“There are some paths that once taken, you can never turn back,” he warned her, his voice dark, filled with intent as his eyes raked over the obvious arousal that tightened her nipples and flushed her face.
The look burned her, had the blood singing through her veins, desire pulsing in a drumbeat of desperate arousal in the depths of her pussy and the sensitive, swollen knot of her clit.
“And some paths are sought after, Ian,” she answered him, her voice just as low, throbbing in answer to the unvoiced desire. “Just as others are destined.”
She turned from him, a superhuman effort, thankful for the support of Khalid’s hand at her back as he led her outside. Cold winter air slapped her in the face, but did little to ease the heat burning through her body as he led her quickly to the limo that waited just below the steps to the house.
The chauffeur opened the door quickly, allowing her to slide into the warmth of the interior as Khalid followed at a more leisurely pace. Courtney was aware of him watching her, amusement lingering in his gaze as she breathed in roughly. Leaving the house was the hardest thing she had ever done. She wanted nothing more than to stay, to rub against Ian like a spoiled cat and feel his hands stroking over her body.
“He’ll be waiting when you return.” Khalid’s voice was low, suggestive.
Courtney glanced over him, noticing the casual grace and inborn arrogance that surrounded him like a shield. His thick black hair fell to his shoulders, framing his dark, aristocratic features. High cheekbones, a straight, hawkish nose, sensual, full lips. Those lips were almost candy, she thought. They would tempt most women to unknown daring in an attempt to taste them. Most women. But not her, not without Ian.
“Then perhaps we should let him wait a while,” she suggested with a smile, though careful to keep the width of the seat between them. “I believe he could use the time to consider his options.”
His brow arched mockingly. “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I’ve never seen Ian deny himself before. It’s obvious the strain is wearing on him. Should his control snap, you could be the one paying the price.”
“Or reaping the benefits,” she retorted confidently. “Ian would never hurt me, Prince Mustafa. No matter how tempted he may be.” And she had no doubt he was tempted by now.
He settled more comfortably in his seat, his black eyes filled with laughter as his lips curved into a smile.
“Do you know the beast you are tempting then?” he asked her carefully. “Ian won’t necessarily be a gentle lover. None of us who inhabit The Club truly are. Our tastes run to the extreme, Ms. Mattlaw, are you prepared for that?”
“The Trojans.” She restrained her smile as she turned in her seat, crossing her legs as she watched him carefully. “I’ve very well aware of the sort of lover Ian will be, Khalid.”
His eyes roved over her upper body slowly.
“You’re unaroused now that he is no longer in your presence. It is Ian you hunger for. But if you tempt him to your bed, you will find he will not come alone.” It was a warning, a statement of intent. He intended to be there with them.
“And I look forward to it,” she assured him. “Never doubt that I’m not aware of what Ian will ask of me, or the fact that I don’t desire it myself. But only with Ian, Prince Mustafa. Never without him.”
She had no desire to be touched, held, caressed, without him. It was one of the clues that helped her to unravel the frightening feelings she had known as she entered adulthood. Each time he had visited she had watched him, found ways to learn what she could of him. He made her feel things that for years she had been unable to understand. Brought desires and hungers that had been difficult to make sense of. And the fantasies. Even now, the thought of them made her shift in uncomfortable desire. Such fantasies she had of him.
“He will share you.” He had no intention of covering a truth he evidently believed she was unaware of.
She smiled, a slow curve of her lips meant to assure him that she knew well what was coming.
“When I was twenty-two, I happened to have need of my maid for some reason,” she recounted with a shrug, not clearly remembering now why she needed the young woman. “There were several maids who traveled with me, each resembled me strongly. That night, when I went searching for her, I happened to oversee and hear as Ian instructed her lover in taking her.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. He had mistakenly called the maid by the name Courtney as she listened. Unconsciously revealing his own hunger. “I knew then that only Ian could fulfill what I needed as well. This is my chance, Prince Mustafa. A chance to convince Ian of this as well.”
Even now the memory of that night tormented her.
Spread her ass slowly. Make her anticipate what’s to come… Slow and easy, boy, fuck that ass slow and easy, let her feel every stroke… Suck my dick, Courtney, suck it, baby. Deep…
Had he realized he was whispering her name? Courtney wondered. Had he known his voice throbbed with lust as he whispered her name?
“He could break your heart.” His gaze was suddenly serious, concerned. “You’re in love with him.”
“Of course I am,” she agreed with a soft laugh. “Why else would I be here? Do you think that if it were only sex I required that I would tolerate such a frustrating male temperament? I could find the sex anywhere, Prince Mustafa. The sex, without Ian, leaves little to be desired.”
“I’ll join him,” he told her then, leaning closer, his black eyes suddenly intent, determined. “Do you hear me, girl? When he turns that pretty ass up and spanks it until it burns, I intend to be there. Just as I intend to fuck you. And not only for one night. Ian is perhaps the most sexual, the most intent of any of The Club’s members. He will share you often, and share you well. He will leave you screaming until you’re hoarse, begging until you no longer know why you’re pleading. He will lead you into a pleasure that borders exquisite pain. Are you certain this is something you can endure?”
She rolled her eyes at the concern in his voice. The overprotectiveness she was inspiring in the men around her was becoming stifling.
“Why is everyone so certain I am unaware of what I’m seeking?” she asked him, growing weary of the warnings.
“Perhaps, because of the innocence that shines so sweetly from those dark brown eyes,” he suggested. “You have the appearance of a precocious schoolgirl. A man’s greatest sexual fantasy, his most frightening reality. Pair that with a woman fully grown and one who appears willing to fulfill every fantasy, and you would terrify even the most perverted hedonist. You, my dear, could bring Ian to his knees. And for a man as dominant, as intent on his freedom as I know Ian is, you are a weakness he can ill afford. You arouse protectiveness, in the same depths that you arouse lust. Be careful that your heart isn’t broken.”
“Marguerita, what the hell has happened to Courtney?” Dane was not at home, which was a damned good thing because Ian was ready to blister his ears. What the hell did the other man think he was doing, sending his daughter here? Here? To the same house where the now infamous Trojans met. To the same house filled with a club of depraved, perverted men who wanted nothing more than to devour her, inch by gorgeous, lovely inch.
“Courtney?” Marguerita’s soft voice held equal amounts confusion and amusement. “Why, Ian, I thought she was with you. Has she left your protection?”
His protection? What protection? He was her daddy’s worst nightmare. Didn’t they know that? Since when had Dane and Marguerita lost their ever-lovin’ minds?
“She’s out of control,” he snapped, pacing the foyer as he glanced at the grandfather clock that tick-tocked the time with an irritating cadence. “She slipped into The Club. She’s driving the members crazy. What happened to the sweet little girl I used to know?”
He raked his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he remembering the seventeen year old with knowing eyes and a glimmer of hunger. No, sweet had never described Courtney. He had just wished it had.
“Did you ever know her, Ian?” Marguerita asked then, taking him aback by the seriousness of her voice. “Courtney, despite Dane’s perception of her, is no longer a child. If you can’t deal with this, then perhaps she should return. At least here, those who know her, accept her for who she is.”
He stilled then, his body tensing at the censure in her voice.
“What do you mean by that?”
She sighed heavily. “I owe you a great debt, Ian. Had it not been for you, those years that Dane and I were separated, then I fear I would have lost him forever.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” he gritted out, remembering those years that he had trailed Dane, wondering if his friend would live to see another day. The reported deaths of his lover and child by her family had nearly destroyed Dane. For close to three years until he had sobered up enough to suspect the truth, he had been a madman.
“Courtney is much like her father,” Marguerita said then, her voice a soft warning. “She is just as dedicated and loyal to those she loves as Dane ever was. But much like Dane, and in many ways like myself, Courtney’s needs are different than others.”
He felt the breath halt in his throat. Marguerita couldn’t be saying what he thought she was, it wasn’t possible.
“She’s twenty-four years old. A virgin…”
“She’s twenty-four years old, but I highly doubt she’s still a virgin. And Dane may like to bury his head in the sand where his daughter is concerned, but I do not. Courtney has spent the last two years trying her wings, slipping easily from her pappa’s sight and learning the ways of the world. The two of you too easily discount the woman my daughter has become. And I would not have expected it of you, Ian.”
“And why’s that?” he snapped. “I’ve known her since she was a child.”
“Because you’ve been getting hard for her since she was a teenager,” Marguerita chuckled knowingly. “If you do not want Courtney, then the best thing you can do is send her home. But be careful of her heart, Ian. She is bold and adventurous. But she is still yet a woman. And one who cares deeply.”
The implicit permission he sensed in taking Courtney to his bed staggered her.
“You’re giving her to me?” He blinked at the wall across from him, shock and surprise filling him.
“Giving her to you?” Marguerita mused with a soft laugh. “I would not say this exactly. It is up to Courtney who she belongs to and who she does not. I am merely attempting to warn you of her intentions. I do not wish to see my daughter hurt. If you have no desire for her, then she is better off not within your care.”
“You know what I am,” he growled.
“As you know whose daughter she is.” He could almost see the delicate shrug of the woman’s slender shoulders. “How many women did you and my husband share during the years I was forced to another’s bed? Dane has been quite honest with me concerning that time in his life. Just as he has told me, quite explicitly, how sexual you can become with your females, either alone, or while sharing them. Just as you know well Dane’s preference. We have had a third in our marriage since the first week of our relationship. It is a pleasure we both greatly enjoy. I doubt sincerely my daughter would be scarred by your hungers, my friend.”
His hand tightened on the receiver. Yes, he knew well the lifestyle Dane and Marguerita enjoyed. He hadn’t participated himself, not with them, but he knew Marguerita, as delicate and small as she was, was married to a man who could accept nothing less than the most intense pleasures he could bring to her.
“Dane would kill me.” He grimaced, knowing it wasn’t going to make a difference.
“Dane is no hypocrite, as you well know. He will accept his daughter’s choices, even if it means accepting she is a woman, rather than a child.”
