Bartered (The Encounter #1)(14)

“Unzip your dress… slowly,” he breathed out succinctly. “And when I say, slowly, I want an agonizing, unhurried display of sensuality.”

Hell. Were all men past twenty-five like this? God help me. I had never been commanded in such a fashion.

“Make me want you, ma belle. Make my cock so hard I can’t think of anything else but you.”





Chapter 10


Hugo


Isobel’s little gasps and shallow breathing, which begged for my eyes to note her smooth cleavage, didn’t help at all to save my sanity. Everything she did tonight made me want her. From her smiles to the way she smelled. Or how she looked sexy, and yet, she had that air of innocence about her. She was lethal to my health the moment I laid eyes on her this evening. Even her nervousness only added to my already combustible body.

For a man like me, who wasn’t capable of denying himself anything, it had been a hardship to harness this perfervid need to have her on the spot, which meant the driveway and with all of my security detail waiting patiently on us. However, all I had been able to think about was to devour her lips that reminded me of soft, pink petals and her body that was covered in a sexy gown that accentuated her best features. I had wanted to press her against the side of the car, nestle myself in between the warm crevice of her thighs before I hooked her leg above my hips and plundered into her wet, succulent depths. I wanted her moaning my name, begging me never to stop until I came inside of her and was drained to the last drop.

My passions were known across country, yet I always liked to preserve a little privacy for my mistresses, thus displaying them out in the open wasn’t something I enjoyed. At the end of the day, I was a hot-blooded French man who admired beauty, but most of all, I was a possessive lover. I didn’t like to share what was mine, even if it was for onlookers. Yet the desire to take her against my car, to hell with the rest of the people watching, had dimmed my mood.

I was a man in control, and when I felt this control being threatened by my passions, it became bothersome. I even found it ludicrous. However, my body demanded what it wanted, and as much as I wanted to put a wedge between us and keep her at arm’s length, I knew I had to remedy this need soon or I wouldn’t be responsible for my actions.

I needed her, in any way I could. Period.

With my sour mood and a flighty business deal, it had worsened when I saw her laugh and gaze those mesmerizing eyes towards Julien. My limits were sorely tested.

Julien was one of my closest friends, and though I knew he was a serial flirt and wouldn’t dare take a woman of mine, it didn’t escape my notice that Isobel had a welcoming look on her, like an open invitation for him to take her. A look she hadn’t even dared give me, much to my disapproval.

There was no way Julien and I ever became competitive when it came to women. In the business arena? Sure, most men were. But never with women. There was a silent, honorable understanding between us, one that was respected just as much as we valued ourselves as business partners as well as rivals. Yet, there I was tonight—contemplating if I should rip his throat out just to wipe off that shoddy smile he had for Isobel.

I couldn’t pinpoint the reason why she made me feel so volatile towards my friend. However, I was betting this odd hankering for her would dissipate once I’d had my fill of her.

Six months, day in and day out, she was mine. I was quite certain that, by the end of the fifth month, I would be counting down the hours until we would be free of each other. These affairs always tended to go sour after the third month; subsequently, I knew I shouldn’t bother pondering about such trivial feelings because my time was valuable.

“Ma belle, are you ready?”

She nodded, though her eyes told me she had reservations. In the back recesses of my mind, I had convinced myself she would come out of this bargain a better lover for her next conquest—skillful and knowing the value of seducing your lover. Moreover, when the time came, she would effortlessly surrender herself to me. The contract be damned.

Appearing relaxed, as if I had all the time in the world lounging here as I watched her with intensity, was becoming difficult every second that ticked by. Isobel stood with feminine grace, though evidently lacking in confidence, as she lowered the zipper on the side of her dress. This needed to change. She was a beautiful woman who had no idea the kind of power she possessed in her beauty itself. Her tantalizing eyes alone could hypnotize any human being. Her fire and sass came to life when she was in public, but in the bedroom, she was the total opposite. She would be confident in her own skin, dressed or sans clothing. I would make sure of it.

“Lentement.” (Slowly.) “Don’t take off your dress with abandonment. Let my eyes savor every inch of your skin.”

Her skin was perfectly tanned. The shade wasn’t too dark nor was it pale. It seemed to glow, and when she gradually lowered her dress to reveal her perky breasts, my cock pulsed so badly that instead of pouring myself another glass of whiskey, I simply went straight to the bottle, helping myself until I felt the fiery sting burning in my stomach.

Her rosebuds puckered when she saw how hard I was. I didn’t dare say a damn word, nor did I move because I was too skeptical of whether I could control myself. Our eyes clashed, and I felt her emotions through the few feet separating us. Then, when she bit her lip, there was something familiar about it. It was puzzling to figure out what it was, and at the same time, felt so intensely arousing.