Lora Leigh - Shameless

“And who decided that?” she asked him with an arched brow. “You know, Ian, I really prefer to make my own choices, rather than having them made for me. Perhaps you should remember that before you work yourself into a fury.”

Patient, amused. Her voice stroked his senses as her accent seemed to give the tone an almost lilting quality. It was driving him mad. How would she sound screaming his name? Begging for his dick?

“Stay out of The Club.” He refused to argue with her, to tempt his self-control further. “It’s no place for you.”

“Shove your club, Ian.” The haughty tone and cool mocking expression had his blood boiling. “I don’t need it to entertain myself.”

“Your entertainment?” He felt like pulling at his own hair. What the hell was he supposed to do with this woman? “And exactly what kind of entertainment are you looking for, you little minx? Are you out to get fucked? Or just out to see how crazy you can make me?”

Her lashes drifted over her eyes, giving her a sleepy, lust-filled look that had his balls tightening as she strolled closer. Stopping within a breath of him, she stared up at him, her little pink tongue running slowly over lips, making his mouth water.

“How crazy could I make you, Ian?” she asked him then, her breathing escalating, her hard nipples nearly brushing his chest. Damn, he wanted to feel them—in his mouth, between his fingers, burning into his flesh.

Oh, she could make him crazy, he thought silently. Too crazy.

“Crazy enough to call your father and inform him it’s time you headed home,” he growled, nearly biting his own tongue.

She laughed. A low, devilish sound that sent flames licking over his body.

“Poor Ian, you must truly be desperate to threaten me with Daddy.” Knowledge, as ancient as sin itself, echoed in her voice. “I haven’t been under Daddy’s thumb for many years. Your only chance is throwing me out, period. Perhaps finding a patron wouldn’t be so hard under such circumstances.”

“Are you so desperate for a sugar daddy, Courtney?” he snarled. “Doesn’t Dane provide you with enough?”

A smile curved her lips. “Daddy can’t get me into your bed, Ian, otherwise I would have tried that route already. I refuse to lie about the reason I’m here any longer.” She laid her hand against his chest. He watched her breath catch, the way she swallowed tightly as pleasure tore through him. From such a small touch. How would he survive feeling her, bare flesh to bare flesh, burning beneath him?

“I won’t take you to my bed, Courtney.” He hated the words that slipped past his lips, hated the fact that he couldn’t allow himself to possess her.

She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Then another will. Perhaps the nice Middle Eastern gentleman. He seemed to have promise…”

Khalid. Ian fought back his instinctive response, and it wasn’t anger.

He gripped her arm when she would have slipped past him.

“Don’t make decisions you’ll regret, little girl,” he warned her harshly. “You’re too young to know or to understand what he’ll ask of you. And it’s nothing compared to what I would demand.”

“Or perhaps, nothing compared to what I would demand,” she said then, causing his blood pressure to escalate, his cock to harden to impossible degrees. He felt as though the thickening shaft would rupture from the hunger filling it. “But—” She shrugged again as she moved away from him. “As you have decided to deny yourself as well as me, I will leave you in peace, Ian. But I refuse to lay here and masturbate to sate the needs. I will see what other entertainment your fair city has to offer me.”

She swept from the room as he turned slowly, watching the little skirt swish around her upper thighs, nearly baring her ass as she left the room. His eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists, leashing the almost violent response rising inside him.

She was pushing him. Pushing him too far, straining what little control he had left.

What the hell was it about her? Why did she tempt a part of him that no other woman had ever touched, even Kimberly? Why did she make him hunger for things that he couldn’t even put a name to? And why the fuck was he letting her do it?

She was shaking inside. She was nearly shaking on the outside.

Courtney could feel the nervous energy racing through her body, pulsing nearly as furiously as the arousal flaming across her nerve endings. Her pussy felt swollen, intensely sensitive, her clit rasping against the silk of her thong as she walked sedately down the stairs and headed for the front door.

Not that she had any true plans for the night. She would allow Ian’s chauffeur to drive her to a few clubs, perhaps dance a few hours as she drowned her sorrows and her arousal in a few stiff drinks, since Ian wasn’t volunteering his stiff cock.

And how stiff it looked beneath his slacks. Thick and long, mouthwateringly tempting. She wanted nothing more than to go to her knees and release the engorged flesh to her hungry mouth. She could almost feel it, so hard and thick her lips would feel bruised, so hot she would feel blistered. And she wanted it. Longed for it.

As she reached the foyer, she was aware of Ian moving down the steps behind her, almost stalking her as though she were his prey. A shiver worked up her spine, part trepidation, part satisfaction. Finally, his reserve was faltering. If she had known that visiting The Club would bring such a reaction, she would have done so the first week.

The ringing of the doorbell had her pausing as she shrugged on the short, thin leather jacket that matched the outfit she wore. She watched, curious, as the house butler, Jason, moved from the sitting room, casting her a cool look as he gripped the doorknob and opened the double doors.

Courtney felt the immediate tension that filled the room as Ian stepped from the stairs. She was between them, the man she longed for, and the mysterious, devilishly handsome Saudi.

“Well, my luck knows no bounds this night.” The stranger stepped into the foyer, tall, nearly as tall as Ian’s six feet three inches, his black eyes blazing with lust.

Where it had done little to affect her earlier, that look, when paired with the flames she could feel licking over her flesh from Ian’s gaze…she nearly lost the strength in her knees. Dear heaven, they had yet to even touch her, but she could feel the need to, the lust racing around them.

“Prince Khalid el Hamid Mustafa,” the butler announced his presence, his voice an irritating buzz to her side.

Courtney turned, surrounded by testosterone, until her gaze met Ian’s. What she saw there was nearly more than she could bear without begging for his touch. She turned back quickly, her lips curving into a smile as she met the Saudi’s wicked look.

“Khalid, you weren’t invited up here,” Ian sniped rudely as the butler closed the doors behind the other man.

“I need an invitation?” Khalid lifted a brow curiously, his gaze trained on her. “I wasn’t aware of that. And you haven’t introduced me to your lovely guest, Ian.”

Oh, she could just imagine the anger rising inside Ian now. She flicked a glance his way, seeing the stiff set of his shoulders, the flat line of his mouth. But his eyes were burning, not with anger, but with arousal.

“Courtney Marguerita Mattlaw. Prince Khalid el Hamid Mustafa,” he introduced them, with no pretense to civility.

“A most beautiful name, for a most beautiful young woman,” the Prince murmured as he accepted her hand, bending his head gracefully to place a dark kiss on the sensitive flesh of her wrist. “And a most bold young woman as well.”

She allowed her expression to smooth to one of amused patience as she saw the laughter in his gaze, the quick, hidden glance behind her before those dark eyes seemed to flash a hidden message her way. A co-conspirator? It appeared she might well need the help.