Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3 Read online

  He buried one hand in her hair, dragging her head back, exposing her throat, and she found herself panting. Shaking with rage and so much desire. It wasn’t what she wanted either and yet here it was. “What about you, lawyer man?” she demanded, bracing her palms flat on his chest. “If you want to talk about blame, you’re nothing like you were supposed to be either.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” His fingers tightened.

  Jesus, her voice was shaking now too. “I wanted cold. I wanted passionless, I wanted safe. But then I saw you in the courtroom and you were none of those things.” She pulled against his hold on her hair, part of her relishing the prickles of pain when he didn’t release her. “You were all anger and passion, and hunger. There was a goddamned warrior hiding inside of you and I didn’t even know it. But that’s not even the worst part.” Her eyes prickled, unexpected, unwanted tears coming from where she had no idea. “The worst part was realizing I wanted all those things. And you’d been keeping them from me.”

  He took a breath, she could hear it. “You know why—”

  “Oh yes, I know why. You kept them from me because you’re too damn stupid to understand you’re nothing like your father and you never will be!”

  He stared at her, the pulse at the base of his throat beating fast. His fingers were knotted painfully in her hair but she ignored them, all her concentration on the hard glitter of his eyes and the singing tension she felt in his body.

  “You don’t want that man, Victoria,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You really don’t.”

  “Don’t tell me what I don’t want.” She blinked away the tears. Hard. “I’m not interested in the man you’re trying to be. I want the man you’re trying to hide. That’s what I’ve always wanted.” And then, in a sudden rush. “God, let’s be ourselves for once in our bloody lives!”

  He gave her another long, intense look. Then the breath escaped him, a ragged, harsh sound. “I’m not …sure I know how.”

  She swallowed, her throat aching. “You do, Connor. Just be the man you’ve been every night this week.”

  His chest heaved, a wild light in his eyes. “And then we end it. We take our week and when it’s over we don’t look back. We don’t ever fucking look back.”

  He was right. In so many ways he was right. Two days left to be themselves and then they could move on. Then they could be the people they were supposed to be.

  She didn’t know why that made her feel so desperate. “Okay,” she agreed thickly, telling herself as well as him. “No looking back.”

  He only hesitated for a moment before bending his head and covering her mouth. It was a hard, insistent, devouring kiss. And she returned it, just as hard, just as insistent. She sank her hands into his hair the way she’d done at the dinner table, curling her fingers in the silky strands, gripping him tightly as he gripped her.

  There was a fever in the kiss that hadn’t been there before. Hunger with a raw edge. The knowledge that this was all there would ever be for either of them. This was all they could have of one another.

  And it would have to be enough.

  Connor broke the kiss abruptly then with one forceful movement, he pulled the business shirt she wore off her, leaving her naked. Before she could move, she found herself turned around and propelled across the room to the bed, shoved face-down onto it. She put her palms on the mattress, preparing to lever herself up, only to feel his hand at the small of her back, pinning her down.

  “You don’t want the lawyer?” Connor hissed in her ear. “You may regret it.”

  His other hand, warm and sure, moved over the curve of her butt, then squeezed. Hard. She kicked out at him, panting, only to feel his thumb slide between her buttocks, circling then pressing down on the sensitive opening there.

  She gasped, turning her head on the sheets as a wave of heat engulfed her. She’d never had anyone touch her there and now he was…he was…

  “Connor!” His name burst from her as his thumb pressed harder, pushing inside her. “Ah, God…” Her fingers curled in the sheets, the filthy pleasure of the sensation stealing the air from her lungs.

  “You like that, don’t you?” His voice was a whisper, the warmth of his breath stealing over her bare shoulder. “My thumb here. But you’re such a dirty little girl I think you’d prefer my cock instead. In fact, I think you’d love to have my cock there.”

  Victoria screwed her eyes shut, his thumb moving gently, in stark contrast to the rough words and the weight of his palm pressing in the small of her back. She could hardly breathe as sensation began to pull tight, a vicious, brutal kind of climax waiting for her.

  This was wrong. This was dirty. She loved it. And she wanted more.

  “Don’t be coy,” she panted, shoving herself back against his hand. “Tell me where you want to put your cock.”

  There was a pause, a little flare of satisfaction curling inside her as she realized she’d surprised him. Then unexpectedly he laughed, a husky, wholly sexual sound that shivered over her like a caress. It was almost shocking. She’d never heard him laugh like that.

  “Christ, you’re amazing.” His lips brushed against her ear, his teeth closing down on her earlobe in a hard nip. “I want to put my cock in your ass, you sexy bitch. That explicit enough for you?”

  He moved his thumb again, as if to emphasize the point and she bit back a groan. “So stop talking about it and do it. Or is lawyer Connor getting in the way again?”

  The weight on her back disappeared, his arm coming down near her head as he braced himself. “I don’t want to hurt you.” There was a rough need in his voice and a note of concern that had her throat tightening.

  “That didn’t appear to bother you when you fucked me up against the wall downstairs,” she pointed out.

  “This is different. We’ve never done this before.”

  “We hadn’t done it up against a wall before either but that didn’t stop us.” It was nice he’d thought of her, that her comfort mattered to him. But then he had right the way through their little arrangement, hadn’t he? Rearranging her clothes. Cooking her dinner. Giving her space when she needed it. And pushing her, all the time pushing her whether he knew it or not, to be herself.

  The tightness in her throat moved down into her chest.

  “Are you sure?” His breath feathered over her nape.

  She was shivering and it wasn’t anything to do with the sex.

  You fall for him and this will be the end of you. The end of the person you want to be.

  There would be no more cool. No more reserve. No more containment. Nothing to hide behind anymore.

  Fear gripped her, clutching at her throat so tight she could hardly breathe.

  “We don’t have to, Victoria,” he said quietly, misinterpreting her hesitation and shifting a little, withdrawing his thumb from her. “There’s no pressure.”

  She could run right now. Run right out of this house and never come back. She’d only miss out on two more days.

  You promised him you wouldn’t run.

  She swallowed and didn’t move. Because it wasn’t only her promise that held her still. She wanted the freedom they’d only just discovered. Freedom from the secrets, from the excuses, from each other’s expectations. She wanted the passion, the desire and the hunger. The giving over of herself to sensation, and to hell with the consequences. She wanted one last taste before they went back to their separate lives.

  And that was stronger by far than her fear.

  Which meant she’d just have to not fall for him.

  “Why?” she asked thickly, wanting to goad him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little butt sex, lawyer man?”

  “Jesus, you do love playing with fire.” He nipped her ear again. “Okay then, you asked for it. Now stay exactly like that. I have to go get a couple of things.”

 
He pushed himself away, the warmth of his body disappearing.

  Victoria kept her eyes shut, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She could hear his footsteps moving over to the nightstand and a drawer being pulled out then pushed back in again. The sound of him returning.

  Her fingers curled tighter in the sheet as anticipation began to build. And when he finally touched her she shivered all over because it wasn’t where she expected, a light finger trailing down the length of her spine. She sighed then felt his thumb, slippery with a cold liquid that must have been lube, push between her buttocks again, easing inside her, beginning to work the liquid into her exquisitely sensitive opening.

  Goose bumps broke out all over her skin and she gasped at the sensation, that wicked, vicious pleasure starting to build. A distant part of her wanted to fight it, wanted to hold out against it like it was a line she couldn’t cross. But she was through with that part of herself. She was going to give in, revel in the sensation, take the pleasure and run with it because it wouldn’t happen again. She couldn’t do this with another man. She wouldn’t be able to do this with any other men. Only Connor.

  You’re falling. Don’t.

  The breath escaped her in a rush, her eyes opening. Directly beside the bed were the doors of the closet. The ones closest to the head of the bed weren’t mirrored but the ones toward the end were. And she could see him standing behind her. She could see the moment when he reached out and stroked her spine while he worked his thumb, the look on his face fierce with hunger, and something else she couldn’t read.

  And the pleasure grew, twined with a tight, needy sensation in her chest.

  There was tenderness in the touch on her spine and yet a hard, insistent pressure from his thumb, the combination of both making her want to squirm against his hand to get herself off and yet burst into tears at the same time.

  She closed her eyes against the sight, fighting the tightness in her chest. Pushing herself against his probing thumb, wanting that sensation instead.

  But his hand came down hard on one buttock, making her jerk at the unexpected smack. “Stop,” he ordered sharply. “Keep still otherwise you won’t get what you want, greedy girl.”

  God, she wanted to push that boundary too, explore that sensation as well, because it too was better than the feeling behind her ribs. The ache at the back of her throat.

  But before she could make the decision, she heard a crinkle of foil and felt him gently part her buttocks. And then the head of his cock was pressing against her ass. She shuddered at the sensation of pressure. He pushed a little harder, the tight ring of muscle giving and unexpected tears started behind her eyes. She’d been expecting pain but still.

  “You okay?” he asked thickly. “Shall I stop? Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  Perhaps he should. Perhaps this was too much.

  She opened her eyes again, her gaze drawn helplessly to the reflection in the mirror. His hands were gripping her hips, his tall, broad figure positioned behind her and there was something unbearably erotic about the look on his face. It was all tension and hunger, desire and desperation. Yet all tightly leashed. Holding himself back. For her.

  Don’t fall. Don’t.

  No, of course she wouldn’t. And she was letting the emotions get to her, rather than the physical aspect of the sex. Which meant she needed to go through with this, prove to herself she was stronger. Besides, they’d already crossed so many lines, what was one more? There was only forward from this moment. And once it was over, once they’d come out the other side of wherever this was going, they’d both finally be free.

  “Keep going,” she said hoarsely.

  So he did. Gently. Rocking into her in short, slow movements. Deepening his penetration by increments. And she kept her gaze on his face, watching mesmerized as the tension in it is pulled even tighter.

  There wasn’t so much pain now, only pressure. An intense stretching sensation that made her tremble, another wave of heat going through her. She felt full and at the same time empty. The pleasure deep and yet not enough.

  “C-Connor.” His name escaped without her permission and his gaze shifted, found hers in the mirror. Held.

  Her throat ached. She wanted to look away, close her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to do so.

  Falling…

  He didn’t speak, his eyes locked with hers, his hips moving, pushing deeper and deeper. There were no more dirty words, no more dirty names. Only an intimacy that made her feel utterly defenseless, even more exposed than she had been when he’d watched her with Raphael.

  “Connor,” she said again, not really knowing whether she wanted him to stop or to look away, only that she needed to say his name.

  Again, he didn’t reply. He was all the way inside her now, a heavy, insistent pressure, pausing only to slide one arm around her waist and hold her hard against him.

  She found she was panting, trembling, completely caught by the intensity of his gaze.

  He began to move again, the push of his hips picking up speed, becoming a little more forceful. Watching her in the mirror. Seeing her. And she wanted to tell him to look away, anything so he wouldn’t see the pleasure she was getting from this. The way the sensation was breaking her apart.

  “Victoria,” he said roughly and she felt his other hand move against her stomach, sliding down between her thighs, finding the tight little bud of her clit. Circling it. Electricity fired through her in an intense, hard burst.

  Victoria. Not all those erotic, exciting words he’d called her before. Words she could hide behind, masks she could wear for a while and put down again afterwards.

  Only her name. Her real name.

  Falling so hard…

  “No,” she gasped as his circling fingers moved lower, stroking the folds of her sex.

  “Yes.” Two fingers slid inside her, thrusting in time with the push of his cock. His gaze unwavering, locked on hers. “You’re my Victoria. My dirty, beautiful, sexy Victoria.”

  And much to her horror, she felt her eyes fill with tears again, the wild, raw pleasure turning inside her. Unstoppable. Inexorable.

  “I’m not.” Her voice was a thread, a thin whisper of sound.

  “You are.” He twisted his fingers, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the room, the expression on his face savage with desire. “You’re mine, Victoria. Mine.” And he brushed his thumb over her clit.

  The orgasm exploded through her, a supernova of pure sensation, electrifying her, a scream tearing from her throat. And still she couldn’t look away from him, every nerve ending igniting, tears overflowing and running down her cheeks, sobs catching her throat. Watching the blue of his eyes become brilliant, his expression agonized as his rhythm changed, became jerky. A growling roar escaped him, the unguarded pleasure in his face incandescent.

  It was only then she was able to tear her gaze away, burying her hot cheeks in the cool cotton of the pillowcase.

  She’d been right to be afraid. He’d broken her. Systematically laid waste to the person she was trying to be, reducing her to nothing but shattered pieces.

  Fallen.

  And she had no idea how she was going to rebuild herself again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Connor woke at his usual time of six a.m., way earlier than he would have liked, but the irritation of that was mitigated by the fact that when he turned his head, there was a naked woman sprawled on the bed beside him. And not just any naked woman. Victoria.

  She was lying on her stomach, her head buried in the pillow, very firmly asleep. The sheet had slipped off her, revealing long limbs and delicious curves, a black storm of curls against the white cotton of the pillowcase.

  He turned on his side, studying her for a long moment. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept in the same bed, still less woken up together. Certainly he’d never woken up to find her naked besi
de him.

  An overwhelming sense of satisfaction settled inside him and he couldn’t help reaching out to trail his fingers over the smooth curve of her back.

  He felt…strangely hollow. But this time the feeling was a good one. As if something that had turned poisonous had been drained away, leaving an empty, clean sort of feeling.

  Perhaps it was just the sex, but he didn’t think so. There was more to it than that. Certainly the sex between them had uncovered things, unlocked parts of themselves they’d never known existed. And those parts seem to fit together very well.

  They fit perfectly.

  Especially last night. And it hadn’t been in the tight feel of her ass around his cock, or the dirty fantasy he’d imagined finally becoming reality. It was in the conviction in her voice when she’d told him what he’d done to his father was a matter of survival, his and his mother’s. That he hadn’t had a choice. The utter certainty of it had had him protesting purely because he wanted to believe her so very badly and just couldn’t let himself.

  It had also been in the look in her eyes as he’d met her gaze in the mirror. An intense and complicated look. Because behind the desire and pleasure in her face had been what looked like fear. And longing. A wordless question demanding an answer. So he’d given it.

  Mine. You’re mine, Victoria.

  He’d never been possessive but in that moment he’d felt it so strongly he hadn’t been able to keep quiet. And not just for her sexy body and her uninhibited passion. He also wanted her belief in him, her conviction, and her complete certainty he was not the man he was secretly afraid he was. No one else had ever given him that and he didn’t want to share it.

  She’d showed that side of herself to no one else but him. Even with Raphael, she hadn’t been as naked as she’d been last night with him.