It was well after midnight before Charlie left. After James’ mocking statement and his declaration that he was going to bed to let them discuss him in peace, Ella broke out the wine. Some nights, there was nothing you could do but get a shade tipsy and remember all the reasons why you didn’t want a man in your life. Charlie was eager to go along with her. Evidently all that smooth male muscle and blatant sexuality had been too much for her to deal with at one time as well.
Finally, her friend weaved her way to the limo waiting on her, thanked her aging driver nicely as he opened the door for her, and crawled into the vehicle. Ella herself felt she was walking reasonably straight until she closed the door and turned around. She proceeded to walk into the embroidered chair that sat off to the side. She frowned down at it in irritation before backing up and trying again.
She needed to go to bed. But James was in her bed. She stopped as she headed through the kitchen. Of course James was in her bed. That was where he belonged, she decided with a sharp, rather jerky nod before squaring her shoulders and heading to the room.
He was waiting on her. How had she known he would still be awake and waiting on her? His expression was cool, arrogant, as she removed her robe and started to lie down.
“The gown.” His voice was dark, foreboding.
Ella stopped, staring at him in surprise.
“Excuse me?” she asked him haughtily. “I sleep in my gown.”
“Take it off or I’ll tear it off.” There was no mercy in his voice, no change in his expression.
Ella snorted. “Some boy toy you are, James. I might have to fire you after all. You are supposed to obey me, not the other way around.”
“Take the gown off. I won’t tell you again, Ella.” Her insides trembled at the dark brew of anger and desire that throbbed in his voice.
She did as he said, suddenly too nervous not to. She watched him helplessly as the silk gown slithered to the floor, leaving her bare before his eyes. What did he see, she wondered? She was older; her body wasn’t as toned, as pretty as it had been ten years before. She knew all her problem areas, had stared at them in the mirror more times than she could count.
He pulled the blankets back then and patted the bed beside him. Watching him warily, she got into bed, lying on her back as he stopped her from turning on her side.
His big hand moved to her stomach, caressing the flesh there as her breath caught in her throat.
“I won’t be regulated to the bedroom, hidden, a secret you keep from everyone,” he warned her coldly as he stared down at her. “Do you understand me, Ella?”
“What do you want from me?” She shook her head, her brain clouded with the alcohol, her emotions sensitized from her friend’s warnings, and James’ demands.
“Why are you even here, James? In my bed. My life,” she sighed wearily.
“You have to figure that one out on your own,” he growled, his hand moving until he could brush back the lingering strands of hair that clung to her cheek, her neck. “You should have already figured it out, Ella, but you refuse to look beyond your own fears. I won’t allow that to continue.”
His eyes softened only marginally as she stared up at him. In the soft light of the lamp, his features were shadowed, savage yet softening with tenderness. She lifted her hand until she could touch the roughness of his beard-shadowed jaw, loving the warmth and roughness of his flesh.
“I dreamed of you,” she whispered bleakly. “For so many years, I dreamed of you, James. You’ll break my heart if I let you. I can’t let you.”
His gaze became shuttered. “Go to sleep, Ella. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He moved then, turning out the light before lying down beside her, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close. Ella stared up at the dark ceiling, feeling the warmth and vitality of his body as he held her. Feeling the hard length of his cock against her thigh.
She breathed out regretfully. “I’ll miss you when you’re gone, James.”
“Go to sleep, Ella,” he warned, his voice soft yet commanding. “You don’t want to push me much further tonight.”
“But I will, James.” She shook her head, the wistful sadness inside her heart too much to bear. “I was used to being alone.”
Silence met her words. He wasn’t asleep; his body was too tight, too tense for her to believe that. His anger thickened the air in the room, though, and she realized she didn’t really want him angry. Keeping him angry was to keep him at arm’s length, a safe distance from making her body torment her with its needs. But he was close now, he had already taken her, more than once, and the little aches in her body proved that.
“I used to fantasize about you.” She frowned as she thought of the years that had passed. “How silly is that, James? That’s when what little satisfaction I had found with Jase in all those years was gone. The moment you stepped into that room destroyed it all.”
His cock jerked against her thigh.
“I warned you, Ella. I won’t warn you again.” She shivered at the dominating tone of his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, seeing only the shadowed impression of his form beside her. Her eyes lowered as she wondered what it would be like to see him out of control. All that cool purpose burned away. Could she do it? Could she make James Wyman, master of women, lose control? Her pussy gushed with the thought. She had heard rumors for years. Women talked, and unfortunately she heard the tales. And they talked about James and his cool control, his sexual deliberation. None had broken that calm. None had made him lose control.
She rolled on her side slowly, shivering as she felt him adjust his erection to her new position. His body tightened further.
“Maybe having a boy toy would be nice.” She smoothed her hand up his chest, her nails glancing his hard male nipple as she scratched lightly over it.
He caught her hand, holding it still against his chest as he stared at her through the darkness.
“Do you think I’d make a good toy, Ella?” he asked her, his voice silky, dangerous.
“It could blow up in your hands, sweetheart. You don’t want to continue on the course.”
She was just tipsy enough to smile. To lean forward and swirl her tongue over the sensitive nub of his nipple. She heard his breath catch, felt his body tighten further.
“Isn’t that the point?” she asked him as she moved lower, her tongue stroking down his hard abdomen as the muscles there clenched tightly.
His hands threaded through her hair, clenching on the strands as she nipped at his flesh, trying to halt her movements. Ella couldn’t halt her gasp. The prickling heat in her scalp was more exciting then she wanted to admit.
“Ella.” He spoke her name sharply, a demand, a command to stop, warning her in the sheer dangerous throb that lingered in the tone.
“What, James?” she asked him softly. Her head held still just below his heart, but her hands were free. She raked her nails up his thighs, loving the sound of his breath catching in his throat.
“You don’t want me to lose control, Ella,” he warned her softly.
“Of course I don’t,” she whispered, her teeth nipping at his skin as her nails ran alongside his bulging cock.
It was exhilarating, exciting. He was breathing harder now, his heart racing beneath her ear. She tugged at the grip on her hair, whimpering with the stimulation, that sharp flare of pleasure that raced through her body. Her head lowered until her tongue was able to reach the flared, hot crown of his cock. He jerked as she licked it.
The grip he had on her hair was fierce, the burning along her scalp intense, but it only fired her body as a distant amazement pierced her brain. The pain was a fiery cascade of sensations that nearly broke her. She was out of control. She, who had kept her control wrapped about her like a mantle of protection, had fallen as easily to this man as a virgin with no knowledge of the heartache awaiting her.
She pulled further against his grip, crying out as she felt her cunt clench at the ache.
Her lips capped the turgid head of his erection, slurping noisily as her tongue licked, stroked. She wanted him deep within her mouth, wanted to feel him fucking into it, unable to halt his own spiraling pleasure. To destroy his control as he had destroyed hers.
One hand gripped the thick shaft as his hips jerked, burying the smooth crown in her suckling mouth. She heard his strangled moan above her, felt his erection throb with a deep, hard flex of the tightened muscle.
“Enough.” His voice was thicker now as he pulled at her hair. When that didn’t help, he gripped her head, pulling her up as she cried in protest.
He flipped her to her back, jerking the blankets off the bed as he came over her.
“You don’t want this, Ella,” he bit out fiercely. “You don’t want to tempt me this way.”
She undulated beneath him, raking her hard-tipped breasts against his chest, rubbing her aching pussy against the thigh wedged between her legs.
“What will you do, James?” she asked him, tempting him, tempting fate and the dark visions suddenly rushing through her head. “How will you punish me? Will you share me then, to show me my place? To regain your control?”
He stilled. His hands held her wrists to the mattress as he stared down at her, his savage expression only barely discernable. He was breathing hard and fast now, fighting to regain the upper hand, and now she knew how to make him lose it.
“Can you bear it, James?” she asked him softly. “Will you join in, or merely watch as another man takes me, making me scream as you do, fucking me like you do…” Before she could anticipate him, his control broke. His legs wedged between her thighs and his cock pushed inside her swollen pussy in one hard, long stroke. She screamed out at the invasion, at the instant, fiery pleasure.
“Do you know what you’re tempting, Ella?” he groaned as she fought to accept the heavy girth buried in her cunt. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” He wasn’t still. His hips moved, his cock thrusting in and out of her in long smooth strokes as he fought to hold back. She didn’t want him to hold back. She didn’t want to hold back. Not any longer.
“How will you do it, James? How can you make me accept it? I dare you to try.” She didn’t expect the consequences of those words. His lips slammed down on hers, slanting across hers as his tongue drove deep into her mouth. At the same time, the thrusts of his cock inside her vagina increased in strength and power.
Ella cried into the kiss, her tongue tangling with his as she tilted her hips to take him deeper, harder inside her sensitive cunt. She could feel her muscles gripping him, the thickness, the heat of his erection thrusting past the sensitive tissue, stroking nerve endings already enflamed with a lust she had never thought herself capable of.
And with each stroke, each demanding invasion into the core of her body, she was reminded of what caused his loss of control. The thought of her with him and with another. Two cocks, hard and strong, pushing into her over and over again…
Her body tightened, her cunt clamping down on the pistoning power of his cock as she exploded to the images twisting through her mind, her body. She tried to scream, but her mouth with filled with James. She tried to buck him away from her, to escape the driving pleasure, the knowledge, but her pussy was filled with James. Filled with him until he groaned hard and deep, powered into her one last brutal thrust before he exploded.
The wash of his hot seed inside her channel triggered another, smaller climax as she whimpered beneath him. Her body shuddered, her womb rippling with the orgasm as the ice that had once encased her heart shattered.
She loved James Wyman. And Ella knew to the farthest depths of her soul, that the love filling her would be her ultimate destruction.