On His Terms Read online

  “Sorcha, you look stunning.” He stopped in front of her and lowered his gaze down the length of her body. When he looked back at her face he saw her cheeks were red. “I’ve embarrassed you.”

  She glanced down and nodded. “Yeah, a little bit, I guess.”

  “Why?” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her head up so she had to look at his face.

  “Why do you embarrass me?” she asked softly.

  He nodded.

  “Because I’ve never been dolled up like this before, worn clothes that cost more than my salary, and have a man look at me the way you are looking at me.”

  He stared into her light amber colored eyes, and the need to kiss her rose up like a violent monster inside of him. He leaned down and kissed her softly, letting her know that he could be a gentleman when the time called for it. For the last couple of days he had been thinking about what she had said in the car after he had taken her into the city for shopping. But he admitted to himself that these last few days had changed something inside of him concerning her. He looked at her, felt this warmth move in his veins, and hated that he hadn’t been strong enough to keep this at a professional level, well, as professional as the contract allowed. He hadn’t wanted any emotional attachment, and despite knowing that he was letting himself get more involved with her than what he had originally planned, Rian also couldn’t deny that he’d felt something for her before she signed this agreement.

  “What was that for?” she asked softly when he pulled away from her.

  “Because I wanted to kiss you, Sorcha, and because you look gorgeous.” He cupped her face in his hands. Her skin was luminescent, and the make-up she wore wasn’t gaudy or obvious, but natural and elegant. “I have something for you.” He turned away and walked over to the small table by the front door. She’d think he was insane for what he was about to give her, and for what he was starting to feel. It was like things were moving so fucking fast, but he also knew that these feelings were genuine—crazy and not what he had ever felt before—but real. It was something he didn’t want to ignore, something he wanted to explore, but the truth was it also scared him. Rian didn’t get frightened about anything. He was the one that put fear in others.

  He grabbed the small velvet box out of the drawer and faced her.

  “What’s that?” She glanced down at the box and then started twisting her fingers together.

  He didn’t answer, just moved toward her and opened the box. Her eyes widened as she looked at what was inside. “It’s nothing big or extravagant, but I saw it and thought it would look lovely on you.” He took the thin tennis bracelet out and set the box down. It was a delicate little platinum chain with four pearls spaced out in intervals, diamonds between those, and a small little sparrow hanging from the clasp. “Let me put this on you.” He glanced up at her with only his eyes, and when she lifted her arm, he noticed her hand shook. He placed it on her wrist, and then grabbed the matching pearl and diamond earrings out of the box. She put those on, and when she was finished he looked at her and felt this longing inside of him. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around so she could see herself in the mirror that hung on the wall.

  She placed her fingertips on the earrings and then looked down at the bracelet. “They are beautiful, but why did you get them for me?” She turned and stared up at him.

  “Because I saw them and knew I wanted you to wear them. Although they are beautiful, you’re far more gorgeous.”

  “Wow, great pick-up line.” She smiled, and although he had been dead serious in saying that, he also couldn’t help but feel this easiness with her.

  How fucking wild that all it took was this short time alone with her for him to realize that all along he had been fighting his attraction to more than just her body. He liked her personality, loved that she played hardball with him, too, and he felt like she complemented him well. She was his opposite in every way, the kind of person he tended to stay away from because they clashed with his already overbearing personality. But Sorcha made him feel something more than just the anger and annoyance of butting heads with another person. He didn’t bother telling her it wasn’t a pick-up line, because it wouldn’t have mattered. She probably wouldn’t have believed him. He stared at her face, wanting to kiss her again.

  “Sir, the car is ready to take you to the party,” Theodore said from behind him.

  “Thank you. We’ll be down in a moment,” Rian said but kept his focus on Sorcha.

  “You’re looking at me funny,” she said with this slight tremor in her voice

  Yeah, she was feeling this connection, too, and for the first time in Rian’s life he really didn’t want his time with her to end. It seemed her smart mouth, attitude, and overall personality of not taking his shit had burst through the tough exterior of the wall he had created around his heart. He smiled, not responding to her statement, because he knew he was looking at her funny. He had just realized that he was falling for this woman, and that was messing with his perfectly placed and ordered life.

  ****

  Sorcha smoothed her hands down her thighs and breathed out slowly through her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so damn nervous about tonight. It was just a dinner party, nothing really “work” related, although she knew all of these types of gatherings were about networking with other wealthy people. She glanced over at Rian, but he was preoccupied with messaging on his phone. Was he speaking with someone from work, or his ex? He had told her his ex had contacted him, but he hadn’t gone into specifics, not that she would have wanted him to anyway. But Sorcha wanted to be prepared if a shit storm was coming her way. She had seen the tantrums some of these rich bitches threw when they didn’t get their way. Hell, a few of them had called the office furious at Rian for one reason or another. Sorcha might hold her own, but that didn’t mean she wanted to cause a scene. She turned back toward the passenger window and stared out at the scenery passing her by. They were moving out of the city and more into the less populated part of the area. It was strange to see the skyscrapers leaving and these massive, elegant houses flashing by the limo.

  When she heard him breathe out she looked at him again. “Everything okay?”

  He waved off her statement and exhaled loudly, but she still didn’t look at him again. Instead she lifted her hand and ran her fingers over the smooth, circular pearl of one of her earrings, thinking about the real man that she was starting to really care for.

  “I’m sorry, Sorcha. I didn’t mean to brush you off.”

  She stared at him, surprised that he had actually apologized.

  “It’s just one fucking thing after another.” He smiled, but it was totally forced. “Do you accept my apology?”

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled, and her heart melted right then and there when he said those words. He was being sincere, and she appreciated it. “Yeah, I do.”

  He nodded, as if pleased she believed him. “You’re nervous.” He didn’t state it as a question.

  “I am, but then again it’s pretty scary going to something like this.”

  “It’s just a dinner party.”

  “To you, maybe. To me it’s a bunch of millionaires smoking cigars and drinking thirty year old cognac.”

  He started chuckling. “It’s rather boring, to be honest. The women are in competition on who is wearing the most expensive jewelry and who has the best one of a kind dress.” He grinned. “And the men sit around pretending they aren’t in competition, too, and smoking cigars as they trade stories of the stock market and how much they’ve made so far this year.”

  She was the one to start chuckling now. “Sounds really boring. You mean no one gets drunk and starts dirty dancing on the floor?”

  “That sounds like a dinner party I’d much rather go to.” He smiled, and before she knew what was happening he had a hand on her thigh and was leaning in close to her face. “You know, you’re too good for me.” He was being serious, but she had to tease him.
r />   “I know.” She grinned and saw his mouth spread into a smile, too.

  He pressed his lips to hers only seconds later, speared his tongue into her mouth, and had her on fire instantly. Rian moved his mouth slowly yet thoroughly against hers at the same time he slipped her dress up her legs and moved his hand between her thighs.

  “How fast do you think I can get you off, baby?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “I think you’re talented enough to make quick work.” She grinned against his lips and then gasped when he pressed his hand to her pussy. The groan that came from him was deep, and she swore she felt the vibrations all the way through her.

  “You did without the panties, Sorcha?” He started rubbing her flesh back and forth, swifter with each passing second, and she knew she’d come so soon that he’d keep his word. “You’re a cock-tease, baby. You knew I was going to touch you, and you purposefully left the panties off.” He was touching her faster, harder, and she grew wetter.

  Letting her head fall back on the seat, she closed her eyes. “I like teasing your cock.”

  He applied pressure to her clit, and she gasped out. Before she knew what was happening he had her hauled up on his lap, with her legs on either side of him and resting on the seat. He took hold of the back of her neck in his hand and yanked her forward to claim her mouth. With his other hand he moved it between their bodies, and when she heard his zipper being pulled down her heart rate increased. He gathered her dress and pulled it above her ass, shifted so he could push his pants down to his ankles and get his cock out, and then placed her flushed down on him again. Another sound left her when he grabbed her hips and pressed her down hard, making her feel his stiff cock against her slicked folds.

  “You’re wet, I’m hard, and it would be so easy to fuck you right now.”

  She nodded, and kissed him, ran her tongue on his lips, and loved that the sting of pain on her hips was because he couldn’t control his hold on her. He grabbed her bare ass, squeezed her flesh, and started rocking her back and forth on him. He ran his tongue now along her lips, and a little cry left her. Rian tasted so good, so addictive. Her clit grew engorged with the need to come. Sorcha started rocking back and forth, faster and harder, and letting the pleasure fill her.

  “That’s it, baby. Ride that sweet little cunt on me. Make yourself come. Use me.” His voice cracked at the end, and his erotic words had her gasping against his mouth. She moved even faster, trying to find that explosive pleasure by using him. But then he was using her, too, in this moment, and that was evident by the wetness that coated the tip of his dick. He still had his hands on her ass, pulling her forward and pushing her back on his shaft, over and over again.

  She opened her mouth on a gasp as a particularly intense contraction rippled through her body. It felt so good that the world around her dimmed in comparison. He took that as an invitation and slid his tongue inside of her mouth, moving it against hers and mimicking what she desperately wanted him to be doing between her thighs right now. Sorcha didn’t care that there was a driver only separated from them by thin glass, and didn’t care that in probably moments they would be arriving at the party.

  “I want you to come on me, Sorcha, all over me. I want to feel your body shake as you lose control.”

  Oh. God. The breath left her at his words. He leaned in and resumed kissing her, slid his tongue along hers, and fucked her mouth. She felt one of his hands cup her breast through the robe. His groan of satisfaction had her pleasure heightening, and she moved back and forth with more vigor. She let head fall back and closed her eyes. Her orgasm washed through, exploded inside of her body, and took everything out of her. They were dry humping, and yet she had gotten off, like she was a teenager in the back of her boyfriend’s car. She was aware of the sounds coming from her, high-pitched mewling noises that should have embarrassed her, but ones she was helpless to stop.

  When the orgasm finally left her she sagged forward. Exhaustion suddenly slammed into her, and she breathed out hard and fast. God, who would have known having an orgasm like that without actually having sex could be so pleasurable? She had touched herself, of course, but never had she come like she had being with Rian, and certainly not while just grinding herself on him.

  The car suddenly slowed, and she got off of Rian, his chuckling filling her head. Sorcha adjusted her dress, and then glanced at Rian and watched as he put his still hard dick in his pants. She was about to tell him that she could relieve him, because surely walking around with a stiffie and blue balls was uncomfortable, but before she could say anything the back door was opened and the driver stood there with his hand out for her to take.

  ****

  “Miss Case, Mr. Hartford,” the driver said.

  With one last glance at Rian, and a wink from him, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but got out of the car. She was wet between her thighs from her arousal, and hated the feeling of discomfort as she moved forward. Rian got out after her, adjusted his jacket and pants, and held out his arm for her. She slipped hers into the crook of his and glanced at the house. Well, it was more than a house. It was a mansion really, and with the lights, fancy cars, and the elegantly dressed people going inside, she felt like royalty at that moment.

  They went inside where they were surrounded by crystal chandeliers, a smoke-filled atmosphere smelling of sweetness, and of flowing champagne. Waiters dressed in black and white outfits handed them glasses filed with bubbly yellow liquid. Others walked by with silver trays filled with small, dainty looking hors d’oeuvre, the staff’s backs stiff, and their expressions blank.

  For the next twenty minutes they mingled. A few men came up and started speaking with Rian, but they were using jargon she was unfamiliar with, and she felt like she was listening to another language. And then when Rian led them into this grand ballroom, the classical music started playing as if on cue. He spun her in his arms, and this little sound of surprise left her. The music was soft, hauntingly beautiful, and she couldn’t help but get swept up in it all.

  “Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

  She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes, but flattery will get you everywhere, so keep it up.” She felt the vibrations from his chest as he chuckled.

  “Sorcha.” He said her name softly, and she pulled back to look at him.

  The way he had said her name, soft and intimately, had sounded so different from any other time before. And then the way he was staring at her, like he wanted to say something to her, had her feeling her throat close. Was she seeing his emotions for her right now? He was usually so closed off, but right now he looked almost vulnerable. He cupped her face, and she held her breath. He smoothed his thumb along her cheek. She felt her skin pucker with gooseflesh, and leaned into him closer.

  “Sorcha.” He said her name as if he was pained. The feeling of his warm breath moving along hers had her moaning softly. “I want you, but it is so much more than sex.”

  Her breath caught, and she exhaled slowly again. “Me, too—”

  “Rian,” an older gentleman said behind him, breaking up this moment they were having.

  Rian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and then shocked her by kissing her hard and possessively right in front of everyone. He turned them around so they were facing the man that had spoken. He had gray, thinning hair, wore wire-rimmed glasses, and his eyes were these thin little black beads. He stopped in front of them, two women—twins—one on each side of him dressed in nothing more than skimpy little gowns. Their cleavage was all but bursting from the tops of their dresses, and their make-up was caked on. They reeked of money, that or they reeked of wanting money, and knew how to play it well.

  “Franklin, I didn’t expect you back from Europe until later this month,” Rian said with a bored tone in his voice.

  “Yes, well things came up, and I have been meaning to call you.”

  “Have you?” Rian asked, but he didn’t seem like he cared. “You mean you’ve b
een meaning to call me about the paperwork that you should have signed weeks ago, and how you haven’t been returning my calls?”

  “Rian, I told my secretary to forward my messages to you. She didn’t?”

  Rian didn’t respond, just continued to stare at this man and drink his champagne.

  “I’ll have her fired immediately for her incompetence.” The older man was starting to sweat, and the nervousness in him was very clear.

  Okay, this seemed like a tense conversation, and the sound of Rian’s annoyance was becoming even clearer with each passing second. This Franklin man was clearly up Shit Creek without a paddle.

  “I’m going to find the restroom,” Sorcha said to Rian, and when he looked like he was about to argue she leaned in and kissed him softly. He got this dark, aroused look on his face. Sorcha smiled, and moved away before he could stop her. She didn’t need to use the restroom, and mainly wanted to gawk at the house, but Rian clearly needed to speak with that man and Sorcha didn’t want to stand there and feel any more uncomfortable.

  For the next fifteen minutes she walked around, stopped to look at the paintings that hung on the walls, the vases that had their own spotlights on them, and even the glass cabinets that showcased what she knew had to be Fabergé eggs.

  “They’re beautiful, are they not?”

  The thickly accented voice came from behind her. She turned and stared up at a darkly handsome man. His black hair was slicked back, his dark suit and shirt, tie, and even his eyes matched the whole “Tall, Dark, and Handsome” thing he had going on.

  “Excuse me?”

  He pointed to the case. “My eggs, they are beautiful, right?”

  She looked at the case again and nodded. “Yes, they are. Breathtaking even.” He moved closer, and the scent of his cologne came through like a warm blanket. He lifted his hand, and it was so close to her that she felt the heat from his body spear through her.

  “These are original handmade creations by Peter Carl Fabergé.” He started explaining each of them to her, and she realized his accent was Russian. “These were in my family for the last three generations, and I hold them very dear. They are one of my most prized possessions.”