Lora_Leigh_Bound_Hearts_4_Wicked_Intent[1].pdf (11 page)

pussy in a spasmodic clench as she released a muttered moan of satisfaction. In this, her

secret would be safe.

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Lora Leigh

Lucian hid his surprise, his shock. It wasn’t easy and he was well aware that Devril

was doing the same. She had actually attempted to fake her orgasm. He couldn’t believe

it. He slid his fingers slowly from the fisted grip of her pussy, feeling the ripples of

regret in the soft tissue as he retreated and fought to tamp down his anger.

He couldn’t believe she had dared anything so reckless, so completely unneeded, as

what she had just done. Rather than giving in to her own desires, her body’s demand

that she release the control she prized so highly, she had instead staged an orgasm so

blatantly false that he wanted to paddle her ass for even attempting it.

Lucian raised his eyes, keeping his gaze hooded as he looked up at her. She was

staring at the ceiling, her expression tense, her body taut with both unfulfilled desire

and nerves.

She had a right to be nervous. His eyes met Devril’s; in them he saw the same anger

he could feel growing inside himself.

“Let me go now.” Cool, calm, as though she hadn’t just begged them to fuck her,

hadn’t been trembling in their arms as she fought for her release.

He nodded slowly to his brother, watching as the large hands slid away from the

dusky, passion-flushed breasts they had covered. Her nipples were hard, reddened, her

arousal in no way abated. She had cheated not just him and Devril, but herself as well,

in such a manner that he wondered how often she had done it before. It was a practiced,

well-versed move. One that a man of lesser experience might not have caught. But

Lucian had caught it, and though now wasn’t the time to force her past the control she

was fighting so hard to maintain, he vowed that soon he would push her past that and

more.

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Wicked Intent

Lucian moved back from her slowly, coming to his feet as she stumbled away from

Devril. Jerking her blouse from the back of the chair, she quickly pulled it over her

arms. Her hands were trembling; her long hair was tangled and mussed, her cheeks

flushed with both anger and need. She kept her head lowered, but from her profile he

could see the emotions chasing across her face, the fear and vulnerability, the fight for

control. Her and her fucking control. He’d had enough of it.

“Do you think I’m that big of a fool, Tally?” he asked her softly.

She paused in her attempts to button her shirt, freezing before him, searching

desperately for explanations, he could tell.

“Don’t bother lying to me, Tally.” He lifted her chin with his hand, staring into

those incredible brown eyes and for the first time, seeing a vulnerability he hadn’t

suspected her of. “Tell me why.”

She swallowed tightly before jerking away from him and quickly securing the

remaining buttons of her shirt as she pushed her feet into her shoes.

“I’m leaving.” Her voice was husky, remnants of desire and shades of fear

shadowing it. “I won’t be back.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as Devril moved to her.

“Do you really think running is going to help, Tally?” Dev asked her gently. Lucian

could sense his brother’s need for action, to ease her, to take away the pain and fear

they could both see in her face.

Her head rose, fury engulfing her expression for one shattering moment before cool

mockery overcame it.

“Such arrogance,” she said imperiously. “I’m not running, I’m merely disinterested

now. You tried, you failed. Too bad, so sad.” She shrugged negligently. “No harm

done.”

Then she raised her head proudly and though Lucian could sense her need to make

a graceful exit, she was practically running for the door.

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Lora Leigh

“Tally, do you really think this is over?” He followed her, pausing in the doorway

and watching as she jerked her purse from the desk.

As she turned back to speak to him the outer door opened and Jesse and Terrie

walked in before stopping and staring at Tally in amazement. Dev watched fleeting

horror cross her face before she rushed past them and out of the office.

“Dammit.” Devril cursed furiously as he started through the door.

“Wait,” Lucian cautioned him. “Let her go for now.”

“What the hell has happened here?” Terrie turned from the door, anger filling her

face. “What did you do to her?”

“Not nearly enough, I would suspect.” Lucian pushed his fingers wearily through

his hair as he turned back to Devril. “Make sure she gets home okay. I’ll be there later.”

“You shouldn’t have let her leave,” Devril snapped, his green eyes coldly furious.

“Dammit, Lucian, she was in no shape to be walking out of here.”

“She was in no condition to fight.” Lucian sighed. “Follow her home. We’ll decide

what to do later.”

Devril stalked from the offices and Lucian turned back to face Jesse and Terrie’s

concern.

“You and I need to talk,” he told Terrie. “There are obviously a few details about

your friend Tally that you neglected to mention in the past few months. I think it would

be a good idea if you mentioned them now.”

* * * * *

She had made such a fool of herself. Tally accelerated out of the company parking

lot, barely missing an incoming employee as she rounded the curve and headed for the

freeway.

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Wicked Intent

She breathed in deeply, fighting the excess emotion straining to be free. She needed

to scream or rage or something. It had never been like that. Never before had an orgasm

completely eluded her in such a way. They were often not satisfying, barely taking the

edge off the hunger that strained inside her, but rarely had she failed to achieve any

relief at all, and with such horrifying results. They had known. Her fingers clenched on

the steering wheel as fear and humiliation swept over her. They were aware that she

had faked the release; that she had been unable to achieve her orgasm despite the fierce,

exacting pleasure sweeping through her body.

God, it had felt so good. Their hands, their mouths, Lucian’s lips at her clit, his

tongue raking the little gold ring that pierced it. The pleasure had been unlike anything

she had known in her life, sweeping through her, sensitizing every nerve and cell in her

body until the need for release had consumed her. Yet the harder she had reached for it,

the farther away it seemed.

She was burning now. Her skirt was hopelessly stained with her own juices, she

knew, and horribly wrinkled. Wrinkles were a sign of sloppiness, both of mind and of

appearance; the sisters of the Catholic school she had once attended had lectured that

point to her constantly. Her blouse wasn’t even buttoned straight. She clenched her

teeth against the overwhelming urge to scream out her mortification.

Years—years of careful control, of watching every move she made, controlling

every hidden impulse and presenting an appearance of unshakable calm had been

destroyed at the hands of the two men who now knew her most shameful secret.

She needed the pain.

A low growl of fury passed her lips before she throttled it back and once again

forcibly controlled her inborn fury. They were dominants, for pity’s sake. Trojans. Part

of the much whispered about Club. They liked their sex wild and rough, their women

submissive and screaming, not whimpering from the gentleness of their touch. Of all

the men she had thought could bring her to mind-blowing orgasm, she had thought

Lucian and Devril surely could.

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Lora Leigh

The drive to the upscale apartment complex where she lived was made in record

time. She refused to admit she was speeding. She never broke the law. It was a point of

pride for her. Just as an unwrinkled skirt, smooth hair and unblemished skin were

points of pride. One’s inner person was reflected in the way she carried herself, how she

handled hardships. She grimaced at the thought. Why were those old, harshly worded

lectures tormenting her now? The good sisters of the St. Augustine’s Academy were a

part of her past, or so she had tried to convince herself.

Tally, only whores wear skirts above their knees. You must rise above such

hedonistic impulses. Your parents deserve so much more than such a disrespectful

child…

What shame you bring to your parents, Tally. Such disgrace…

If your mind must become the Devil’s playground, the least you could do is give an

outward appearance of decency. Even the prostitutes that stroll the streets show more

decorum…

She shook her head, parking the car and heading quickly for the cool silence of her

apartment. She needed a shower. A cold shower. She needed to forget that she was

different, that her needs were so depraved that even a Trojan couldn’t fulfill them.

Cool silence greeted her as she entered her apartment. It was dim, perfectly neat

and spotless, and so cold. Tally stared at the desert tones of the living room. Despite the

warm colors, the room was cold, sterile and unwelcoming, just like her life.

Her fists clenched as she fought back the need to move something, anything. To

scatter the potpourri filling the jade vase across the floor. To shatter the crystal against

the wall. She wanted to destroy the very essence of what her life had become. Sterile.

Unlived and unloved.

“Stop it.” She breathed in roughly, pushing herself away from the door and striding

quickly through the room. The dining room was no different. The heavy oak table had

never known a spot of food spilled on it. She couldn’t remember the last time she had

used the stove in the kitchen.

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Wicked Intent

The dark hardwood floor didn’t have so much as a stain on it and her carpets, even

after five years, appeared in flawless condition. Her bedroom… She stepped into the

room and stared around it silently. There was no life here. No memories. Not even

sullied ones. She had never brought a lover to her home, had never fouled her bedroom

with the unnatural desires that twisted through her mind.

She had never realized how perfectly the good sisters had conditioned her. She had

never known how empty her life had become until now. Until she had been forced to

walk—no she hadn’t walked, she had run—from something she hadn’t realized she

needed. Lucian and Devril.

She walked over to the bed, her hand smoothing stiffly over the white bedspread,

fighting to ignore the compulsion to clench her fingers into the fabric and rip it to the

floor.

Enough. She straightened her shoulders and turned, forcing herself to walk

sedately into the bathroom. She undressed, stuffed the skirt and blouse into the

wastebasket before dropping the demi-bra in after it.

She twisted on the cold water to the shower, watching the pounding spray run into

the glass cubicle before stepping beneath it. Her breath caught as ice seemed to envelop

her skin, pouring through her hair, over her face, stealing her breath. Washing away the

proof of the hot tears that finally fell.

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Lora Leigh

Self-control, that much sought after, often sadly lamented virtue, should not have

the destructive, unforgiving undertones that Dev had glimpsed in Tally’s wounded

brown eyes. It shouldn’t cause a passionate, vibrant woman to deny the very heart of

her sexuality, nor leave her sobbing beneath the force of a shower whose chill could be

felt outside the glass cubicle she stood within. But that was exactly what it had done.

Dev and Lucian had known for quite some time that Tally Raines was unique, a

challenge unlike any woman they had known in their lives. The fact that they had

slowly, over the past year, fallen in love with her, wasn’t the point. They had seen in her

a strength of will that often mirrored their own, and a loneliness that echoed in their

chests.

He and Lucian had, despite all appearances, lived a quiet, often lonely life. The

bond they shared was more intense than most other twins, stemming, he thought, from

the fact that they were fraternal rather than identical twins. The first years of their lives

they had been largely separated by their divorced parents, seeing each other only

occasionally and even then the visits had been brief. Only with the death of their

mother after their tenth birthday had they finally been given the chance to know one

another. From that moment on they had been inseparable.

Dev was the quiet one. The one everyone rarely paid much heed to. He preferred to

watch the foibles of men and quietly learn from other’s mistakes. Lucian was the more