“Then why...deny me? You’ve told me no three times.” The rejection, actually, still stung.
“You needed to hear a no,” he said. “I doubt you’ve heard it very often.”
She felt a flash of anger, heat at the back of her neck. This was far too close to the truth for her liking. “So you’re the king then? Ordering us all around? What gives you the right to tell me what to do?”
Durand leaned forward and his knee touched hers at the side of the table. “Because I’m the one who made the Sphinx Society what it is. I say who joins and who doesn’t.”
“Maybe I’ll form my own group then. Keep you out of it,” she threatened, her fingers tightening on the stem of her champagne glass.
A slow smile spread across his face. “It won’t be very interesting without me in it.”
That’s what Asha was afraid of, if she was honest.
“So, why am I here? If you’re just going to reject me again?”
Durand reached out and touched her knee. His hand felt like hot flame on her bare skin.
“Who said I’m going to reject you?”
“Isn’t that what you like to do? It’s not me that’s the tease. You’re a tease.”
He raised an eyebrow, amused as he withdrew his hand from her knee. “Am I?” He took a bite of his chicken and chewed thoughtfully, as she waited for what he’d say next. That she was out of the society forever? That there was no way he’d even consider allowing her entry? “I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth about why you want to be in this club. I don’t think it’s just because you don’t like being told no.”
“I don’t like being told no.”
“Yes, but there’s more to this.” He glanced at her, and she felt almost naked, as if he could see straight through her clothes, straight through her defenses. He took his heavy linen napkin from his lap and patted the corners of his mouth. “I have a proposition for you.”
She felt hope swell in her chest. Hope and nerves. Was this where they got down to business? Finally. Sex for membership. A simple transaction that she was more than willing to make. More than willing. She was looking forward to it.
“Yes?” She left her fork at the edge of her plate, her appetite suddenly disappearing.
“I will give you a membership... If...”
She leaned forward in her chair.
“If you admit to me that the reason you want to join this club is because you want me.”
Asha laughed, but inside, she felt uncertain. Felt as if he could somehow read her mind.
“I want to make Connor feel bad.”
“You’ve long since forgotten about Connor,” Durand said, calling her bluff. This was true. She’d barely given Connor another thought since that day in Sweden when she’d met Durand. “Maybe I’m just here to make a transaction,” she said, bluffing. “Maybe this is just all about me trading sex—or whatever you might want—for membership.”
Durand’s smile grew bigger as he reached out and took her hand. She felt the jolt of contact in her toes. “We both know that’s not true. We both know that if I invited you into my bed tonight—no guarantee of membership—you’d come. Willingly. Dare I say...even...happily?”
Asha’s heart ticked up a notch.
“You’re full of yourself,” she managed, but panic began to well in her stomach. Panic that he was right. And that she wasn’t in control of this game. Maybe never had been.
“Maybe.” He squeezed her hand. “Or maybe, I just know people. Why didn’t you take Connor into your bed? He is handsome, no? Famous? Sought after?”
She didn’t like being put on the spot like this. “Yes. He is.”
“And you were attracted to him.”
She glanced down at her plate. “Yes.”
“So, why did you not have sex with him?”
So many reasons. She knew if she had sex with him, he’d stop paying attention. But, even more than that, she feared he’d disappoint her. Like every other man. Because inside, she worried that she was frigid, a block of ice that would never melt for any man.
“Men are more interesting before they get into my bed than after.”
Durand seemed to take this as a direct challenge. “Is that so? Be honest with me. We wear no masks here.”
Asha took a shaky sip of her champagne. She felt oddly unencumbered, being brutally honest for once. “I’ve not met a man who pleased me. Not really.”
There. She said it. Her dirty little secret. Of her handful of lovers, none had ever made her come through intercourse. One had managed with his hand, after many clumsy tries. None had managed with their mouths, but, in fairness, only one had ever tried. She’d been amazed at the number of men who found it distasteful. They all expected her to please them. But when it came to the other way around? It always seemed a begrudging duty.
A smug smile tugged at the corners of Durand’s mouth. “You mean to say, you have not climaxed?”
“Oh, I’ve climaxed.” Asha thought about all the times she’d done it herself. “But typically only at my own hand.”
Durand laughed then, a dark rumble of a laugh. “Is that why you run through men so quickly? Because all you have had are inept ones?”
“I find men are always inept in the end.”
Durand’s blue eyes sparkled. “You have not had the right man, Asha.”
“And you are, then? The right man?” she challenged him. Men always said that. They always lied. Then, they always blamed her in the end.
“Oh, I believe I am.” He said it with such confidence, even Asha partly believed him. She wanted to believe him.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked, because deep down, she always felt there was something wrong with her. That she really didn’t feel pleasure with men because...she was lacking somehow.
“Do you feel the connection between us?”
Oh, she felt it all right. Asha blinked fast, clutching the stem of her champagne glass as she sat across the table from what could be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Sure, he was an egotistical maniac, but that was part of his appeal. The way he was looking at her right now, the way he was studying her, daring her to contradict him, made her want to try.
“I just want a membership,” she said, lifting her hand from his. She reached over and touched his knee, the pressure she put there unmistakable. “And I’m willing to...sacrifice for it.”
Durand clucked his tongue. “Oh, Asha. We both know it won’t be any sacrifice. Trust me on that. You have had some pitiful lovers. But all that changes. Tonight.”
CHAPTER SIX
ASHA’S HEART WAS truly beating a mile a minute in her chest as she stared at Durand. The rest of the food on her plate would go uneaten while she sat across from him in the small dining room in his hotel suite. Could he deliver on his promise? Could he show her pleasure that no other man had? She realized she wanted him to try. Had wanted it damn near since the first time he’d kicked her out of his party. Yet part of her, also a small part, rooted for him to fail. There was something about Durand, and not just his impressive physique, or his stark blue eyes, or that sexy French accent, that made her want to bring him down a peg.
“You are going to be the man who finally convinces me that they’re worth something?” she challenged. “What if I’m the one who blows your mind? Not the other way around?”
His gaze slid slowly down from her face to her cleavage, on display for him in her plunging neckline. “I know you will, Asha.”
“So?” She let him stare, enjoyed the attention. “Do we have a deal?” She let the words hang there. All he had to do was say yes. All he had to do was nod his head, and then she’d pounce. Then, they’d get on with what she’d come here for.
Durand ran his finger up her arm, raising goose bumps. “No,” he said, meeting her gaze. “We don’t have a deal.”
&n
bsp; “What?” Asha was stunned. Wasn’t this what she was here for? Sex for membership? Cold disappointment rushed down her throat, forming a hard ball. She let his knee go and stood, pushing her seat away from the table, the legs of the chair almost catching in the carpet. She walked to the black-and-gold bar, hands shaking. Durand followed her. She could feel the heat of his body as he stood behind her, so close that his breath tickled the back of her bare neck.
“I mean, that I want you, Asha, but separate from any membership. Separate from the Sphinx Society. I want all of you. One night. It has nothing to do with the society or the membership. But you have to give your body to me. One night. You have to give over everything. That’s the only way you’re going to have the pleasure you deserve.”
“And if I don’t?” she asked, still facing away from him, still not willing to turn around.
“Then you won’t know what it is to truly climax. To truly let yourself go.”
Asha had to admit to herself that she was curious. Durand was so confident. More confident than any other man she’d ever met. But all of her lovers had failed. Granted, there hadn’t been that many of them, but even so. He laid a kiss on the base of her neck. A bolt of desire ran straight down her back.
Asha tried to laugh, but it came out as a little gasp. “So, you want to have sex, even though you’ll probably just reject my membership anyway? What kind of deal is that?”
“The only one you’ll get,” he said and nuzzled her neck, making all the hairs stand up there. “I won’t pay you with a membership. I’ll pay you with a night of pleasure you’ll never forget. You have a passion in you, Asha. You and I are the same. Nothing is ever enough.”
That might be true. Maybe he was the one who could make her feel something real. Make her body work in ways that it was supposed to work. How often had she felt shame after sex with the few she’d taken to her bed? How often had she felt it was her fault that none of their tricks would work? So often.
“You say men have not satisfied you, but I guarantee I will.” He kissed her earlobe, flicking the edge of it with his tongue. She gasped a bit, the gentle touch sending shockwaves through her body. She felt a want for him deep in her belly, a want that burned hot. His words were so seductive. Did she have a flame within her? Did she burn with desire? Maybe she wasn’t frigid. Maybe she just needed the right man.
“How can you be so sure?” she asked. He sucked her neck ever so slowly. She gasped. He reached up and loosened the twist of her hair. It tumbled down her shoulders. He swiped it to one side and kissed her earlobe.
“I know you,” he said. “I know what you need. Give yourself to me. One night. No acting. No masks. Just you.” He put his hands on her waist and pulled her to him, flattening her back against his hard stomach. She leaned into him, naturally, her body sinking into his. He reached around her, laying his hand on her bare knee. He moved upwards, ever upwards, taking the hem of her dress upwards, too. He stroked her inner thigh, his hot hand an invitation and a promise. She spread her legs, offering a path for his hand, and he found the mound beneath her expensive silk underwear. He ran a finger down the seam, and she shivered, her breath coming faster now.
“I can feel how much you want me, Asha,” he murmured in her ear, as he slipped deftly beneath the fabric, the soft pad of his index finger stroking her gently. “You’re ready for me. Admit it, yes? You want me, as I want you.”
“I...” She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to give in. She knew her body wanted him, could feel her want, wet between her legs, and now, his hand stoking that white-hot flame. But admitting this felt like defeat. Felt like she was handing him everything he wanted. It made her feel too vulnerable. Because what if a fire didn’t burn in her? What if inside, she was, as she feared, a block of ice? Just like the other lovers had said?
“I can feel the fire in you,” he whispered, seductive words. “The other men you’ve known have been afraid of it. That’s why you tire of them so easily. I know just how you feel.”
Did he? Did he know?
“Other men won’t know what to do with you. With that desire. I do. I know. Let me feed those flames.” He pushed against her back, showing her just how much he did want her. She could feel his hefty bulge against her lower back and it made her knees weak. He worked her with his fingers, softly, gently, with a determination that told her he’d make her his. And that’s what she wanted right at this moment. Wanted him. Needed him. Something was building inside her, some deep desire, some unlocked want, with the gentle flick of his finger against her.
“I... I...” Her breath came fast. The building of pressure between her thighs. God, was she going to come right here? The man’s hand beneath her skirt was going to be enough to push her over the edge? Never had a man touched her like this. Gentle, insistent, knowing. For the first time she worried he might just be the man to break through her barriers, to make her enjoy sex like she’d never done before. She moved with him, arching into his hand, her body making it obvious how much it wanted his touch, how much it needed him.
“Give yourself to me,” he demanded. His voice in her ear, in her mind, taking control.
She was going to come. She was going to come right here, against the bar, Durand’s hands on her. And then, he stopped, suddenly, whisking his hand away. Her body whined its discontent. She needed that release, needed what his hands would give her. She’d never felt desire like this for a man. Not with any of her other lovers.
“Let the fire grow,” he growled, harsher now. She turned and now she was staring into his blue eyes, and saw the determination there, the grit. He put one of his fingers in his mouth. “I can taste you,” he said. “I can taste your need.”
Her lips parted then. Her thighs burned, and her clit throbbed. She knew he spoke the truth. Knew that he could read the want in her eyes, in her body. She’d never before seen a man so determined to get behind her defenses. Yes. She needed him.
“Yes,” she admitted finally, her voice hoarse. “You can have me. One night.” She felt like a raw nerve, exposed, and yet, her body would let her answer no other way. She was giving herself to him in a way she’d never given herself to any man. But, she told herself, it was for one night.
“Good,” he said, and whisked her into his arms, kissing her open mouth, his tongue lashing hers, both in punishment and in pleasure. Her own mouth opened for him, and took his tongue again, and again, her own meeting his in the most primal of ways. He tasted like something she always wanted, something she always needed. His fingers found the side zipper of her dress and she wanted them there. Wanted all the fabric gone. He slowly moved the zipper down, almost too slowly. He moved a strap of the dress off her shoulder and kissed her bare skin there. She’d gone braless.
He stood back and studied her nearly naked form.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes drinking her in. She could see the want in them, the desire, and it fueled her own hunger. He took a step forward and lifted her up on the bar as if she weighed nothing. She went, shocked, as he spread her knees, the hem of her dress hiked up to her waist. His hands were on her underwear, tugging them downward. She felt her own heartbeat in her clit, thudding to an ancient beat.
“I want to taste you again,” he said, meeting her eyes, and then he dipped down between her knees, his tongue finding her need. His expert tongue caressed her pulsing want and her mind went wild with desire, like nothing she’d ever felt before. The flames felt like they’d consume her from the inside out. She let out a shriek, and clutched his thick hair, holding on for dear life. Her chocolate brown nipples formed hard peaks as Durand devoured her—there was no other way to describe it. It was if he wanted all of her, stoking her fire with his tongue, building it, a wildfire that threatened to rage out of control. Her back arched, and a cry ripped from her throat. He knew what he was doing. More than knew what he was doing. She felt completely out of control. He knew what
her body wanted, knew how to control it, knew how to take her home.
He whipped her with his tongue, bullying her body into submission. But she wanted this. She handed over control to him, handed him her body, and then she came. An explosion of pleasure burst in her mind, her body shuddering with the spasms of pleasure as she cried out, a hoarse cry of surrender.
Her heart beat frantically, and she couldn’t catch her breath as Durand lifted his head from between her thighs.
“Now, your body belongs to me,” he promised, and she believed him. Whatever she had, she’d give him. Her body was his to control. For this night, anyway. He lifted her then, and she wrapped her jellied legs around him, the muscles in them still quivering, as she held tight to his neck. He walked her through the impressive suite, into the massive bedroom, and laid her on his king-sized bed, pushing aside the white furry throw on the high-thread-count comforter. She sank into the soft bed, nude and vulnerable, feeling the soft sheets on her bare back.
“Tell me,” he told her.
“Tell you what?” she asked, raising herself on her elbows.
“That your body is mine. For this night. That you will give yourself to me completely. Because I know this is what you want, no?”
He undressed himself, his nimble fingers undoing the buttons of his expensive shirt. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw his expansive, muscular chest. Lean and cut from hours in the gym. The man took pride in his body. And she admired that. Yes, she did want him. And she wanted to give herself to him—in every way possible.
She nodded. “Yes,” she managed, a croak. “My body is yours.”
“That’s right.” He stepped out of his pants, coming away with a condom he’d stashed in his pocket. So the man was planning for this. He’d come ready. More than ready, she realized, as she saw all of him, saw his want, both in his eyes and his hard cock. She leaned forward then, wrapping her arms around him. He groaned, his eyes never leaving hers.
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