he was employing on her. As though she were one of the countless women he had bedded over the years. To drown her in sensuality, to capture her senses and hold them captive until he was finished. Until he had drawn every measure of pleasure from her body, leaving her weak and exhausted. Unable to make any demands on his heart, because she was insensible with the sensations he had filled her with.

And he was so close to his goal. The pleasure was like a whirlwind, engulfing her, pushing her deeper into the abyss of sexuality that opened wide within her.

It would be a battle.

Her hands moved from his hair, her nails raking against his neck as they moved beneath the collar of his shirt.

He shivered. She felt the telltale tremor as her womb convulsed in response. His hand clenched at her hip, the other in her hair, a muttered growl echoing from his throat.

It was a warning.

She fought to catch her breath, her head lowering against his, her lips at his ear as his hand moved from her hip to her thigh, just below the end of the short, flirty skirt she wore.

“I’m so wet, Ian,” she gasped against his ear, her teeth nipping at the lobe as she tilted her hips to him.

“Shut up.” His lips moved over her reddened nipple, the spike-hard tip so sensitive now that the caress of his breath against it was nearly painful.

His hand paused on her thigh as he fought for breath.

Her hands slid to the front of his shirt, her fingers gripping the material before she tore it apart, hearing the sound of buttons scattering as satisfaction surged through her.

Ian raised his head, staring back at her as his blue eyes darkened, the flushed features of his face intent, sexual. His fingers tightened on her thigh.

“I’ve been dying to taste you.” Her lips lowered to his neck, her tongue swiping over the rapid pulse that beat just beneath the flesh. “Can I taste you, Ian?”

She had no intention of being gentle. It wasn’t gentleness she wanted, it was Ian, all his hunger, all his sexuality, and she would give him nothing less in return. Her teeth scraped over his collarbone, her tongue flickered rapidly over his flat, hard male nipple before she nipped at it playfully.

“Damn you, Courtney.” He sounded less than pleased with the hard shudder that raced through his body.

She bent her knees, her fingers moving to the waistband of his slacks.

Her mouth watered.

The hard wedge of his cock was just before her eyes, hidden by nothing more than the fabric of his clothing.

The belt was disposed of quickly, despite her shaking hands.

As her finger slid the metal clasp of his slacks free, her head tilted back, her eyes locking with his. She gripped the tab of the zipper, licked her lips and pulled it down slowly.

Ian watched carefully, seeing the daring in Courtney’s eyes, the challenge in her expression as she slowly released the zipper of his pants, pulling apart the material before hooking her hands in the band of his underwear briefs and releasing his straining cock.

Her hands were like silken flames. It was all he could do to stay still, to endure her teasing, taunting gaze, her soft fingers wrapping around his dick, stroking it, threatening the self-control that had always been so much a part of him.

He wasn’t about to give in to her dare.

He wasn’t about to give her the desire he could see raging in her eyes. The desire to break him. She wanted everything he had turned his back on years before. She wanted something he could never be again.

“So hard,” she whispered, her lips tilting mockingly. He didn’t know if she meant his cock or him in particular.

He watched her silently, wondering how far she dared to go. How far she would carry this charade she had begun. Innocence gleamed in her dark eyes, pure, sweet, it made his heart clench, his chest tighten at the sight of it. No woman so soft, with a gaze so pure, could be the temptress she was pretending to be.

Then she licked her lips. A slow, sensual glide of her silken pink tongue over full, pouty lips. His cock jerked in her grip as a bolt of lust whipped through his system. Fiery. Control-threatening.

Ian grimaced at the lightning-fast surge of pleasure, then clenched his teeth with furious determination as her tongue touched the head of his cock, swirled around it.

“Fuck!” She consumed him.

Her lips opened over the broad crest, surrounding it in a blistering, agonizing pleasure so overwhelming he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t spill his seed then. Now.

And she had no mercy.

As though his single lapse had been all she needed to turn from innocence to sinful bold lust in one fell swoop. Her eyes darkened to nearly black, her mouth opened and the head of his cock disappeared into the moist, rich depths of her mouth.

“Damn you, Courtney.” He heard the strangled, hungry sound of his own voice and would have winced at the depth of desire it revealed, if he had the strength to do anything other than hold back his release.

His hands went to her hair, his fingers clenching on the long silken strands as he felt her hold him snugly in the dark, heated cavern. And he watched.

Watched as his cock slid back, sliding along the moist curves of her lips as her tongue stroked him heatedly. Watched as he pressed back in, feeling her taste him, consume him as his strokes became deeper, stronger.

It was the most sensual, erotic thing he had ever seen.

Why? How could a woman that he would almost swear was a virgin, affect him to this depth?

“Suck it, baby,” he groaned roughly, his thighs tightening as his balls ached with the need for release. “Suck me deep, sweetheart.”

He could only watch as she took him deeper, the head of his cock touching her throat, the ultra-sensitive flesh absorbing her ragged moans as he stretched her lips wide, reddened them, and gave her a carnal, sinful appearance.

And that tongue.

It was like a lashing flame, licking, flickering beneath the sensitive head, rubbing, stroking…

“Fuck yeah. Suck my dick, Courtney.” His knees were weak, sensations flooding his body that he would have never expected.

The pleasure was so intense. Too intense. It was destructive.

“So pretty… That sweet mouth stretched so tight… Oh hell yes, lick my cock, darlin’, lick it like candy…”

She was killing him.

She drew back then, fighting his hold on her hair, her tongue curling over the flushed, bulging tip before it popped free of her mouth. He pushed back. She pulled away, straightening slowly as her tongue ran over her swollen lips.

“Goodnight, Ian,” she whispered then, the shocking words spearing straight to his gut as he watched her with brooding, simmering lust. The hunger rising inside him was nearly violent. Strong enough, intense enough, to terrify him.

And there she stood, confidence simmering in her eyes, anger lighting them.

“What more do you want?” He felt like howling in raging hunger.

A sad little smile tipped her lips, reddened from the light fucking he had given them.

“I want it all.” Her answer shocked him. “Everything, Ian. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Chapter Five

The bedroom door opened less than two minutes after Courtney closed it behind her, Ian stepping into the room and closing it with a barely leashed control that had shivers chasing up her spine.

“Are you wanting me to rape you, Courtney?” He leaned against the panel, crossing his arms over his torn shirt as he watched her with blazing eyes. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you better than to tease a man in such a fashion?”

She lifted her shoulder negligently as she pulled the snug top from her body and tossed it to the wide chest at the end of her bed.

Soft light spilled from the bedside lamps, emphasizing the heavy dark furniture and the brooding expression of the man watching her.

“I won’t lie to you.” She released the button to her skirt and let it fall to the floor as she stepped from her shoes. “I didn’t come here to fuck you, Ian. I came here to belong to you. There’s a difference. I’m not one of your submissive little one-night stands.”

His eyes flared, darkened to a midnight blue as his expression became savage, intense. There was hunger there, more hunger than Courtney had ever seen reflected in a man’s face. But there was also denial, wariness.

“Then you shouldn’t push your way into my bed,” he snapped. “There’s only one type of woman who joins me there, Courtney. It’s not tender little innocents with stars in their eyes.”

She pushed back the flare of pain his statement brought.

She knew better of course. Oh, not that that wasn’t exactly the type of woman he used. But he wanted more. She had seen it in his eyes as his cock sank to her throat. She had watched the emotions raging there, and knew that he hid from himself as well as her.

“Keep your bed, Ian.” She pretended to be unaware of the lust blazing from his eyes as she walked, nearly naked now, to the chest of drawers and pulled a short, midnight silk gown from the top drawer. “I am not a one-night stand, in any man’s bed. Especially yours.” She pulled the gown over her head, shimmying out of her thong panties as the hem fell over her hips.

If she wasn’t mistaken, the temperature in the room shot up by several degrees. She could feel the heat moving in the air around her, caressing the sensitive nerve endings still rioting from Ian’s touch.

“You knew when you began this harebrained campaign what you were getting into, Courtney,” he snapped. “You know me, perhaps better than most…”

“Better than anyone,” she injected coolly, facing him squarely now. “Don’t fool yourself, Ian. I know you too well. And this is why you’re terrified of taking me into your bed. You know I’ll not be a one-night stand. Once you have me, you’ll only want more.”

“You’re not exactly potato chips, Court,” he grunted, his lips tilting mockingly.

“For you, I’ll be a drug.” She lowered her voice, struggling to control her breathing, the harsh beat of her heart. “One you’ll only become more addicted to each time you experience it. Because that’s what you are to me, Ian. A drug. Addictive. I can’t get you out of my mind, nor my heart…”

“It’s a crush, Courtney,” he whispered gently then, moving across the room slowly, his expression so tender it made her want to weep. “An immature obsession.”

There it was. In the only way he could allow himself to feel anything for her. As though she were a child in need of a pat on the head.

“Oh, get over yourself, Ian.” She tried to whirl away from him. She couldn’t allow him to touch her, not now, not while he was trying to convince himself she was still a child. “I’ve never had a crush on you…”

“You’ve always had a crush on me.” The confidence in his voice raked over her patience. “When you were sixteen, you watched me as though I were a god.”