Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3

by Jackie Ashenden

  “Okay?” Raphael whispered.

  “Yes,” she croaked.

  But she wasn’t really. Her skin felt hot, her heart racing, a flood of intense desire gripping her so tight she could hardly breathe.

  Connor was like a man turned to stone. But she saw the way his fingers dug into the arms of his chair, knuckles white. As if he was barely holding himself back from getting up and coming over to where she sat. And the look on his face… His jaw was tight, his long, beautiful mouth hard, his eyes glittering with restrained fury.

  Intense satisfaction bloomed inside her, mixing with the fear and the desire to become something hot, volatile.

  What the hell are you doing? With this complete stranger? You should stop this right now. Before you go too far.

  Yet she knew wasn’t going to. Something had her in its grip, something powerful. A drive that seemed to come from a place inside herself she hadn’t known existed. A wild part of her soul she’d always wanted to explore and yet never had the guts to do so.

  A drive fuelled by the expression on Connor’s face. By his fury and the undeniable heat in his eyes. And by the fact that he wasn’t hiding either of those things. He felt them. And they were both directed at her.

  She shouldn’t be glorying in his reaction. And she definitely shouldn’t want to push him even further.

  Yet she felt both of those things.

  “More,” she said thickly and she wasn’t quite sure whom she said it to. Connor or Raphael. Either way, it didn’t matter as long as one of them did something.

  The hand on her hip moved, sliding under the split of her dress to the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. The breath caught in her throat but he didn’t go any further, his thumb beginning to stroke her back and forth.

  Victoria shivered helplessly.

  And something snapped in Connor’s gaze.

  He got up out of his chair in a sharp, fluid motion and strode over to the door. Then he looked around the room, at the small number of people still sitting around.

  “Out,” he ordered.

  It was his courtroom voice, strong, deep and full of authority. And everyone slowly began getting to their feet and making for the door like good courtiers before a king.

  Within a minute the room was empty apart from her and Raphael.

  Connor slammed the door shut. Then he turned and looked at her, and what little breath she had left rushed out of her.

  The cold, passionless man she knew from her marriage was gone. In his place was the courtroom tiger, hungry for a victory. For a kill. He began to stalk toward her, focused, intent, fierce. His fury a honed blade she could feel the sharp edge of as he came nearer and nearer.

  Her mouth was dry as a desert, her heartbeat rocketing out of control.

  Fear curled inside her, not that he’d hurt her—he’d always abhorred violence of any kind—but a different kind of fear she couldn’t name. A fear inextricably linked with the pulse of desire throbbing between her thighs.

  How had it got to this? Sitting in another man’s lap while her husband stalked toward her like a hungry predator?

  You like it…

  Yes, and perhaps that’s why she was afraid.

  Connor came closer, his gaze fixed on her. She tensed, her breath thick in her throat.

  Raphael didn’t move, his body beneath hers completely relaxed. His thumb continued to move on her thigh in a gentle stroke and she wanted to tell him to stop, that perhaps she’d gone too far. But she couldn’t speak.

  Connor came to a stop right in front of the armchair. He didn’t look at Raphael, every ounce of his furious attention focused on her.

  Her whole body tensed even further, her fingers digging into the black velvet of the arms of the chair. She tried to keep her expression neutral, to not let any of her fear or her arousal show. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to her. This was going to be her victory, not his.

  “You’ve been using him to push me all night, Victoria,” Connor said, in a low hard voice. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She didn’t really understand what he was talking about until his sharp gaze flicked to the man behind her. “You okay with this?”

  “Oh, I think so.” Raphael’s voice was soft and uninflected.

  God. So he was going to include Raphael as well. Her whole body tightened.

  Connor’s gaze dropped back to meet hers. “This is my show from now on,” he said quietly, roughly. “Hold her knees apart.”

  Raphael didn’t speak, but he shifted, his hands moving to slide along her thighs and grip her knees, easing them apart. And holding them there.

  She sucked in a ragged breath, keeping her gaze on Connor’s.

  He came closer, standing right in front of the armchair, staring down at her. “You want to push me, Victoria? Make me angry? Is that what you’ve been trying to do?”

  “I just want you to sign the damn papers.” Her voice was much thicker than she wanted it to be and slightly shaky.

  “And using this man will make me do that?”

  Behind her, Raphael was silent. Clearly he understood this actually had nothing to do with him.

  “Why not?” she said. “I had to do something.”

  Connor put his hand on the side of the armchair, near her head, and totally ignoring Raphael, slowly leaned in. “And how far were you going to go? Were you going to fuck him in front of me?”

  He almost never swore and there was something about the way he said the word that hit her like a quarrel from a crossbow. A heavy, solid blow, echoing through her.

  She could barely breathe, achingly conscious of Raphael’s hands on her, his fingers pressing against the sensitive skin on the inside of her knees. Of how open she was beneath her dress. Of the dull ache of need becoming sharper, more intense.

  Connor was so close, his mouth right there. Oh God, how long had it been since she’d been that near to him? Close enough to smell the familiar scent of his aftershave, a fresh clean scent that always reminded her of the ocean. To feel the seductive heat of his body.

  She hadn’t been able to bear being near him for a long time, so close to what she wanted and yet knowing she’d never be able to have it. And yet now…

  She swallowed, staring back into the deep, intense blue of his eyes. Meeting his challenge. Answering it. “Would it have made you angry?”

  He didn’t blink. “Yes.”

  “Then maybe I would have.”

  A dense, impossible silence fell. And it was only through sheer force of will that she managed to hold his gaze. It was like looking into the sun. She was almost blinded.

  Then he looked down and with his free hand casually flipped aside the silk of her dress along the side-split, baring her to the waist.

  Victoria sank her teeth into her lip, holding in the short, shocked sound that threatened to escape as all her muscles locked. Raphael’s hands were firm against her flesh, keeping her knees apart. She could feel him beneath her, hot, solid muscle, his scent, in contrast to Connor’s, spicy and musky. Not at all unpleasant. He was also hard.

  Connor raised his head, looking into her eyes again. “I’m going to give you a choice, Victoria. You can leave, walk out the door now and we can pretend this never happened. Or you stay and show me just how far you’re prepared to go to get those papers signed.”

  She swallowed. “So if I choose not to do this then you won’t sign the papers? Is that what you’re saying?”

  His gaze didn’t even flicker. “Yes.”

  “You manipulative bastard.”

  “That’s interesting coming from the woman in no panties, who’s been playing around with another man purely to get back at me.”

  Her heartbeat was loud in her head, getting faster and faster. She could feel her own anger beginning to rise too, and along with it, the
insistent desire. “You can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “Neither can you.” He put his hand on her thigh, his fingers along her sensitive flesh. “I don’t want to sign those papers just yet and I don’t like being manipulated into it.”

  She began to tremble as his fingers moved higher. “And I don’t like you refusing to do something entirely reasonable for no reason at all.”

  “I have a reason.” His fingers moved even higher, his gaze burning into hers. “But I’m not going to tell you until you make a decision.”

  Her body ached, desire and fear clawing up inside her. But she wasn’t going to give in. Not yet. “It’s not much of a choice,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You don’t need me to sign those papers in order to leave, Victoria. Nothing is making you stay apart from sheer bloody-mindedness.” His deep, rich voice paused. “Unless there is something else you’re hoping for.”

  She tried to take a breath and failed. “What?”

  His hand moved and she felt the lightest brush of his fingers against her sex. It was only a bare touch but she felt it like he’d trailed a lit match over her skin, leaving her burning, on fire. Instinctively she tried to close her legs but Raphael’s fingers tightened, holding her open.

  It was a slip. A mistake. Connor’s eyes glittered. “Ah, I thought so. You want me. You want this.” And his hand moved between her thighs in another light touch, his fingers beginning to trace the outline of her sex in a slow, lazy movement.

  He’d never touched her like this before, purely for the pleasure of it. And she couldn’t stop the sound that escaped her this time, a choked gasp as a vicious kind of need began to twist inside her. “I don’t…I don’t want you,” she forced out, her voice ragged.

  He leaned in closer. “Tell me to stop then.” His fingers moved higher, finding her clit, circling gently, maddeningly.

  She wanted to say it, to not give away so much to him. But she couldn’t bring herself to get the word out. Because he was right. She wanted him. His dark hunger and his intensity, all the things he’d denied her for too many years.

  All the things that burned in his eyes right now.

  “I’m s-staying,” she said hoarsely. Not an admission, yet not a denial either.

  He said nothing for a moment, studying her, his fingers moving in slow, easy circles. “You’re wet, Victoria. I can feel it. Is that me or him?”

  Him. Raphael. Who was still and silent behind her, keeping her legs apart. God, she’d almost forgotten he was there. She wanted to say it was Raphael, just to push Connor more.

  But of course that would be a lie.

  Connor’s fingers eased lower, his touch on her slick flesh unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. He looked down at what he was doing and she couldn’t seem to stop shaking, the look on his face taut with desire.

  This was not the man she married. The man with whom she’d last had perfunctory sex over eighteen months ago. Whose expression had remained shuttered and closed afterwards as he’d given her a dry kiss on the cheek. Leaving her with an aching sense of loss.

  No, this was not that man. This was someone else.

  “You,” she breathed, unable to help herself.

  His gaze flicked up, meeting hers. And there was fire in it. And a steely determination that made her tremble even harder.

  He took his fingers away, easing back from her and she almost protested, her body tensing, aching at the loss. “Make her come,” he ordered softly to the man behind her. “If she wants it from me, she’s going to have to earn it.”

  He saw the anger flare deep in Victoria’s dark eyes. And felt the savage twist of his own satisfaction. He’d made her make a mistake. Because he was betting she’d been desperate to keep the fact she wanted him hidden. And yet he’d gotten it out of her, forced her to say it.

  His fury began to abate, becoming sharper, more precise.

  He didn’t look at the man sitting behind her, the guy was almost irrelevant now because what mattered was that she wanted him. And he wasn’t going to let her have him.

  If she wanted pleasure, she’d have it on his say so and only given by someone else. Because when he finally gave it to her, he wanted her desperate for it. He wanted her begging.

  Victoria was panting, her legs held spread and open by Raphael’s hands. Her dress pulled tight over her full breasts, the fabric outlining the hard press of her nipples. Black curls cascaded over one shoulder and there were black curls too between her thighs. She was deeply flushed, her mouth full and red, lips parted.

  He couldn’t stop looking at her.

  Over the years he’d tried not to give in to the erotic fantasies that used to invade his dreams. Fantasies about her on her knees, begging him to fuck her. Do anything to her. Anything at all. Fantasies where she looked at him the way Lily had looked at Kahu, and he’d taken her over and over again, hard and rough, giving in to the desire for her that continued to haunt him.

  Eventually he’d stopped dreaming about her, but it didn’t stop those images from flashing in his head every time he made love to her. They’d made sex so difficult he’d felt nothing but relief when she’d started pulling away from him, sex becoming rarer and rarer between them.

  It had been easier that way. Better no sex at all than for him to be at the mercy of his desires. He’d seen firsthand the consequences of that. In other people. And in himself. He even had the reminder inked into his skin so he never forgot.

  But perhaps that approach had been a mistake. Perhaps it was better to purge himself of his fury and his hunger once and for all.

  His gaze dropped and he let himself look between her thighs, where the folds of her pussy glistened in the dim light of the bar. All wet and open. For him.

  Well, she wasn’t the only one. He was hard, aching for her, but he wasn’t going to give in yet. Not until he got what he wanted from her.

  Raphael’s hands were moving, sliding up her thigh, but then she said, “Stop.” The hands stopped.

  Connor looked at her, watching the dark flame burn in her eyes. “Scared?”

  But it wasn’t fear coloring her cheeks. “No,” she snapped. Her head turned slightly. “Do you have a condom, Raphael?”

  The other man flashed him a look because it was clear where this was headed.

  The blood in his veins began to pound, his breathing accelerating. So she was going to do it. She was going to fuck this guy right in front of him. Pushing him, right to the last.

  Well, she wasn’t the only one who could push.

  He gave Raphael a brief nod.

  “Of course,” the other man said. “I always have a condom, darling.”

  Victoria’s dark gaze returned to Connor’s, full of challenge and fire. “Good. If you’re going to make me come, I’d really prefer it if you were inside me.”

  The atmosphere, already thick and charged, became electric.

  Was she expecting him to protest? To lose his temper entirely and storm from the room? No, she wasn’t. She was expecting him to stop it. She was expecting him to grab her and fuck her himself.

  That was too damn bad. Because he wasn’t going to. At least, not yet.

  So he said nothing, only watching her as Raphael shifted behind her, putting his hands on her hips and easing her forward. Victoria didn’t look to see what he was doing, her gaze firmly on Connor’s.

  “Does this bother you?” Her voice was soft, a taunting note in it. “Knowing I’m going to have another man inside me?”

  Raphael took something out of his pocket, a wallet. He extracted a packet from it.

  “Say it properly, Victoria,” Connor murmured, watching the color ebb and flow in her cheeks. “You’re going to have another man fuck you.” And he could see also the effect the word had on her, the faint flicker of her gaze. “What’s the matter
? Are you going to back out? After I’ve gotten your pussy good and ready for him?”

  Another flicker, her pupils dilating, a soft hitch in her breathing. Oh she liked that, did she? She liked having him say those filthy words to her. Words they’d never, ever said to each other before.

  The sound of a zipper being drawn down was loud in the room, the crackle of foil following it. Her knuckles were white on the arms of the chair.

  Jesus. Did she really want this?

  He moved closer to the chair, the scent of musk and sex already heavy in the air. Reaching out, he took her chin in his hand, forcing her head back, looking down into her wide, black eyes. “You don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

  She didn’t move, but he could see the brief gleam of triumph in her gaze. “Jealous, Connor?”

  “You’re afraid.”

  A flicker of shock crossed her face then it was gone. “Not of this. Do it, Raphael.”

  Connor didn’t release her chin, watching her, and she didn’t look away as the other man lifted her slightly, positioning himself. Then her eyes widened, a soft sound escaping her as she was lowered again and Connor couldn’t help looking down as the other man’s cock pushed into her, the soft, wet folds, her pussy spreading to accommodate him.

  It was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen in his life.

  Raphael gave a soft grunt, one arm sliding around her waist, holding her in position.

  “Wait,” Connor ordered. He was going to be in charge of this, not her. Tightening his grip on her chin, he said, “Keep your eyes on me, Victoria. Only on me.”

  She was shaking, that cool, shuttered gaze of hers now wide and open. Staring at him.

  “Fuck her, Raphael,” he said softly. “But take it slowly because I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want you to make her come. I want to do it.”

  She hadn’t meant to take it this far, she really hadn’t. But he’d forced the admission from her and she’d been so damn angry. She hadn’t wanted him to know. She’d never wanted him to know. And now he did so she had to do something.

  But she couldn’t remember now what she’d even been trying to prove because she was sitting in this chair, and Raphael was inside her. And Connor had her chin in his hand, forcing her to look into his blazing blue eyes, where there was nothing but fury and heat.