Chapter 26
Three-Quarters of an Hour Later
Waves of raw lust rolled through Io’s body as she leaned over the settee, her muscles quivering and her hips canted for more of Masterson’s cruel palm.
The moment they had reached the hotel room—still without speaking—he had swiftly stripped off her hat and cloak and bent her over the back of the settee.
“I promised not to harangue you about your behavior today,” he hissed hotly in her ear. “But I made no such promise about not punishing you.”
And then he commenced to deliver a spanking that would doubtless leave bruises on her bottom.
He spanked her like he needed it. As if he craved it every bit as much as Io did.
His big warm palm smoothed away the hurt he’d just inflicted on her flaming buttocks.
Io shivered at the odd, addictive blend of pleasure and pain this aloof man had discovered she needed. All her anger at him—at the world and life and the injustice of it all—bled away, swamped under waves of pure satisfaction.
He slid a finger between her lower lips, his confident, proprietary stroking adding more layers to what was already a blissful experience.
And then he did something unexpected. Something…shocking, coming from him…
He used her arousal to wet her back hole, a part of her he had never touched before.
Io thrust her hips higher. “Mmm, Masterson… that’s so naughty.”
“I am going to take you back here next time.”
His cool and—yes—masterful tone made her inner walls clench to be filled. Lord. If he ever learned just how fiercely he affected her and with so little effort on his part, she would never live it down.
Io grabbed the reins of her rapidly spiraling desire and yanked hard. She forced herself to utter an insouciant laugh and then say, “Of course you may do that.”
Her reward for such self-control was the slightest jolt of his hand.
“You would allow it?”
Io bristled at his tone, which sounded almost…bored. Damn the man! Was there nothing she could do to get under his thick hide? Well, nothing inside the bedchamber, at any rate.
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, striving for the same degree of boredom in her own voice. “Right after I do it to you.”
Her words struck their target and she felt incredulity roll through his body.
“I can almost see your face, Masterson.” This time she didn’t have to force her amusement.
“Fortunately for me, you are not adequately equipped to carry through with your threat, my lady.”
His smug, superior words surprised a bark of laughter out of her. “Are you really unaware of how a woman can do such a thing? Oh, Masterson! How I look forward to giving you that lesson.” Io reveled in regaining the upper hand.
“I am hard-pressed to imagine a less likely scenario,” he retorted, somewhat lamely she thought.
“You really are an innocent, aren’t you, darling?”
His hand struck her cheek with a loud crack. “Shut up, you obstreperous jade.”
Io laughed.
She immediately stopped laughing when she felt the hard, hot silk of his shaft stroking her folds, his skilled caresses driving her quickly toward the brink of an orgasm.
Io pushed her ass up as much as she could, not caring how desperate she sounded or looked, and forced herself to say, “Put on a condom and fuck me, now.”
She bit back a groan when his body moved away to comply with her demand. She’d been reckless with him once before—engaging in sex without a condom for the first time since she had become pregnant—and had been fortunate that he had kept his wits and not spent inside her.
Io had been ashamed of her weakness and would not place that burden on him again. Corbin, for all his rigid morality, had accepted her demand for protection far more readily and willingly than Lamar had ever done. The irony of that did not escape her: a Council member from Canoga had begged her to engage in intercourse without a condom while a Presbyterian ex-seminary student had never once questioned her wishes.
You were the one who made the decision to do without a condom. It is almost as if you wanted to fall pregnant and trap the man…
Io violently thrust the unwanted thought away and twisted around, desperate not to be left alone with her thoughts. “What are you doing back there, Masterson?” she called out. “Composing a sermon?”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back hard. “Stay put and don’t speak unless I tell you or I will gag you, my lady.”
Io’s body responded to his threat in a way that shocked her. For a moment, she thought she might actually climax as she met his fierce, hard gaze.
As it was, she could barely manage to utter the few words that her addled brain came up with. “Please…sir.”
Masterson’s nostrils flared and then he uttered an animalistic snarl and drove himself deeply into her body.
“Yes,” Io hissed, her eyes threatening to roll back in her head.
“My God,” Masterson said in a voice that almost sounded…broken.
And then he commenced to ride her as if the hounds of hell were on his heels.
The orgasm, when it came, was shattering and Io was so caught up in its grasp that she didn’t even notice Masterson removing her gown and carrying her to the bed afterward.
When she could force her eyes open, she saw that he had collapsed alongside her, still completely dressed, his lips parted, eyes closed, breathing deep and even.
Io smiled at the sight and then promptly drifted off herself.
***
Corbin woke up with a start, disoriented. There was a deliciously soft warmth along one side and he saw that Io was still sleeping soundly beside him.
It all came back to him then.
He had carried her to the bed after their torrid session, stripped her, and then—amazingly—fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Corbin took his watch from his pocket and winced. They had less than an hour remaining. He was furious with himself. How could he fall asleep when they only had a few hours together?
He could only think they had both been exhausted by the emotional ride from the wharf to the hotel.
Not to mention the physical ride you gave her once you got to the hotel.
Corbin shook his head at the snide mental voice. He quietly slipped off the bed and retired to the bathroom to salvage what he could of his appearance. Although he’d removed her gown and draped it over the clothes horse, his own garments were horribly wrinkled from sleeping in them.
There wasn’t much he could do other than fix his mop of hair—he desperately needed a haircut—wash his face and iron the worst of the wrinkles from his clothing with the palms of his hands.
It would have to do.
Corbin opened the bathroom door and was startled to see that Io was lounging—nude—on the settee in front of the fireplace.
“You’re awake,” he said stupidly.
She merely grunted, not looking up as she flipped through the small journal she carried with her in the ugly satchel she was never without.
Corbin snatched unobtrusive glances at her as he pretended to gather up his gloves, coat, and hat, which he’d scattered around the room in his haste to have her.
“I see you looking,” she muttered,
So much for being unobtrusive.
“Are you not getting dressed to go?” he asked, irritated by his inability to concentrate when she was unclothed. Or clothed. Or in the same damned room, for that matter.
“Does my nudity bother you?” She lifted her head and fixed him with the coolly mocking look that always made him feel as if she could see every perverted, debased desire he’d hidden in the dark recesses of his mind for decades.
Until she dragged them into the light.
“I don’t care what you wear or don’t wear,” he lied. “Suit yourself—or not, as the case may be,” he added with forced lightness. He turned his back on her and pretended to straighten his four-in-hand, not wanting her to notice that he was half-hard just from looking at her.
“You are tumescent, Masterson, aren’t you?”
Corbin squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for patience. So much for hiding his condition. He ignored her comment, hoping she would drop the subject if he did not engage her.
“Modern medical science suggests that it is healthier for a man your age to ejaculate more than one day a week,” she went on. “Perhaps you need an additional lover to—”
Corbin swung around to face her. “I am notplanning to have sex with another woman,” he seethed.
She arched one of her elegant black eyebrows, the action infuriating. “Whyever not? Is it because of your Puritanical—”
“It is because I am not an animal in rut, unable to control my own base impulses.”
Her sly smile warned him of what she was about to say.
“Except when it comes to you, evidently,” he said before she could speak.
“Hmm. Well, if you won’t find a woman to relieve your needs then please tell me you masturbate regularly.”
Corbin could only give a disbelieving huff before turning his back again and slipping on his overcoat.
“Or are you too Puritanical to touch yourself? Do you believe in the sins of Onan? Or perhaps you don’t know how to masturbate? Oh, wait—of course you do! I recall that time when I interrupted you in the midst of—”
Corbin whipped around. “I will not discuss my masturbatory schedule with you.”
She raised both eyebrows this time. “So you do have one, then?”
He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. “Where are you going with this, Io?”
“I just told you, medical research—”
“Not that. This”—he made a gesture that encompassed them and the room around them. “Where do you think this is leading?” The words were out before he could stop them.
Her amusement slowly drained away. “I thought we came here to sate our carnal desires on one another.” She cocked her head. “Why? Where do you think this is leading?” Before he could answer—not that he had one—she gave a mocking laugh. “Please tell me you are not so misguided as to believe we are headed toward love and marriage, Masterson?”
Corbin swallowed down the bile that rose within him at her sneer. “No. I’m not so misguided as that,” he admitted grimly.
“What are you trying to say, Masterson? That you want to end this?” she asked, cutting him a mildly curious look, as if she did not care one way or another how he answered.
Corbin desperately wished that he’d just kept his mouth shut. But he hadn’t. And now it sounded as if she was ready to call an end to things right now.
Say yes and save yourself further pain, self-preservation urged.
That was exactly what he should do. But he simply could not force himself to say the word.
Instead, he said, “When we agreed on this arrangement, we both said either of us could stop it at any time. If neither of us shows up next week, we will know where the other stands on the matter.” The words were like acid on his tongue, but at least he had not been the one to call an end to things.
She slipped her journal back into her bag. “Fine,” she said, her careless shrug making it painfully obvious that she had no interest in any future that included the two of them together in any meaningful way.
Corbin’s lungs felt as if they were on fire and he realized he’d stopped breathing some time ago. He needed to get out now, before there was nothing left of himself to rescue. He pulled on his gloves, snatched up his hat, and strode toward the door, pausing only after he opened it, but not turning around.
“Fine,” he said, his word a harsh echo of hers.
***
Io began to dress immediately after the door closed behind Masterson. She liked to remain naked in his presence because it always wrong-footed him so badly. And because he was the most articulate, cleverest, and quickest man she had ever known and Io needed every advantage in their skirmishes.
Skirmishes she greatly enjoyed.
Skirmishes that were evidently over.
Thanks to her.
Io stared blankly at the hands holding her chemise, infuriated to see they were shaking.
Fine? You said fine? You should have said something else—anything else. He is a proud man. After the way you just behaved, he will not be here next week.
She flung the garment away and dropped onto the settee, not sprawling as she’d done earlier with Masterson—like a seductress in one of the dreadful naughty novels her younger brother Ares read and which he thought nobody else knew about.
No, all that posturing had all been for Corbin’s benefit, because it was so easy and so enjoyable to assail his prudish sense of decorum.
But Corbin wasn’t there. And chances were, thanks to her rash behavior and fine, he wouldn’t be there next week, or ever again.
Io drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
The room was colder than it had been only moments earlier. Frigid.
These Wednesday afternoons with Corbin Masterson had been the most wonderful of her life, and not just sexually, although she had never admitted that to herself until that moment.
Io rolled onto her side, still clutching her knees, marveling at how she’d not even known Masterson a year ago at this same time and yet he seemed to have invaded every single corner of her life.
Or at least he had, until today.
But now these meetings—which had been the highlight of her week, although she would die before admitting that to Masterson—might be over.
And it is all due to your foolish pride and crippling fear.
The last time I set aside my foolish pride for the sake of a man I not only lost my dignity; I also lost a child. What I have done today is neither foolish nor weak. It is wise.
It is self-preservation.
Self-preservation. The words had been a mantra for over four years, ever since she’d thrown caution to the winds and followed her heart.
For some reason, the words had a hollow ring to them this time.