by Lora Leigh
“Look at me, baby,” he whispered when her eyes would have closed to better savor the dream she was certain this was.
“I’m going to wake up,” she whispered tearfully. “I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone again.”
“Never…” His hips bunched, then a strangled scream left her throat as he pushed forcefully inside the snug tissue clasping him so tightly.
Okay, that didn’t feel like a dream.
Well, it did, but not the sort of dream you wake up from. It felt like paradise, a burning ecstasy searing her from the inside out as she fought to accustom herself to the feel of his cock inside her once again.
She fought to catch her breath as she felt him seat inside her fully, his erection a heated brand, nudging against her cervix, sending electrified sensations whipping through her body, tightening her womb.
It had been so long. It seemed as though it had been years since he had touched her, taken her. Since she had known the forceful dominance of his possession.
“You’re so hot, baby,” he growled, holding her head still as he sipped at her lips, stared into her eyes and began an intoxicating rhythm between her thighs. She tightened her pussy, needing him deeper, needing to feel him to her very soul as he took her.
“There you go.” He smiled against her lips as she lifted to him. “Let me have you, baby. Let me feel how hot and sweet your pussy milks my cock.” She bucked beneath him, driving him further as she began to shudder with the pleasure, hard tremors whipping through her muscles as she began to shake with her need to climax.
“Good…” he groaned, moving faster now, fucking her hard and steady, his cock moving forcibly, stroking the ultra-sensitive tissue, sending her senses careening as she felt her body tighten in nearing explosion.
“Watch me, baby.” He began to move harder. Faster. “Let me see your eyes as you come, Courtney, keep them open.”
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Open. Her eyes were open, and she gasped for breath beneath his kiss, shuddering, whimpering cries leaving her throat, building to a strangled scream as she jerked, exploded and felt her cunt melt around the steady, hard thrusts of his erection.
His face tightened, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a snarl of pleasure as he slammed inside her. Once. Twice. Then he tightened, jerking in the throes of his own release as his seed began to spill inside her in hard, steady pulses.
“I love you…” She cried against his lips, her arms tightening around him, tears falling from her eyes. “Oh God, Ian, I love you…” Weary, spent, Ian collapsed beside her as he pulled her into his arms and lifted her to draw the comforter back before jerking it over them and settling in the bed as Courtney rested beside him.
She hadn’t woken yet, which meant she must not have been sleeping.
“I thought I had lost you forever,” she whispered against his chest, feeling his hands move over her back in a comforting stroke as he sighed heavily.
“You stole my heart, and I hadn’t even realized it.” He kissed the top of her head gently. “What happened with Melissa terrified me, Courtney. I thought she was innocent. Thought I had hurt her, even though her father swore that wasn’t the case. I spent the last week in Texas with him. Finding out the truth. Learning things I hadn’t known about her. Putting it to rest.”
It wouldn’t have been easy for him, she knew, facing the past after all these years.
“I wouldn’t have come to you if I hadn’t known what I wanted, Ian.” It hurt that he hadn’t trusted her love. “If I hadn’t known my own heart and needs.”
“It wasn’t you, Courtney. It was me.” He drew her back, leaning over her as her head rested against the pillow. “Believe that if you never believe anything else. It was my fears and the residue of guilt I had for my lifestyle and the excesses that are so much a part of me. I always felt love would ease it, take the need from me. It hadn’t with Melissa, and I always felt it had destroyed her. And you…” His lips kicked in a grin.
“You reveled in them. I had to realize myself what love was before I could realize how much I truly loved you. If you hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have been forced to make the discoveries I did. You saved us both in doing that. But…” His hands tangled in her hair again. “Never again. You won’t leave me again or I promise you, you won’t enjoy the spanking I’ll give you in payment.”
Everything inside her heated, lit from within, and lived. He loved her, just as she had known he would. Just as she had known he should.
And as Ian watched her, he watched the fragile glimmer of innocence that had lit her eyes when he entered the room, glow to full, vivid life. Love. Pure, innocent, joyous love. There were no shadows in her eyes, no pain, only acceptance and the sweet emotion he had missed so desperately in the past weeks. For the first time in his life, Ian knew he belonged.
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Her lips curved slowly. “Hmm,” she hummed at the thought. “Spank me, Uncle Ian. Spank me so hard…”
And he knew there was no taming a wild, shameless wind.
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Chapter Sixteen
“Well, they haven’t come down yet.” Dane glanced to the stairs, a frown creasing his brow as his wife moved beside him.
“Hmm, perhaps they are still…talking…” He heard the suggestive tone of her voice and stared down at her reprovingly.
She shook her head at him, giving him that hopeless look that only she could perfect.
“He’s still too old for her,” he muttered.
She chuckled knowingly. He was nearly ten years her senior as well.
“I don’t want to hear it,” he informed her before she could open her mouth to remind him of that fact. “That’s us. This is our daughter.” His baby.
He shook his head, drawing away from the marble entryway and moving back into the dimly lit living room where he once again threw himself on the couch to await his daughter.
Marguerita sat down beside him, cuddling into his embrace, her head resting against his chest as he propped his chin against it.
She was his laughter. His life. He had nearly lost her once and he never let himself forget what life had been like without her. Devoid of laughter, or warmth. He was devoted to her, he would die for her. Just as, he knew, Ian would do for Courtney.
He had seen it in the other man’s eyes as he stood at the door hours before.
“Kill me now,” he had ordered Dane fiercely. “Because life without her fucking sucks.”
It was then he had known Courtney hadn’t been wrong. She had captured the heart Dane had feared his friend had lost years before. It was disconcerting though, knowing the sexual experiences his daughter would share. It was weird enough just knowing she would be sleeping with Ian. The perverted bastard.
“And our daughter is a grown woman.” He stared at her as she moved, coming before him before straddling his thighs suggestively, her silk dress falling back from her shapely thighs as they hugged his hips. “And I would say, she will likely be quite busy for several hours.” She leaned down, her lips moving over his neck as his palms cupped her rear.
His Marguerita. Perfect. His life and breath.
“Hmm, we might have a few hours to kill.” His head fell back on the couch as her teeth raked beneath his chin. “Here, or the bedroom?” 150
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He knew her well though. She was shameless, a wanton who reveled in his touch, who met his passions with needs and desires of her own and never hesitated to state them.
“Hmm, do you really want to move?” she whispered, her breath hot, her voice a husky whisper of desire.
“Not that far.” He lifted her dress further as he turned her and laid her back on the couch. “Don’t scream too loud.” He flashed her a devilish smile. “The children are still awake.”
She laughed, a throaty sound of joy, of amusement and his heart tripped in happiness, as it always h
ad.
His Marguerita. And if Ian was as smart as Dane had always thought he was, then Courtney was in very capable, very loving hands…
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About the author:
Lora Leigh is a wife and mother living in Kentucky. She dreams in bright, vivid images of the characters intent on taking over her writing life, and fights a constant battle to put them on the hard drive of her computer before they can disappear as fast as they appeared.
Lora’s family, and her writing life co-exist, if not in harmony, in relative peace with each other. An understanding husband is the key to late nights with difficult scenes and stubborn characters. His insights into human nature and the workings of the male psyche provide her hours of laughter, and innumerable romantic ideas that she works tirelessly to put into effect.
Lora welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, #13, Stow, Ohio 44224.
Also by Lora Leigh:
A Wish, A Kiss, A Dream anthology
B.O.B.’s Fall (with Veronica Chadwick)
Bound Hearts 1: Surrender
Bound Hearts 2: Submission
Bound Hearts 3: Seduction
Bound Hearts 4: Wicked Intent
Bound Hearts 5: Sacrifice
Bound Hearts 6: Embraced
Cowboy & the Captive
Coyote Breeds 1: Soul Deep
Dragon Prime
Elemental Desires anthology
Feline Breeds 1: Tempting The Beast
Feline Breeds 2: The Man Within
Feline Breeds 3: Kiss of Heat
Law And Disorder 1: Moving Violations (with Veronica Chadwick) Legacies 1: Shattered Legacy
Legacies 2: Shadowed Legacy
Legacies 3: Savage Legacy
Manaconda anthology
Men Of August 1: Marly’s Choice
Men Of August 2: Sarah’s Seduction
Men Of August 3: Heather’s Gift
Men Of August 4: August Heat (12 Quickies of Christmas) Ménage a Magick
Wolf Breeds 1: Wolfe’s Hope
Wolf Breeds 2: Jacob’s Faith
Wolf Breeds 3: Aiden’s Charity
Wolf Breeds 4: Elizabeth’s Wolf
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel
are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
FORBIDDEN PLEASURE. Copyright © 2007 by Lora Leigh. All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Book design by Jonathan Bennett
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Leigh, Lora.
Forbidden pleasure / Lora Leigh.
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-0-312-36871-5 ISBN-10: 0-312-36871-2
I. Title.
PS3612.E357F67
2007
813'.6—dc222
00700430
2
First Edition: June 2007
10 987654321
For Lady Susan, for sitting up long into the night as I hashed out this plot, and for all your invaluable advice and hours of reading. Your insight, patience, and willingness to listen to and read more than a dozen different versions has made all the difference.
And to all my advanced readers, thank you for your advice and for your patience. You make a difference that goes above and beyond the call of friendship.
Author's Note
The Bound Hearts series is in no way connected to the book titled The Club by Lora Leigh. That is a different Lora Leigh. At the time I chose my pen name and began the first Bound Hearts book featuring the heroes who gather together in a place simply called The Club, the company I was with published only in electronic format and not in print. I didn't check for other authors using the same pen name, because I didn't foresee being in print.
That was my mistake, and I apologize.
There is no book in the Bound Hearts series titled The Club, and there are no plans for one. I'm sorry for any confusion.
I hope you enjoy Forbidden Pleasure, and I hope my world grabs you as it has grabbed me. Thank you, the readers of the Bound Hearts, for all your support and your dedication to the series. I hope it continues.
Prologue
SINCLAIR'S GENTLEMAN'S CLUB
ALEXANDRIA. VIRGINIA
"I resigned." John "Mac" McCoy picked up his drink, sipped, and let the calming heat of the whiskey seep into his system.
"So I heard." His best friend and now former partner, Jethro Riggs, took the seat across from him, set the whiskey bottle and glass carefully on the table, and leaned back to stare at his friend as he poured his own drink. "Honeymoon isn't even over yet and your resignation landed on the desk. Wish you had told me. I could have won the office bet on how long you'd make it."
Jethro's rakish smile went well with his overly long black hair and wicked blue eyes.
The short, scruffy black beard and mustache drew feminine eyes, but the cold, bleak shadows in his gaze held them back.
Mac worried about Jethro. When he left, he knew the other man would go from case to case without stopping to enjoy life. And life was there to be enjoyed.
"I could have used the cash, man." Jethro's smile was laced with regret.
Mac snorted at the thought. "Cheaters never win, Jethro."
"Yeah, yeah. So I hear. So, what are you going to do? Security?"
Mac grinned. There weren't a lot of jobs out there that appealed to a former undercover FBI agent, but Mac had always made certain he had a fallback position.
"Farming."
"Farming?" Jethro's eyes narrowed. "Hell, no."
"I still have that farm in North Carolina. I've saved enough to try to make a go at it.
With Keiley's computer work and a little side work myself working Internet investigations, we should do well. It beats getting shot at on a regular basis."
Jethro only shook his head, a knowing light filling his shadowed blue eyes.
"And your membership here?"
That part sucked. Mac stared around the dark wood walls, the open space, the bar at one end of what had once been a grand ballroom, the fireplace crackling at the other end.
In between were two pool tables and several seating arrangements with large comfortable chairs, televisions, newspapers, and tables a man could put his feet on. But it wasn't the ambience that drew the members to the club. It was the chance to socialize with men who understood their ways, accepted them, understood them.
"I gave Ian notice earlier," he said quietly.
He was aware of the bomb he had just dropped, aware that Jethro had been waiting, even more than the others in the club, for the day Mac would choose a third.
The club catered to men with a particular sexual taste. Men who had seen the darkness in the world for whatever reason, and searched for peace in the extremity of sharing their lovers with other men.
Men who worshipped the female body. Who believed sex was an adventure and adventures were always more exciting when shared. Especially with someone who understood the particular pleasures to be found in pushing a woman to her sexual limits.
In giving her more pleasure than she could have conceived possible.
Mac loved it. He thrived on it. He came here to unwind, to drink, to discuss
world affairs, and to either choose a third for his latest lover or to become a third to another man's lover.
At least, he used to come here for that.
Six months of marriage, and the pressure was beginning to tell on him. The knowledge that the club members were just waiting to see whom he would choose to break his wife into the ménage lifestyle he
practiced was beginning to fray his control. Knowing Jethro was growing more distant, more certain that the woman he had given to Mac would never know his touch, was starting to eat at him.
He knew Jethro's feelings for Keiley. Just as he knew that the other man would have never given into them.
"You haven't told her yet, have you?" Jethro said then. "I thought you were going to."
He had met Jethro during his first year in Quantico, where they had been paired together for a training exercise. Mac's easier, more relaxed demeanor had slowly rubbed off on the too rigid, too somber Jethro Riggs. And once each learned that ménage was the other's preferred sexual activity, they had become fast friends.
Not that the friendship hadn't been without its problems. They were both dominant men; both tended to want to control the sexual situations that involved their women.
But they learned they each had their own distinctive areas that interlaced perfectly in those relationships. Mac tended to indulge his lovers emotionally, while Jethro indulged them in more physical areas.
For years he and Jethro had trained together, worked together, and shared their women together.
Until Mac met Keiley.
"She's heard the rumors." Mac sipped at his drink, wishing he could just toss it back and let the fiery burn blaze through the regret in his gut.
"And?"
"And I told her it was in the past." He looked around the room again before meeting Jethro's gaze. "It's going to stay in the past. For now."