On His Terms (8 page)

There
was clear hesitance in her expression, and in the way she held herself so taut
and unsure. Oh, he knew she was soaking between her thighs, could practically
feel the heat scorch his hand. The pads of his fingers were right up against
the tiny, lacy edge of her panties, and it took a lot of damn willpower not to
just shove the fabric aside and thrust his fingers into her. A groan left him
at that thought. He wouldn’t ask her again, but he would hold his stance,
because he knew she wanted this, too. She was stubborn, and he fucking loved
that about her.

“Touch
me.” She said it so softly that he wasn’t even sure if she had said the words
at all. But when she closed her eyes, fluttered them for a second even, he knew
she was relinquishing herself in this one moment.

Rian
didn’t waste another second. He
pushed the material of her panties aside, that soft, delicate fabric that had
his balls drawing up tight and the promise of an orgasm within his reach. When
he finally touched her pussy, all slick, smooth, hot and wet flesh, he couldn’t
stop himself from slamming his free hand on the wall beside her head. He leaned
down to bury his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, loved that
light floral scent of the perfume she wore, and ran his tongue up the length of
her throat. He worked his fingers on her pussy lips, moaned at the smoothness
of her flesh, and started grinding himself against her. The position was
awkward given his hand in the way, but he was getting enough pressure and
friction that it was doing the job.

“Tell
me you like it.” Of course he didn’t need to hear her say anything, because the
way she was working herself on his hand told him enough that she enjoyed it
just fine. But he was an arrogant bastard, and he got this sick kind of power
knowing that she was doing what he said.

“I
like it,” she said breathlessly, and she let her head fall back against the
wall. He worked his fingers through her folds, moved them up and down her slit,
and then started rubbing her clit back and forth. The
thunk
that sounded as she let her
head fall back against the wall had him feeling even more feverish to have her,
but she started pushing at his chest again.

“Wait,
Rian
.”

Shit,
he loved hearing her say his name, but he wanted her screaming it as he fucked
her, scratched his back as he pounded his dick in and out of her, and wrapped
her legs around his waist.

“I
want you, Sorcha,” he said against her neck. “I want my cock in your cunt. I
want you in my bed, under me, and giving me everything because you can’t stand
this sexual tension between us anymore.” He stroked her faster, harder, and
knew she would come within a matter of seconds if he kept it up. But he slowed
his actions and felt her dig her fingers into his chest. “I want you to sign
that contract because you need me inside of you as much as I need to have my
dick in your pussy.”

“
Rian
.
Oh.
God.”
She started moving her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy on his hand, and
he wanted to keep going, wanted her to come all over his fingers. But he
stopped, took a step back, and watched as she tried to get control of herself.
Fuck, he was hard as steel, and seeing her flushed, panting, and on the verge
of getting off was not helping his condition. He lifted his hand so she could see
how wet his fingers were because of her, and brought them to his mouth. He
sucked the digits clean, and then moved toward her again, grabbed her behind
the head, and slammed his mouth on hers. He forced her to taste herself on him,
and when she moaned and tried to grab him he moved back again.

He
stared at her and then smoothed his hands over his jacket. “Can you please get
yourself straightened out and see my first client in.” He was back to being the
cold man that he was known for, and although he wanted to heat her up, he also
liked seeing the frustration cover her face.

It
was the look she wore right now.

She
pushed away from the wall, adjusted her dress so it wasn’t hiked up her legs,
and narrowed her eyes at him. “You are a sadistic bastard,
Rian
Hartford.” There was a bite in her voice, but she also had the arousal that
still laced it. She breathed out, moved over to her bag she had brought in to
the office, and pulled out the folded contract. Sorcha glance down at the
papers, and then looked back up at him. She seemed hesitant, but then he saw
the acceptance move over her face. “I’m ready to sign it,
Rian
.”

He
stared right in her eyes, felt satisfaction fill him, but didn’t let it show.
If she only knew how much he was looking forward to being with her, she would
probably be pretty fucking scared, especially with the images of what he wanted
do to her filling his head. He leaned against his desk, folded his arms over
his chest, and watched her as she set the papers on the table, grabbed a pen,
and signed her life away to him for a full seven days.

Chapter
Seven

Three weeks later

The
last few weeks consisted of Sorcha rearranging
Rian’s
schedule so that he’d have a full week free … to spend with her. He’d still
have to attend functions outside of the office, but for the next week she would
be at his penthouse in the city. She had told Cora her plans, and although her
friend had been pushing her slightly toward going with
Rian
to help with her financial troubles, and to ease her arousal, there was still that
hesitant look on her friend’s face. Cora wanted what was best for her, but she
was also afraid. Sorcha knew the feeling.

But
now she was to be
Rian’s
for one week, and up until
this moment she had just been going through the motions. It was only seven
days, nothing really in the grand scheme of things, but still, what would she
be required to do? She had to be a fool to sign that damn contract, to not have
her own attorney look it over and give her legal advice.

Oh who are you kidding? You don’t
have an attorney, nor could you afford one.

But
the
contract had been cut and dry
, with nothing in
fine print. The problem was it hadn’t been specific either, just that no harm
would come to her. A week was nothing, nothing at all, or at least that was
what she kept telling herself. Yes, she wanted to be with him, but she had
never thought past him fucking her against the wall in the office. It had been
a fantasy, and not something that she ever thought she’d follow through with.
He pissed her off daily, was arrogant, occasionally egotistical, and a cocky
bastard on more than one occasion. She now sat in the limousine that
Rian
had sent for her, and to say she was nervous was an
understatement.

The
bag she had in her lap held everything she’d need for her stay with him,
although she didn’t have any designer dresses. What she did have would have to
do if he wanted her to go to a party for business with him. The hard grip she
had on the handle dug into the skin of her palm, causing the already-sweaty
flesh to chafe. For the millionth time she asked herself if she was actually
going through with this. Obviously it was a rhetorical question because she was
already in the car, but she was so damn nervous, scared, and also a little
excited.
Rian
lived in a penthouse looking over
Central Park, and living in such wealth was probably going to take some getting
used to. There was also this very strong part of her that knew what she was
agreeing to was wrong on every moral level. But despite the money being
offered, the fact he had already paid her in full, and she had been able to pay
off the mountain of bills she owed, Sorcha knew that she had sold every part of
her to
Rian
.

She
had to spend one full week doing God knew what with a man like
Rian
. The rain right outside of the car was falling
heavily, angrily almost, and it made this whole situation seem ominous. But she
supposed that was fitting. His apartment was about half an hour from the
office, but nearly an hour from her rinky-dink little place, and that was
without heavy traffic or bad weather.

Sorcha
closed her eyes and pictured
Rian
. Just looking at
him she knew his desires ran on the darker side, or at least she had to assume
a prick like him would like rough and hard sex. He also seemed kind of sadistic
in nature, given the fact the last time he had touched her in any form was when
he almost had her coming for him. She could only imagine how he was in bed:
probably all raw and demanding need that matched his tough, stone-cold
exterior. He was controlling, that was for damn sure, and that frightened and
aroused her. Would he try to control her in bed? He said she wouldn’t be
harmed, but that pain might be involved. What did he mean by that? Would he tie
her up, spank her until she begged him to stop? Or maybe Sorcha would enjoy it?
She certainly was getting aroused just thinking about it, even if a part of her
grew disgusted that she could even contemplate liking such things. Sorcha
certainly wasn’t a virgin, and had been with a few men, but they had been safe,
ones that liked bland, vanilla sex. They were nothing like
Rian
.
A man like
Rian
Hartford seemed like he had an animal
lurking inside, a dangerous and wild one, and all it would take was a small
amount of provocation to unleash it on her and everyone else.

“We
are approaching Mr. Hartford’s residence, Miss Case.”

She
straightened when the deep male voice of the driver came through the intercom.
The privacy screen was up between the back and front of the car, and she hadn’t
realized until right now that that small piece of glass separated her from an
entirely different world. It seemed weird to think of it like that, but being
in the back of this limo seemed to make her feel like she was living another
woman’s life. It was a definitely unnerving situation.

It
was only about five more minutes before the driver pulled the vehicle into the
underground parking garage, and then found a spot. For a second after he cut
the engine all she did was sit there and listen to the sound of her heart
starting to beat a fast, hard rhythm. But then one of the back doors was opened
and the driver was standing on the other side holding his hand out to her. He
wore black livery, kept this stiff posture, and was so professional he hadn’t
even made eye contact with her yet. She had refused politely to allow him to
take her bag when he first picked her up, and so she tightened her fingers on
the strap and took his hand with her other one. The garage was still and quiet,
with only the faint overhead and orangey lighting to break up the shadows.

“Mr.
Hartford has instructed me to show you to the elevator that will take you to
his penthouse loft,” the driver said once she was standing beside him. He
turned and started walking toward the lone elevator straight ahead, and she
followed behind. The light
click-clack
of her heels on the pavement was loud and echoed off the concrete walls. The
vehicles in the garage ranged from BMWs to Mercedes, Range Rovers, and
Porsches. There were others mixed in, once that looked sporty and expensive,
and probably cost more than she’d ever make in a lifetime.

Sorcha
watched as the driver pressed the intercom by the gleaming silver elevator, and
then took a step back. This whole set-up was insane, and like nothing she had
ever seen before, but then again she had never seen so much money openly
flaunted, not until she had come to work for
Rian
.
The intercom clicked on, but there was no voice on the other end.

“Miss
Case is here, sir,” the driver said, to
Rian
she
assumed. And then after what felt like long, dragging minutes of silence,
Rian
finally spoke.

“Send
her up.” As if he had conjured the elevator right then and there, the door
opened and she was staring at her reflection. The interior of the elevator was
just as posh as what she would have assumed.
Wood trim, stainless
steel accents, and glass on all three walls.

“Miss
Case,” the driver said and held his arm out, gesturing for her to enter.

She
was scared, but she didn’t know really exactly of what. But Sorcha took those
few steps, entered the small glass, metal, and wood enclosure, and then faced
the driver. He was already walking away from her as the doors slowly shut, and
then she was looking at herself in the polished metal. Her heart beat fast and
wild, nearly ripping right out of her chest from the force of it. Reaching out
and holding onto the bar to steady herself as the elevator ascended, she closed
her eyes, said a prayer that she was doing the right thing, and then slowly
opened them again when she felt the elevator come to a stop. The door opened
slowly, and there standing on the other side was
Rian
.
He wore plain black t-shirt, a pair of distressed looking jeans, and no shoes
or socks. He looked so strange, even more so than when she had seen him
dressed-down at the office that Saturday that her entire world changed.

His
black hair was in a disarray of short strands around his head, and he showed no
emotion on his face. Right then he looked very much the powerful and
indifferent business man she had come to loathe for the last six months, even
when he wore jeans and a tee.