Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(9)
No right at all subjecting a woman like Francesca to my demanding nature.
The warning voice in his head was drowned out by the sound of his pounding heart and low grunts of arousal as he pumped his cock.
I would use her for my pleasure, ravish her sweet mouth. Would she be a little alarmed by my forceful possession? Aroused?
Both?
He groaned at the thought and jerked his arm, stroking more rapidly, every muscle in his body growing hard and rigid.
His cock looked enormous when he shoved the shaft fully into the thick silicone sleeve. He didn’t want to come by his own hand. He wanted something he shouldn’t, however, so his hand would have to suffice.
Even if what he really wanted was to restrain a long-limbed, golden-haired beauty, order her to kneel before him, and pound his cock into her wet, tight mouth . . . even if what he really wanted was to witness the flash of excitement in her eyes when he erupted in climax and gave himself to her.
Orgasm slammed into him, sharp and delicious. He gasped as he watched himself ejaculate into the transparent sleeve, his semen shooting against the sides of the inner suction chamber. After a moment, he clenched his eyes shut and moaned harshly, continuing to come.
Christ, he’d been a fool not to do this earlier in the week. He couldn’t stop climaxing. He’d clearly needed a release. It wasn’t typical for him to ignore his sexual needs, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d remained abstinent this week. It’d been foolish.
It might have led to a loss of control, a prospect he couldn’t abide. People who didn’t attend to their needs ended up making mistakes, growing sloppy and haphazard.
His muscles went slack as the final weakened shudders of orgasm rippled through him. He slid the sheath off his sensitive penis. He wrapped a hand around the naked, slippery staff and stood there, breathing rapidly.
She was a woman like any other.
But perhaps she wasn’t? She’d caught him unawares with her painting. It made him uncomfortable, that knowledge, like a burr under his skin. It made him want to capture her, in return . . . make her pay for looking into his mind somehow, seeing things she shouldn’t see with her unique talent of soulful precision.
He would master this slicing, powerful desire. He turned and stalked to his bathroom to clean up and prepare for his fencing exercise.
Later, as he dressed, he noticed that his cock was still overly sensitive and that his erection hadn’t completely dissipated. Damn.
He’d inform both Francesca and Mrs. Hanson that he wanted privacy this weekend. He’d make a phone call. Clearly, he required an experienced female who knew precisely how to please him in order to vanquish this strange need.
* * *
Lucien hadn’t lied. He was in a feisty mood. Ian retreated under his friend’s aggressive advance with effort, parrying his rapid thrusts, calmly waiting for the extension that would make him vulnerable. He’d fenced regularly with the other man for two years now, and he’d come to understand his style and how his emotions affected his combat. Lucien was an extremely skilled, smart fighter.
But this evening, Lucien was surging with volatile energy, stronger than usual, but unusually incautious as well. Ian waited until he saw triumph in every line of Lucien’s attacking form. He recognized his opponent’s second intention, accurately parrying against the second stroke intended to finish Ian once and for all. Lucien grunted in frustration when Ian riposted and landed a hit.
“You’re a mind reader, damn you,” Lucien muttered, whipping off his mask. Ian, too, removed his mask.
“That is always your excuse. In fact, it’s all quite logical, and you know it.”
“Again,” Lucien challenged, lifting his sword, his gray eyes fierce.
Ian smiled. “Who is she?”
“Who is who?”
Ian gave him a dry glance as he removed his glove. “The woman who has your blood pumping like a randy goat.” It puzzled him, this frustrated quality in Lucien, who was usually so popular with women.
Lucien’s expression tightened, and he looked away. Ian paused in the action of removing his other glove. His brow furrowed in consternation. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lucien said in a quiet, pressured voice.
“Well then?”
Lucien glared at him. “Are Noble employees allowed to see one another?”
“It depends on their positions. It’s very clear-cut in the employment contract. Managers and supervisors are prohibited from seeing inferiors, and will be terminated if it’s discovered they have. It’s highly discouraged for managers to date each other, although not prohibited. It’s made clear in the contract that if any adverse situations arise at work from a relationship outside the office, the grounds for termination are met. I think you know it’s bad form, Lucien. Does she work at Fusion?”
“No.”
“Does she work in a supervisory capacity for Noble?” Ian asked as he stripped off his other glove, plastron, and jacket, leaving only the fitted breeches and undershirt.
“I’m not sure. What if the employment with Noble is . . . unorthodox?”
Ian gave him a sharp glance as he set down his sword and picked up a towel. “Unorthodox . . . as in the manager of a restaurant versus a manager of a department of business?” he asked wryly.