Lora Leigh - Wicked Intent

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.

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.

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.

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 social brother. He thrived amid the high paced, often stressful career he had chosen and gloried in the challenges they presented. Dev was more content to work behind the scenes, to coordinate and see the projects through rather than forging into the fray and doing battle with competitors who would have taken the more lucrative contracts.

It was for this reason that Dev had stood aside and allowed Lucian to begin the first wave of sensual assaults against Tally. She was attracted to both of them, they had both known that from the beginning, though he doubted at that time that she was aware of the carefully plotted seduction and downfall they had arranged for her.

How easily their plans had blown up in their faces. Dev stood outside the shower, leaning against the wall, head lowered, listening to the faint sounds of her sobs. They had made her cry.

He shook his head at that thought. No, they hadn’t made her cry; she had allowed her demands for self-control to cheat her out of the orgasm that had been building within her body. Those same demands had sent her running from them, sent her scrambling to pull the tattered shreds of her pride around her and retreat as quickly as possible from the two men who had seen her downfall.

He moved carefully, slowly, from the bathroom. He didn’t want to alert her of his presence, that in her turmoil she had forgotten to lock her front door and had given easy access to one of the men, he knew, she considered the enemy.

He paced to the bedroom and began preparing it for her. Lucian would arrive later, but for now, Dev was in control and Tally might have figured out how to handle his brother, but she had no idea how to handle him.

He smiled at the thought as he attached restraints to the four corner posts of her bed. The soft nylon wrist and ankle cables would allow just enough freedom of movement to ensure her pleasure while holding her in place so he could assure her freedom from the strict demands of her self-control.

He put several other articles on the bedside table. A tube of lubrication gel, an inflatable butt plug and a thick vibrating gel dildo were laid to one side. Next came a set of vibrating nipple clamps and a small ball gag.

He glanced toward the door as the sounds of falling water ceased. She would be entering the room within minutes, unaware of his presence, her control shaky at best, off balance. He had a feeling that if he gave her the chance to renew that control then they would all lose. Tally wouldn’t allow herself a chance to fail a second time. She would pull that cool mockery and cold demeanor around her like a cloak of protection and forever keep him and Lucian at arm’s length. He couldn’t allow that. He wouldn’t allow that.

Taking his seat in a comfortable chair across the room, he sat back and waited. His cock was throbbing; so damned hard and engorged he was amazed he could walk. If he had ever had an erection so demanding with another woman, he couldn’t remember it.

The shower door opened, closed. Minutes later the sound of a hair dryer could be heard and Dev sat back to wait. Tally’s hair was long and thick, a sensuous silken skein of midnight-black that fell to her hips and made his hands itch to touch it. It had to be hell to dry, though. He would have loved to stand behind her, wielding the dryer, watching the cool strands slowly dry beneath the heat of the device. Instead, he sat and waited. The fireworks to come would be hot enough; he didn’t have to tempt an early explosion.

Long minutes later the hair dryer flipped off. Dev sat up straighter in the chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched the doorway. Tally walked through it slowly, her characteristic, sensual glide a little less relaxed than it usually was. Her long hair fell down her back, caressing her hips, but the rest of her body was bare. Bare and perfect.

Gold glittered at her nipples and winked at him between her perfect thighs as she came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the floor.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Her eyes nearly glowed in furious heat, her dusky cheeks flushing with anger.

Dev’s brows rose in surprise. Her voice was gritty with emotion, her body fairly trembling with it. This was not the cool, self-possessed siren that had haunted his dreams for so long. This was better. More than he could have expected.

He propped his ankle on his knee, leaning back in the chair as she jerked a long, cream-colored silk robe from the smaller chair by her bed table and pulled it on with quick, angry movements. She still had yet to notice the restraints or the sexual devices on the table.

“Leave,” she snapped as she belted the robe around her slender waist. “Now.” Dev sighed heartily. “I’m not Lucian, Tally. Your anger doesn’t bother me as it does him.”

Lucian, despite his often sarcastic attitude in the face of her normally cold temper, had that basic male trepidation when it came to prodding at an unpredictable female.

Unlike his brother, it was an art Dev had perfected in his youth and had steadily applied over the years.

“Does jail bother you?” She crossed her arms under her breasts as she stared back at him heatedly. “Breaking and entering is illegal.”

“The door was unlocked,” he informed her, watching in satisfaction as her eyes widened in shock.

He could read her emotions as clearly as a book now. The cold mockery had been stripped away, leaving bare the woman beneath as she stared back at him with haunting, shadowed emotion.

“I don’t care if it was standing wide open.” She showed her teeth in a snarl that made his dick jerk in arousal. “Pick your ass up and get out.” Oh, now there was the Tally he knew existed beneath the carefully polished exterior. Vibrant, explosive, her temper was more than a match for the dominance that pulsed thick and hot through his and Lucian’s blood.

He came slowly to his feet, watching her carefully.

“You honestly believe that little performance earlier isn’t going to be addressed, Tally?” he asked her, keeping his voice soft, though he did nothing to hide the annoyance that throbbed beneath it. “You should have expected one of us to show up ready to do battle, if not both.”