At No Man's Command

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  He was swaying on his feet, struggling to keep himself steady as her mouth hovered so tantalisingly close. ‘Wait. I need to get a condom.’ He fished in his bathrobe pocket and handed it to her. ‘Want to do the honours?’

  Her eyes glinted. ‘With pleasure.’

  James held his breath as she ripped the foil packet with her teeth, spitting the piece to one side, before taking the condom in her hand and rolling it down the length of him. Her fingers smoothed it into place, driving him wild with each stroke and glide of her hand.

  She moved in closer, breathing over him again, ramping up his anticipation, and escalating his excitement to fever pitch. Her tongue touched him, a tiny stab of a touch that even through the layer of latex was electric. She touched him again, a stroking caress that travelled the length of him, from swollen head to thickened base. Every hair on his scalp stood up. The backs of his knees tingled. The base of his spine fizzed.

  Her tongue came back up, circled the top of him before taking him into her warm, wet mouth. He groaned as she sucked on him, slowly at first, but then she increased the pressure and suction until he was in danger of spinning out of control.

  He gripped her by the head, his fingers clutching at handfuls of her hair, but she refused to relinquish her hold on him. She brought him to the brink and then ruthlessly pushed him over. He lost himself in the moment of climax, the waves of intense pleasure rippling through his groin as he surged, pulsed, shuddered. Emptied.

  She gave him a smouldering smile as she crawled back up his body, her naked breasts brushing against his chest, her pelvis warm and tempting as it rubbed against him. She was every erotic fantasy he’d ever had: sultry, sinful and playfully slutty, and yet sensitive and sensual. ‘Want to go another round?’ she said.

  James threaded his hands through her tousled hair. ‘I need another condom first.’

  She slid her hands over his pectoral muscles. ‘I don’t suppose you have another one conveniently placed in your bathrobe pocket?’

  ‘Sadly, no.’

  Her eyes brightened mischievously. ‘Well, this is your lucky day because I’ve got one in mine.’

  James watched as she walked over to the puddle of her silky wrap lying on the floor and retrieved a condom. Every one of her movements tantalised him. Made him hard. The way she bent down, giving him a full view of those long slender legs and that gorgeously neat bottom. The way she came back over to him with her pert breasts with their rosy nipples on glorious show. Her body was a temple of temptation. Long-limbed and slim, curved and toned, her head glossy and sexily tousled, her mouth shiny and moist. Every cell in his body responded to the sight of her. Throbbed and ached to be joined with her.

  She did a repeat performance of tearing the packet with her teeth, taking her time to roll it over him, holding his gaze in a scorching lock that made his body throb and burn anew with lust.

  He took her by the shoulders and tugged her towards him, crushing her mouth beneath his in a fiery kiss. Her mouth opened under his, taking him in, devouring him. Her kiss was hot and urgent, as hot and urgent and desperate as his.

  His hands moved over her body, her breasts, her hips, her feminine folds, touching, teasing, promising more but not giving it until she was making throaty little pleas. He was as ruthless with her as she had been with him. Ramping up her desire, making her beg for the release she craved.

  ‘Now, oh, for God’s sake, now,’ she said against his mouth.

  ‘Not yet.’ He softly bit her lower lip. ‘Don’t be so impatient.’

  She bit him back, harder, making his knees buckle. ‘I want you inside me.’

  He walked her, thigh to thigh, to the nearest wall, his mouth working its way around hers in teasing little nips and nudges. ‘What’s the big hurry?’

  She clutched at his buttocks, pulling him closer. He could smell her salty and musky fragrance, the alluring heat of feminine arousal that made his need of her all the more overwhelming. He slipped a finger inside her, applying the lightest friction to her swollen need, swallowing her gasp as he captured her mouth beneath his. Her tongue moved with his in a combative dance, an exciting fast-paced tango of lust and longing and battle for control.

  Holding her in his arms was like holding a powder keg and a match. She was the most exciting, thrilling lover he had ever had. He had never wanted someone as much as he wanted her. It was a driving need that dominated every waking moment. It was like being under a spell, a magical, sensual spell that was inescapable. Her flirtatious behaviour infuriated and inflamed him in equal measure. She was everything he avoided in a partner and yet she was everything he found so breathtakingly exciting.

  She grabbed at his hair, her mouth breathing hot sexy fumes of lust into his. ‘I want you. Now.’

  James turned her so her back was against him, her hands splayed on the wall in front of her. He didn’t have to nudge her thighs apart. She had already anticipated his intention. She gave a sexy little groan and wriggled her bottom against his erection, goading him on. It was an invitation he could not resist. He entered her in a deep, slick thrust, pleasure shooting through him like an electrifying pulse as her tight little body gripped him. He rocked against her, breathing in the fragrance of her hair that was brushing against his face. She made panting little noises, gasping noises, whimpering-with-pleasure noises, which made him drive all the harder and faster.

  He gripped her by the hips, clenching his jaw to keep himself from coming too soon. She rose up on tiptoe, searching for more direct friction. He brought his hand around to stroke her with his fingers, the swollen nub slick and damp with moisture. He felt the contractions of her orgasm, each powerful spasm in time with her cries of ecstasy.

  He drove himself over the edge, breathing hard, flying high in a whirlpool of sensations that made his body shudder all over with reaction.

  He kept her pinned to the wall even though his erection was subsiding. Her hair tickled his cheek; the scent of her teased his nostrils. He lifted her hair out of the way and kissed the back of her neck in a series of soft-as-air kisses, delighting in the way she shivered under his touch. ‘You like that?’ he asked.

  ‘Mmm...’ She gave a dreamy-sounding sigh.

  He kissed the cup of her shoulder, using his tongue to tease her soft skin. She made another purring sound of pleasure as he worked his way up the side of her neck, lingering at the spot just below her ear. He wondered if she was as responsive with other men. The thought was jarring. The image of her with other lovers stirred an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Jealousy wasn’t something he had felt before. None of his partners had given him any reason to be jealous. He knew they’d had previous lovers; it was unfair in this day and age to expect anything else.

  How many men had Aiesha been with?

  Did it matter?

  James stepped back and dealt with the condom, trying to get his double standard back in the Dark Ages where it belonged. It was none of his business how much experience she had. It wasn’t as if their relationship was going to continue beyond a couple of weeks. How could it? She resented the world he came from. She didn’t even like him. She saw him as a trophy to collect, a prize to show off. A box to tick. She might enjoy having sex with him, but that was all she wanted from him.

  And it was all he wanted from her...wasn’t it?

  She picked up her wrap from the floor and slipped it over her shoulders, her grey gaze connecting with his. ‘There haven’t been as many as you think.’

  James tied his own robe before he answered. ‘How many what?’

  ‘Men. Lovers.’ She tied the ribbons of her wrap around her waist. ‘The press make me seem like a tart. But it’s not like I’m out there every night getting it on with someone. You’re my first this year.’

  He gave her a look. ‘Not bad considering it’s the tenth of January.’

  Her lips tilte
d in a little smile. ‘You hungry?’

  ‘Are we talking about breakfast?’

  She sashayed over to him, running her fingertips down the length of his forearm. ‘Are you an early riser?’

  James was rising now and she only had to move an inch closer to feel it. ‘When I need to be. What about you?’

  That smouldering look was back in her eyes, making his spine tingle at the base. ‘Oh, I’m very flexible.’ She untied his bathrobe and slid her hand down his abdomen in a slow caress. ‘I take each day as it comes.’

  He sucked in a breath as she took hold of him. The glint in her eyes drove him wild. Everything about her drove him wild. The way she ran the tip of her tongue over her lush mouth nearly sent him over the edge. Her sexily tousled hair tickled his chest as she pressed herself close. Her slender hips rubbed against his pelvis, inciting him, arousing him all over again. He placed his hands on her bottom and brought her even closer. ‘Just as well this snow is on the melt because at this rate I’m going to run out of condoms,’ he said.

  She trailed a fingertip along his stubbled jaw and then over his lower lip, making every nerve twitch and dance. ‘In future you’ll know to be better prepared then, won’t you?’

  In future...

  What future?

  This couldn’t go on for ever. How could it? Aiesha didn’t develop bonds with people, not unless they served her interests. How could he be sure she wanted to be with him, other than for the prestige and protection his name and money provided? It would always play at the back of his mind. Did she care about him or what he could give her?

  James slid his hands up her arms to hold her by the shoulders. ‘You do realise this thing we have going isn’t going to continue beyond the end of the month, don’t you?’

  Her mouth curved upwards, her grey eyes glinting mockingly. ‘But of course. You’re paying me to play a role.’ Her fingers tiptoed up his chest. ‘Am I giving good service so far?’

  He dropped his hands and stepped away from her. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Don’t what?’ Her look was all beguiling innocence. ‘Say it as it is? Come on, James. Don’t be such a prude. I’m your paid mistress. Don’t all rich posh guys have one? Your father certainly does. She even looks a bit like me, don’t you think?’

  James clenched his jaw. He knew she was deliberately baiting him. It was her favourite pastime. But it annoyed him that she seemed not to be the least worried or conflicted by their situation. She wanted him and she’d got him. The trap had been set on day one and, like a fool, he had stepped into it. Now she was playing the hired hooker to make him squirm with guilt. She was well aware of how much he hated the thought of being compared to his father, of being tarred with the same cheap, dirty little brush. She was well aware of it and was maximising it for...for what? More money? Revenge? Just for the sheer heck of it? Didn’t her behaviour prove how little she cared for him as a person? She was in it for what she could get and was shamelessly brazen about it.

  ‘You are currently my fiancée,’ he said. ‘That’s what the press thinks and I want them to continue to think it until such time as I inform them otherwise. Understood?’

  She gave him a mercurial smile. ‘Then you’d better get a wriggle on and buy me a big, expensive ring or no one will believe you.’

  James muttered an expletive under his breath. ‘Be ready by lunchtime. If we can’t drive out I’ll hire a helicopter to fly us out.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  AIESHA DECIDED JAMES’S anger was a good thing. He kept his distance on the trip over to Paris, barely speaking a word to her, keeping himself busy with his laptop, as if they were two strangers travelling together. But that was fine by her as she needed time to regroup. It was becoming confusing to be playing one role while feeling something else. Feeling was something she wasn’t used to doing. Feeling was dangerous. Attachment was dangerous. Bonding was dangerous. She could be physical with someone without emotional engagement.

  Of course she could.

  Men did it all the time. Sex was a physical need like any other. She was not going to be stupid and fall in love. Not with James. Not with the one man who would never love her back. Why would he? She had all but destroyed his precious family. She knew he wasn’t close to his father, but a relationship with her was only going to make his relationship with him so much worse.

  His mother, Louise, might accept her but even that was stretching a dream way too far. The world Aiesha came from was so disparate, so foreign, so totally alien it was as if she had come from another universe. How could the chasm ever be breached? Everyone would look down on her, watching for her to make a slip-up. To say something she shouldn’t say. To wear something not quite appropriate. To bring more shame and disgrace on the Challender name.

  It was stupid to think of a future with James. He would never allow himself to love someone so unsuitable. She was a lounge singer from Sin City. Fairy-tale endings didn’t happen to girls like her.

  And the sooner she accepted it the better.

  The press didn’t show up until they arrived at the boutique hotel, a short walking distance from the Eiffel Tower. James took Aiesha’s hand and led her through the foyer, answering in fluent French the barrage of questions from the crush of journalists and photographers. From her limited grasp of the language, Aiesha was able to pick up one or two phrases that communicated James’s delight at their engagement and how he was looking forward to their wedding at some point during the year. He even managed to get her to the private lift to the penthouse floor without losing his urbane smile.

  But once the doors closed he dropped his arm from around her waist and let out a stiff curse. ‘This is ridiculous. How long are they going to hound us like this? It’s not as if we’re celebrities. Why are they so interested in us?’

  Aiesha leaned against the waist-height brass rail on the wall of the lift. ‘You’re rich. You’re handsome. People want to know what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.’

  He pushed a hand through his hair, his frown formidably dark. Aiesha knew he hated all the press attention because it made him appear like his father, holing up in a hotel with his latest lover. James was so private about his life it would torture him to have his every move anticipated and speculated and commented on. Her presence in his life was only intensifying that speculation. Was that why he was so brooding and prickly now they were back in the spotlight? At Lochbannon he could temporarily forget about the rest of the world, but now the world was after him for an exclusive on his engagement and wedding plans. No wonder he was looking antsy and conflicted. Which made her all the more determined to show she wasn’t...even though she was. Desperately.

  ‘I’ve organised an outfit for you to wear for the dinner tomorrow night and one for this evening,’ he said into the silence. ‘I’ve also arranged for a jeweller to bring some samples of rings to our room.’ He pushed his sleeve back to glance at his watch with a preoccupied frown. ‘He should be here in a couple of hours.’

  ‘So...’ Aiesha sent him a little smile. ‘What will we do in the meantime?’

  His mouth was pinched tight, although she could see the way his gaze slipped to the swell of her breasts and back again. ‘Do you ever think of anything else but sex?’

  She gave him an arch look. ‘That’s what you’re paying me for, isn’t it?’

  He snatched her wrist as the lift doors pinged open, marching her out like a captor with a prisoner. ‘I’m a little tired of you making those cheap little digs. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t sent that first tweet, remember?’ He jerked his head to indicate for her to enter the penthouse.

  ‘Aren’t you going to carry me over the threshold?’

  ‘Get inside.’

  She raised her chin. ‘I want my own room.’

  ‘I want you with me.’

  ‘Wh
at if I don’t want to be with you?’

  A nerve twitched in his jaw, his eyes blue-black. ‘This is your room. In here. With me. End of discussion.’

  Aiesha fought her agitation by redirecting it into anger. She stabbed a finger at his chest, leaning her whole weight into it, but even so he didn’t move a millimetre. She felt like a wispy blade of grass trying to push over a tree trunk. ‘You do not tell me where I will sleep. Get it?’

  He plucked her hand off his chest, holding it so firmly her fingers overlapped each other. He tugged her against him, his eyes holding hers in a tense little lock. ‘I know what you’re up to, Aiesha. You want me to lose my head. To lose my temper and act like a moron, like you believe all men to be. But it won’t work. Push and defy me all you want. I’m not going to let you win. You will stay with me all night, no matter what.’

  He stepped back from her, his expression enviably cool and controlled. ‘I’m going to meet with my client. By the time I get back, the jeweller and the clothes will be here. Don’t leave the hotel until I get back. The press are still out there.’

  Aiesha threw him a mutinous glare. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

  He opened the door, pausing to look back at her before he left. ‘I just did.’

  * * *

  Aiesha waited until she saw James leave the front of the hotel in a cab before she picked up her coat and purse. She was not having him tell her what she could or couldn’t do. She needed fresh air and she was going to go out and get some. He had no right to order her about as if she had no will of her own.

  No man had that right.

  She slipped out of a side door and managed to escape the attention of the press because a minor member of European royalty arrived and the cameras switched their focus on them instead.