On His Terms(36)

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.