His Mistress, His Terms

by Trish Wylie

  ‘When I visit, yes.’ She started to unbutton her blouse. ‘Could we talk less now?’

  Alex stepped forwards and stilled her hands, his gaze locked on hers. ‘I’ll do that.’

  She reached up instead, and began to unbutton his shirt, her knuckles brushing against his heated skin, her body buzzing with anticipation until she had enough buttons undone to set her lips against his chest.

  The chest that rose and fell faster as she swirled her tongue, nipped his flesh, her hands working on the buttons lower down as she laid her mouth over his sternum and felt his heartbeat against her lips. She wanted him so badly it was almost desperation.

  How had he done that to her?

  When he had the front of her blouse open and his hands on her breasts she moaned against him. Lord, it was agony and yet so-o-o good at the same time. She was officially a puppet—a slave to sex.

  Alex swore softly. ‘You make me crazy, you know that, don’t you?’

  Her mouth blazed a course to the hollow of his neck. ‘Hmm-mmm.’

  She unbuttoned his jeans, her hands shaking as she heard the rasp of the zipper, her knuckles smoothing along the hard length of his straining erection. She wanted him inside her so badly that she could feel her body weeping with the need.

  His thumbs gently teased her nipples into taut peaks that pressed against the lace of her suddenly constrictive bra. But she didn’t want gentle or slow, she wanted him to take her, the hot and fast way, so that the ache inside her would be gone.

  She set her hands inside the band of his jeans and cotton boxers, pushing them both down. But Alex released her breasts and took her hands off him, tangling his fingers with hers and holding their arms out to the sides the way he had when they’d walked along the corridors in his house.

  ‘Slow down, O’Connell.’ His deep voice was thick and husky. ‘Look at me.’

  She’d already looked at him too much in her mother’s stupid class. Moaning in protest, she arched her back so that her stomach was pressed against his; skin to skin, she moved her hips across his, smiling in triumph as he groaned. She didn’t want to look up into his eyes, she just wanted him to feel the physical need as desperately as she did.

  ‘Look at me.’

  Oh, for goodness’ sake! What did he want from her? Wasn’t the fact that she wanted him so badly enough? Frowning, she raised her long lashes until her green gaze met the fiery gold in his hazel eyes. ‘What, Alex?’

  But he didn’t answer her; he just looked at her with the hint of a smile on the corner of lips that always did so much damage.

  Because there it was again: the intensity in his eyes that stole her breath away and made her feel as if she were drowning. Her heart felt as if it were being held in a vice, she couldn’t breathe, she could feel her body begin to shake deep down inside, almost as if she were cold—a startling contrast to the heat that burned her skin outside. And he could do all of that to her with a single look.

  Alex’s lashes flickered briefly; he frowned so small a frown that anyone who didn’t know him as well might not have seen it. ‘There’s that look again.’

  ‘Alex—I don’t want to talk right now.’

  ‘I know, but you need to slow down a little for me. Really—I’m hanging by a thread here. And if you put your hand around me, there won’t even be enough time to put on protection. Let me do all the work this time. Trust me to make it even better than it was before.’

  She raised her chin defiantly and played her ace. ‘We don’t need protection. I have it covered.’

  His sharp intake of breath was exhaled with puffed cheeks, his frown more distinct this time. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since about two weeks after I met you again.’ She tilted her head and smiled a wicked smile, her voice dropping to a low husky tone as she stretched their arms out further from their sides to allow her to step in and rub her aching breasts against his chest.

  ‘Nothing in the way, Alex—you can’t tell me you don’t want that. Think how it’s going to feel when you’re inside me…’ she leaned up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear ‘…when you come inside me…’

  He swore softly again—was caving in on a whole new level—and she could see it on his face and in his eyes when she leaned back. So she bit down on her bottom lip as she smiled, convinced now that she’d get the hot and fast that she wanted, the version that would make her forget all the emotions that were churning around inside her.

  He groaned long and low and set his forehead to hers, backing them towards the bed. ‘And now we really need to slow down.’

  No—not slow. Please not slow.

  When she opened her mouth to protest he silenced her with a heated kiss, his lips moving over hers in masterly sweeps before he leaned in even closer, deepening the kiss and forcing his tongue in to seek hers, while Merrow fought to get her hands free and he simply held them tighter, lifting his head to angle it the other way, kissing her deeper.

  She felt her heart shift in her chest. It was a weird sensation, like a miniature heart attack might have felt, and with his mouth torturing hers she couldn’t gasp for more air and with her hands held trapped in his she couldn’t reach out for him to anchor herself as the floor shifted beneath her feet.

  Emotion bubbled up inside her chest—she was dizzy—drowning—please, Alex!

  When he freed her hands and they both frantically removed clothing until there was nothing in the way, Alex kissing her and kissing her until her blood rushed in her ears, she thought she was actually going to win this one time.

  But when he set her on the narrow bed and lay down beside her, he lifted his lips from hers and framed her face with his large hands, brushing the hair back from her cheeks, his thumbs moving tenderly against the corners of her mouth as he looked deep into her eyes.

  She tried to pull his head closer.

  ‘No. Look at me.’

  He lifted one hand from her face to tenderly cup her breast, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple before he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, making her writhe in response.

  ‘Look at me.’

  Merrow felt frustration building in her aching chest. He was always pushing her, wasn’t he? He could be so demanding. Didn’t he know by now that she wasn’t the kind of woman who could be bossed around?

  When she attempted to touch him again, he lifted his hand from her breast and guided her hand upwards, her arm above her head, and he wrapped her fingers around one of the wrought-iron bars of the bed-head.

  ‘You can’t look at me, can you?’

  She closed her eyes, biting down on her lip as he shifted long enough to lift her other arm and place her hand on another twisted bar.

  ‘Why are you still hiding something from me?’

  ‘Alex—’ She ground his name out from between her gritted teeth, her legs twisting as his hand drifted down her body and slid into her weeping core, one long finger swirling through the moisture.

  He leaned his head in, resting his cheek against hers as he whispered huskily into her ear, ‘Have I ever told you how much I love the fact that you’re always ready for me?’

  She fought down the sob of frustration in her chest.

  While he swirled his finger deeper, still whispering words of seduction in her ear. ‘Even when you try to hide your thoughts—your body never lies…’ His breath tickled against her ear. ‘Look at me, O’Connell.’

  She kept her eyes tightly closed and moaned loudly from between her gritted teeth as her body exploded in a powerful enough orgasm to leave her shaking even harder than before.

  Alex raised his head a little, his breath now fanning her cheek as he swore in low surprise. ‘I’ve barely touched you.’

  ‘I told you how close I was before.’ She opened her eyes and frowned up at him. ‘Not that you were listening.’

  When she loosened the hands that had been gripping tight to the wrought iron above her head he looked up. ‘No, leave your hands there. I’m not done.’

&n
bsp; She was about to protest when his head moved lower and his mouth closed around her nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth where he swirled his tongue. And she had no choice but to grip the bars and hold on tighter.

  How did he do that to her? She twisted her head back and forth and fought off the wave of emotion again—wanting the agony to end and never wanting it to end.

  He released her breast, blew a puff of cold air over her nipple so that it strained tighter and she moaned again. Then he kissed down her stomach, one large hand moving beneath her knee to spread her legs wider.

  Merrow’s head rose swiftly. ‘Alex!’

  Still kissing her stomach, he looked up at her with gleaming eyes. ‘Cinderella’s request has been stuck in my head for a whole week.’

  ‘If you do that—’

  ‘I know. That’s the general idea.’ His hand moved her other knee as he lifted his head briefly, his gaze fixed on hers. ‘This body isn’t yours anymore—it’s mine.’

  ‘Alex, you can’t just—ooh-h-h—’ She’d been going to tell him that he couldn’t possess her like some inanimate object, but her reaction to the first touch of his tongue would have made a complete liar of her. As would the sounds she made while he continued to worship her with long sweeping touches interspersed with shorter, sharper flicks. He was killing her!

  But even while she felt the rolling waves growing in intensity again, her hips straining up and then being held in place by his large hands, she also felt overwhelmed. Lost. As if a part of her had surrendered and she would never, ever get it back.

  ‘Alex—’ Stop. No, don’t stop. Dear Lord.

  ‘Mmm-hmm?’ The vibration of his reply tossed her right over the edge again and she screamed aloud.

  She clamped her eyes shut. It was too much. She couldn’t do this. The second she’d decided to launch into an affair with him had been the beginning of the end for her. No more Merrow—just O’Connell—his O’Connell. That was what it felt like.

  She fought the tears, because she wouldn’t cry in front of him. She couldn’t give him that as well!

  Alex’s voice sounded closer, she could feel the tip of him poised between her legs, his deep voice demanding. ‘Look at me, O’Connell.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  His voice was gentler, she felt his arms shake the bed on either side of her as he supported his weight while he slid oh-so-slowly into her body, stretching her still-trembling muscles.

  ‘Yes, you can.’

  ‘Alex, please—’ She could hear the tremor in her voice, and to her ears it sounded as if she was begging. Just as he’d made her beg him before.

  He slid out until he’d almost left her, his arms shook again, he slid forwards and she could hear his ragged breathing as he fought for control.

  Somewhere in her tangled thoughts she realised that in this one thing, if not in anything else, they were equal. She could bring him to the brink and throw him over the edge just as fast as he could her, couldn’t she? To test the theory while she swallowed down the lump of emotion lodged in her throat she contracted her inner muscles and the move drew an almost strangled groan from deep in his chest.

  ‘O’Connell—look at me!’

  She smiled, determined to find the strength to torture him in retribution for everything he was making her feel. So she forced the emotion back down into her aching chest again and opened her eyes.

  Alex’s face was flushed, his eyes sparkling with gold, his lips parted as he took shaky breaths. And he moved his hips again, slid back until he’d almost left her, slid back and groaned when she tightened around him again.

  Merrow gripped the bars harder, she bent her knees and pushed her heels into the mattress, and she took shuddering breath after shuddering breath while her body shook on a whole new level.

  She shouldn’t have opened her eyes. She shouldn’t have looked up into his gorgeous face.

  Alex frowned down at her. She saw the inner battle in his eyes as his body tensed for release. And then the image blurred as she felt the knot low in her abdomen disintegrating, wave after wave after long, rolling wave of pleasure cascading out and up, to where they washed over her aching heart.

  That was when she heard him groan out his release, when she felt the rush of warmth inside her body—and when she was finally aware of the tears streaking down into her hair at either side of her face.

  Alex went still, a sudden patter of rain on the tin roof of the cabin filled the silence, and Merrow closed her eyes tight again. Damn him—damn him—damn him!

  She didn’t want to be this much in love.

  The softly spoken words tore her apart at the seams. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  She shook her head, releasing her hands so she could push against his chest. ‘Leave it alone. Just this one time.’

  ‘I can’t, O’Connell.’ But he slid from her body anyway, as if he somehow knew that she needed the space.

  And she did.

  She moved swiftly, squirming off the bed to gather her clothes while she swiped angrily at the dampness on her cheeks.

  Alex took a deep breath. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘No, we don’t.’

  ‘Yes, we do.’

  Merrow swore beneath her breath as she dodged his outstretched hand and hauled her clothes on. She’d never had any body issues before, but after the soul-deep connection she’d just felt to Alex she’d never felt so stripped bare before. And she needed the covering as an extra defence while she tried to deal with her emotions.

  ‘I don’t want to bloody well talk. I told you I didn’t want to talk when we got here.’

  ‘Something just happened and I want to know what it was.’

  ‘And we’re well aware of the fact that Alexander Fitzgerald always gets exactly what he wants, doesn’t he?’ She spun on him as she pushed her arms into the sleeves of her blouse, her vision still swimming, which made her even angrier.

  Alex frowned darkly at her as he zipped his jeans and fumbled with the button. ‘What does that mean?’

  She tilted her head and practically spat the words at him. ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘Would I ask if I knew?’

  She scowled at him. ‘Leave it alone. Just this one goddamn time, stop pushing me!’

  Alex’s face fell, and she hated him for the vulnerable husky edge to his deep voice. ‘I can’t.’

  Because that expression coupled with that tone brought a fresh wave of agony into her chest, and her vision swam even more. He looked as if she’d hurt him, and, despite what she was currently doing and saying, she didn’t want to hurt him.

  She just didn’t want to love him this much.

  So she shook her head and dodged past him as he reached a hand out for his shirt, hauling open the door and running out into the rain.

  ‘Wait! O’Connell—damn it—wait a minute!’

  Trying to outrun someone who ran marathons probably wasn’t the wisest decision she’d ever made. But she knew the path better than he did, and once she was on the lawn she sprinted, her heart beating so fast that she could barely catch her breath.

  But when she yanked open the door and ran straight into her father, Alex was right behind her, skidding to a halt on his bare feet, hopping a couple of times to get his balance, while they both gasped for breath.

  Merrow tried to step past her father, but he held her arm, examining her face for a moment before he set her a little behind him and jerked his head to indicate Alex should come in.

  She glanced briefly at him standing inside the open door, his shirt buttoned unevenly, his chest heaving, raindrops running down his face from his wet hair. But when he frowned in pained question and swallowed hard, she looked away. It hurt too much looking at him.

  ‘Which one of you wants to tell me what’s going on?’ Her father examined their faces in turn before he automatically jumped to his daughter’s defence with an accusatory pointing finger. ‘Did he do something?’

  Merrow twisted her arm free a
nd crossed her arms over her chest. ‘No.’

  ‘Bloody looks like he did.’

  ‘I—’ Alex was silenced with a glare.

  ‘I’m speaking to my girl.’ He looked back at Merrow. ‘So what’s going on?’

  ‘Dad—’ her voice shook ‘—he didn’t do anything. I just need some space, that’s all. I can’t think when he’s there—I can’t—he’s just so…He didn’t do anything wrong. Please, just leave it alone.’

  She saw the slow spark of understanding in her father’s eyes and it made her angrier still. ‘Why can’t you all just leave me alone? Why does everything have to be talked through? Why just once in my life—’ She stamped her foot in frustration as she sobbed again. ‘Not everyone wants every single little tiny feeling analysed to death and then lined up with the bloody cosmic forces!’

  When Alex tried to follow her, one arm stretched out and blocked his way. ‘Leave her. I’ve seen this before. If you keep pushing her she’ll only fight harder. It’s what she does. She’s always been that independent that every decision has to be hers and hers alone.’

  Alex frowned hard, and then took a deep, shaky breath as he ran his hand over his face. ‘I might have needed that information a little earlier.’

  His mobile phone rang, breaking the silence. And Alex frowned in apology as he fished it out of his pocket to switch it off.

  ‘Go ahead and take the call.’

  ‘No, it’s—’

  The older man shrugged. ‘Go ahead, Fitzgerald. I’ve a feeling you and I will have time enough to chat, judging by that episode.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  He nodded. ‘Answer your phone. There’s probably some national crisis you need to avert or some striking workers you need to diddle out of a pay rise…’

  ‘Can’t say we architects have those problems.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Finished with your tantrum, my darling one?’

  Merrow ignored her mother’s bright tone. ‘Do you know where Alex is?’

  ‘Oh, I’d say he’s putting his things in his car by now. He popped in to apologise for leaving,’ She continued setting food out onto plates. ‘He brought me the loveliest birthday gift—did you see it?’