For the first time since he had entered the sexual, carnal atmosphere of sharing his women, Ian felt a pang of remorse. Remorse because he knew he could never truly be happy, sexually, without the excesses he had come to enjoy. And because he knew innocence such as Courtney’s could never survive within it.
Sighing wearily, he picked his pants from the floor and pulled them on over his underwear quickly before fastening them. Jerking his shirt over his shoulders seconds later, he strode to the door and opened it silently before leaving Courtney’s room.
It was too late to go back, and he knew it. Hell, he didn’t want to go back. Fucking her had been more pleasure than he had imagined it could be. Seeing her uninhibited response had spiked his arousal further. The challenge she presented kicked his sexuality into overdrive.
She had won this round.
He had lost control.
He smiled coldly as he entered his own room and headed for the shower. The next round would be his though. She thought emotion was the basis for sex. For her, it always would be. He had learned years ago though, to never allow emotion to interfere with the sensual side he possessed. The potential for pain was just too great.
He could enjoy a woman, pleasure one and be pleasured by them. His sex drive was, at times, all-consuming. It was his greatest hunger. And somehow, Courtney had managed to tap into an area of that sexuality that he had been unaware of. His affection for her and his knowledge of her innocence was a heady aphrodisiac for some unknown reason. He couldn’t figure out why, had never been able to understand why she could make him so hard, so damned fast and so hungry for her that even his fantasies became filled with her.
As the hot, soothing water of the shower pelted over his skin, he closed his eyes, remembering her hands, her mouth, the wickedness in her eyes. There was so much he could show her, so many ways to pleasure that he could teach her, without stealing the innocent joy he saw in her gaze. He didn’t have to share her. There was no need to dim that purity with his more extreme desires.
For a moment, the memory of her dark, laughter-filled brown eyes was replaced with hazel, staring sightlessly, accusingly up at him.
His jaw clenched.
Opening his eyes he hurriedly finished the quick shower before drying and padding back to his bed. He wanted nothing more than to join Courtney in her bed. To pull the warmth of her body close and hold her as he slept.
He threw himself into his own bed instead, growling at the thought of the many ways he would never get any sleep if he did anything so foolish.
Yet, as he stared up at the ceiling, a frown creasing his brow, he found himself fighting the urge to do just that, rather than to sleep.
You’re so depraved, Ian. I sold my soul into hell to be your woman. To what end? This is my end.
The words haunted him. Written words signed in blood.
Yes. He was depraved. He was well aware of the extremity of his tastes, and he had made certain his lovers were well aware of it as well. He had never pretended to be anything other than what he was. Yet, it seemed he paid daily for one mistake, for allowing his emotions to cloud the sex and failing to see the danger his lifestyle could pose to another.
She had been young. Hell, he had been young.
Her name had been Melissa. Melissa Gaines. And she had killed herself because of him, because of his hungers, his depravities. Because he had taken an innocent and introduced her to the lifestyle that had drawn him so fiercely.
He had wanted to please her. Had wanted to show her all the pleasures he knew could await her. Hell, he had thought he had loved her. He had swiftly learned the difference between a woman of experience and one too innocent to call a halt to what she saw as nothing more than a game to secure his heart.
He had shared her. He had touched her, glorying in her cries of pleasure, her pleas for more, whispering his praise, drawing her to him as her orgasms shuddered through her body. And he had thought nothing else could be as good. That he couldn’t love any woman as much as he loved Melissa. Until he walked into his apartment the next day to find her lifeless body, her accusation written on a single sheet of paper beside her.
It hadn’t mattered that she had a history of psychiatric problems, or that he had been unaware of them. Even her father’s forgiveness and his tearful explanations of his daughter’s weaknesses hadn’t stemmed the guilt. She had died because she couldn’t handle what he had asked of her. Because she had wanted his love so desperately that she would do something that she couldn’t live with in the cold light of day.
And he had sworn it would never happen again.
Innocence would never suffer at his hands again.
And here was Courtney. So damned innocent he couldn’t believe she wasn’t a virgin. So daring, wickedly so, yet as soft and new as dawn. She was as different as day from night to Melissa. Yet, she served as a cold reminder to the mistakes of the past.
* * * * *
One would think, that with the extremely explosive orgasm the night before, and the fact that she had finally managed to push Ian that final step into a physical relationship, that she would feel some sort of satisfaction.
She felt only remorse.
Courtney sat silently in the bleak, winter-shrouded garden, perched on the top of the cement table that a summer growth of greenery would have hidden from view. Now, it sat like a lonely sentinel in a garden that was presently sleeping the short, dreary cold days away.
Her feet were propped on the curved bench below it, one arm lying across her knees as she propped the elbow of the other on her leg and braced her chin within it to stare across the silent gardens into the pine forest beyond.
The thick cashmere sweater she wore and snug jeans protected her from the outside cold, but it was the chilly foreboding within her that caused her to shiver.