by Jenika Snow
“Everything okay?” Sorcha didn’t care why she even wanted to know what caused those frown lines on his forehead. Maybe she was just so used to making sure his day ran smoothly during the week that seeing him clearly upset about something was a little unsettling?
He glanced at her, shoved his phone in his pocket, and nodded. “Everything’s fine.” He took the card back and the dress now in a plastic bag, and took her arm to lead her out of the store. Once they were out of the shop he took her toward the black Mercedes waiting by the curb. She climbed in, he got in behind her, and the driver shut the door gently.
She stared at him as the car pulled away from the curb and into heavy New York traffic. He seemed tense, uncomfortable even. “Rian, I’ve worked for you long enough to know when you’re pissed about something. And even if you weren’t doing the silent treatment, you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm.”
Rian glanced at her, and for a few seconds he didn’t speak. When he finally did he sounded annoyed and tense. “It really isn’t that big of a deal, or it wasn’t at first.”
“What do you mean?” She shifted in her seat to face him better, and a second later he was putting up the privacy screen that separated the back from the front of the car.
“It’s nothing, just work, and then a slight annoyance from a…” He glanced away for a moment, and she saw his jaw harden.
“A lover scorned?” She phrased it like a question even though she already knew that was what the drama was about.
Rian looked at her again. “That obvious?”
She shrugged. “It was an educated guess given the number of women you’ve pissed off.”
He started chuckling. “I can’t argue that.” His voice was so deep, but soft right now. This was the Rian she liked being around.
“But seriously, there isn’t going to be an ex-girlfriend that comes knocking on the door ready to kick my ass, is there?” She was half teasing. Although she could handle herself, Sorcha really didn’t want any drama, even if she was only with Rian for seven days.
“She wouldn’t get past security.” He said it in a teasing manner, but there was truth behind his words, she could feel it.
“Great, like this whole situation wasn’t awkward enough.” She chuckled uncomfortably, and turned back around so she was facing the front.
“Some women just don’t know what it means when a man says they don’t want anymore.”
She slowly looked at him. “Are you serious?”
He looked at her as if she were the one that had lost her mind. “Very.”
“So it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you use women as if they were nothing more than vessels to unload your orgasms into?” Sorcha was blunt, but Rian was the type of man that needed to hear that. He could be conceited, arrogant, cocky, and could be an all around douche-bag. Maybe it was his upbringing, the fact he had whatever he wanted at the tips of his fingers, women included? Or maybe he was hiding something deeper inside, reflecting that in his actions? She didn’t know, but it wasn’t her place to question it anyway.
“Coarse and crude language for a lady, Sorcha.” He said the words with a bite to them, but she didn’t care if she pissed him off.
“You didn’t specify that you wanted a lady in your contract, Rian. If that’s what you wanted you picked the wrong woman.” He didn’t respond, but then again she didn’t think he would. “You used those women, Rian, just like you’re using me.” She was silent for a moment. “You’ve shown me different side of you, a softer side. How can you expect a woman not to fall for you?”
He stared at her with this stormy and pissed off expression, but also something else flickered in his blue eyes. Was he thinking about what she had just said? She hadn’t exactly hidden her own emotions.
“This conversation is finished, Sorcha.”
“No, it’s not. I’m not finished, Rian. If I have to be subjected to some jealous rich bitch coming at me because she is in love with you and thinks I’m stealing you away from her, I think all of this needs to be brought to light.” She stared at him just as hard as he was watching her. “You use women until a time when you don’t want them anymore. Hell, you’re doing it to me, because clearly a week is the cutoff time in which you can deal with my presence.”
“It’s not that—”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “I’m the last person to judge anyone. I signed that contract, took the money you offered, so I am using you as much as you’re using me.” She lowered her hand to her lap. “But I also know when the truth is right in front of me. You get what you want because you’re gorgeous, intelligent, and know what you want out of life. I can appreciate and respect that. But don’t try and lie about it, least of all to yourself.”
He stayed silent, and she knew that her words had penetrated him. He faced forward, his brow furrowed as he thought, but she didn’t continue speaking. She had said what she needed to say, and what he needed to hear. He had said he liked her not backing down, not to get sucked into his alpha-ness—clearly her words not his—and so she had delivered on that. But on the heels of what she had said, Sorcha couldn’t think about her own words, and reflect them on her. Glancing at Rian again she saw that his hands were in tight fists on his thighs, his knuckles white from the strain. He was facing away from her, but his reflection showed an almost distant and forlorn expression. She could see that he knew her words were right, and what surprised her was that he wasn’t outright rejecting them.
She could handle a psycho ex that wanted her man back, could even handle this week, but what she didn’t know if she could handle was this blossoming sensation inside of her. It was a feeling that maybe she could fall for this man, and what scared the shit out of her was that she knew with time it would grow if she allowed it to. Hell, to feel anything but annoyance and hatred for Rian after only being with him for this short time should have made it clear that she could be totally and utterly lost to him.
Chapter Thirteen
The coffee table was set with candles, the overhead lighting low and intimate. The curtains on the floor to ceiling windows were pushed aside, and because the room was so dimly lit the lights outside seemed exponentially brighter. Although she hadn’t been with Rian very long, she had seen a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act with him. He could frighten her with just a look, have her needy and wet with the way he stared intently at her, and could kiss her off like nobody’s business. It was a love and hate relationship she had inside of her, one where she wanted to hate herself for feeling anything for him aside from disgust, but then she loved the way he made her feel when he touched her, or told her what to do. She had actually been surprised the sex with him hadn’t been anything insane. He was rough for sure, but the things he whispered, the way she felt him touch her at times, let her think that how he acted wasn’t all of who he was. It was a hard exterior that she knew could be broken.
She stepped into the living room and glanced around the opulent space. They had finished eating dinner over an hour ago. But instead of Rian sleeping with her he had retreated to his office to work. Even if she had pushed everything back a week so she would have this time with him, it seemed Rian was still preoccupied with work. There were deep, loud, and angry muffled sounds coming from down the hallway, and she turned and stared in that direction. A second later the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps, and then she heard a door open and slam shut. Rian was making his way down the hallway toward her, his face angry, and she knew that right now the bastard side of him was in full swing. He wore a pair of dress slacks and a white button down shirt that had the first few buttons at the neck undone. His sleeves were also rolled up his toned forearms, and when he walked right by her without saying a thing she knew she should have stayed in the bedroom.
Sorcha turned so she could face him and watched as he poured himself a drink. He did this twice, filling up the glass and then tossing it back before he repeated the process.
“You want one?” he asked without facing her.
He didn’t respond, just grabbed another glass, flipped it over, and poured a generous amount of the dark alcohol he was drinking. He turned and handed her the glass, and once she had it he turned around and poured himself another one. Sorcha smelled the alcohol, wrinkled her nose at the potency of it, but took a drink anyway. She needed something to help calm her nerves. Of course she wasn’t afraid of him, but she was unsure of things still, or how she felt around him, and the fact that she knew if she opened herself up to the possibilities that Rian wasn’t as evil as he liked to portray, she might have a hard time keeping her resolve. But in the last twenty-four hours they had surprisingly spoken several times, conversations that were personal, intimate even. He had asked her about her life, despite the fact she knew he had dug up everything about her. And in return he had shared a few details with her, about his life, and how while growing up he had been alone most of the time. She wasn’t a therapist, but she assumed that maybe some of his aloofness steamed from that.
But right now he was pissed over something, most likely work related, and she knew that his anger would be transformed to insatiable lust, and would be directed at her. It was fast, raw, pounding sex, and although she knew that he transformed his rage into the sex he gave her, there was never any anger directed toward her.
After he was finished with his drink he set the glass down and moved over to the window. Sorcha finished off her drink, and when she had consumed the liquid fire she breathed out and set her glass down, too. Her eyes watered from the bourbon, and her stomach roiled. She breathed out and wiped the tears from her eyes. She so shouldn’t have tossed it back.
“Not much of a bourbon drinker?” he asked but still faced the window.
“No.” She wiped her cheeks again to get off the moisture and then looked around.
“Bad phone call concerning some transfers of funds, so it put me in a rather foul mood.” He turned around, his hands in his pockets, his gaze trained on her.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, not sure what to say to that. He had ordered her to bathe and meet him out here. His nature was far from tame, and she found she liked this dark side of him, liked the way he ordered her around, yet made sure she was also taken care of in the process. He stared at her for a few seconds, and then moved over to the leather chair pressed against the corner of a wall. The shadows partially hid his face, but she could see that he was still staring at her. The way he watched her had her unease over what was going to happen leave, and in its place that familiar burn of desire.
“Take off your shorts and panties, and get on your knees,” he said in a calm, deep voice that brooked no argument.
For a second all she did was stand there, her pulse beating angrily right in her throat, and her palms starting to sweat. When she had her shorts and panties off, she just stood there for a moment, the uncertainty of the situation and her lust rising.
“Get. On. Your. Knees.” He said it harder this time, his annoyance clearly coming through.
A shiver worked up her spine, and the fact she got wetter because of his demanding tone should have made her feel sick. Having someone order her around shouldn’t have made her feel sexy or even wanted, but she did, on both accounts. Sorcha sank to her knees.
“Turn around, and present yourself to me. Show me what’s mine.”
Her heart started beating frantically, but she did as he asked.
“Place your chest flesh with the floor, keep your ass high in the air, and spread your legs wide.”
She could hear him breathing deep, even.
“Look at that,” he said deeply. “So fucking ready for me.”
Sorcha took a deep breath, and when her breasts were to the ground, and her ass was so obscenely displayed, she waited for him to do whatever the hell he was going to do. The ticking seconds that passed had her pussy getting so wet.
“Crawl to me.”
She straightened, not sure what the point was of showing off her pussy and ass for a few seconds. Standing again, she was feeling this desire pound through her like a drum. She opened her mouth, maybe to tell him to stop toying with her, but before she could get the words out he tsked at her.
“I said crawl to me. I didn’t ask for commentary, or attitude.”
She was more aroused than she ever had been. Maybe something was wrong with her? Dropping to her hands, she took a steadying breath and started to move toward him. The hard flooring was cold and unforgiving, but she blocked out the discomfort and focused on Rian. When she was right before him she looked at his face, and saw nothing but cool composure. Her mouth instantly went dry when he went for the belt of his jeans. Once that was undone he pulled his zipper down. It was erotically sick the way he grabbed his erection out through only the flap, not even bothering to undo the button, and started stroking himself up and down slowly. This felt cheap in every way, but that didn’t stop her from getting even more turned on because of it.
“Go on, Sorcha, suck my cock.” He stared at her hard. “Do what I say not because you agreed to all of this, but because you want my cock in your mouth like a hungry little slut.”
A gasp left her at his brutally coarse language, but even him calling her a slut for wanting his dick couldn’t turn her off. She glanced down at his large size, at the way he continually stroked himself lazily, as if waiting for her to obey him. Leaning forward, she felt her throat constrict and her mouth water. He grabbed a chunk of her hair and yanked her forward. A gush of wetness left her pussy and slipped down her thigh.
“Now, suck my cock.” He pulled her head forward until the slick tip of his shaft moved along her lips. “Yes, that’s so fucking good. Now move your tongue around and stroke the underside of my dick.”
She did as he said, and the salty flavor of his pre-cum covered her taste buds. Flattening her tongue and doing what he said required her to take in more of his length. She wanted more of him in her mouth, wanted the tip to hit the back of her throat, and wanted to swallow his cum. God, she really was a slut for him. A moan left her at the salty flavor of his pre-cum. It certainly wasn’t a flavor that she thought tasted good, but coming from Rian made it an aphrodisiac. Letting her mouth do the work, she started sucking him with fervor, grabbing the root of his shaft with her hand and stroking him in time with her mouth.
“That’s it. Suck me until I come, Sorcha.” He still had his hand in her hair and kept her head stationary as she sucked him harder and faster.
Looking up at him while giving him head, she saw his attention was on her mouth.
“You should see your lips right now, stretched wide around my dick.” He started thrusting in time with her bobbing head, and increased his speed until the tip of his erection slammed against the back of her throat. “Christ, baby.” He was always in such control of his emotions, so hard and stoic. But for this one second she saw the human that lay behind his coldness. He started breathing heavier, tightened his hold on her hair, and cursed continuously. A deep groan left him, and then she felt the hard jets of his cum move down the back of her throat. He kept his hold on her head, and she had no option but to swallow all of his semen. He pushed her back gently.
Reaching out and wiping off a drop of his cum from the corner of her mouth, he pressed the digit to the seam of her lips. “Open up and suck it clean, Sorcha.”
She opened for him, holding her gaze with his, and suctioned her lips around his finger. This low sound came from him, and then he was standing and hauling her up. He had her in his arms, and then was sitting back on the chair. Sorcha had her legs on either side of him, and the hot length of him pressed against her wet slit.
“Ready to get fucked?” he said against her neck, and then bit her hard enough that she gasped out in pain, but ground herself harder down on him.
God, how could he go again so quickly after just coming?
“Yeah, you’re so fucking ready.”
And then he did jus
t that, fucked her hard and angrily, and let loose all of the frustration of the day.
It was incredible.
****
Two days later
Rian paced the length of the living room, his scotch glass filled with the amber colored liquor, and annoyance over tonight filling him. After getting the phone call about some potential clients backing out of a multi-million dollar deal, he had gotten yet another text from Beatrice basically bitching him out like a jealous girlfriend because she had been notified he was out with another woman. He had ignored that message, the same way he had done when he was out with Sorcha shopping. Beatrice was taking this to a whole new level of insanity. What he did was not her concern, and one of the reasons he had ended things so quickly was because of her possessive attitude toward him. He had never told her he wanted anything more than sex, and at the time she had been all about it, had even propositioned him for it. But after only a few days of seeing her on a near constant nightly basis, she started acting like they were a couple. Sleeping with her and taking her out to dinner a few times did not constitute for more than a fuck relationship.
He scrubbed a hand over his hair and breathed out. He walked over to the window and stared at the city below. The tux he wore felt constricting and suffocating, and he reached up and started to loosen his bowtie. A soft sound from behind him had Rian glancing over his shoulder and staring at Sorcha. She was wearing the black lacy dress he had chosen for her, and to say she looked gorgeous was an understatement. The dress was loose, but formed to her curves well enough that it accented them instead of hiding them. The hairdresser he had called in had put her black locks in an up-do, and the slender column of her neck drew attention to her delicate collarbones and cleavage that just hinted at her sexuality. It was a sexy gown, and she made it look so fucking good.
He turned fully around and tossed back the rest of his drink before setting the glass down on the table. Moving toward her, he forced himself not to get wood, because he could control himself, or at least he tried to when around her.