Bound To Protect (Crescent City Kings)

by Anya Summers

  Sabrina joined them and they ate in silence for a few minutes before Michael finally had to ask, “So what’s this Dante was saying about fantasies?”

  Dante looked at him over Sabrina’s head. “Our girl has a bit of kinky side. Tell him, love, what you told me a little while ago.”

  Sabrina set her wine glass down and glanced Michael’s way, but still didn’t meet his gaze. “He was asking how I was feeling, physically, and if anything was sore today.”

  “Basically, no dice on her ass. She’s still sore there, but the rest of her is good to go,” Dante filled in.

  Michael nodded. “It’s to be expected, given it was your first time. Tell me more about this fantasy though.”

  She looked down at her hands in her lap and said, “I’ve always had this fantasy about having my hands restrained and being blindfolded, while more than one guy… um…” Her cheeks flushed.

  “Fucked you?” Michael asked.

  Holy shit, was she for real? Their little maid had fantasies that lent themselves toward bondage and submission? How had they not seen this? How had he missed this? Was he that used to having people work for him and not giving them a second thought or paying attention to them? It left him reeling. He was a sanctimonious asshole, whose blue blood had made him overlook someone like Sabrina.

  “Yes. And I was wondering if we could try that tonight?” she asked, her hands clasped in her lap, her body dwarfed between them.

  She really was a small thing. Possessiveness whipped through Michael. She wasn’t lying. He glanced at his best friend for confirmation that he wasn’t seeing something that wasn’t there. Dante just nodded with a yep, she’s that fucking incredible look on his face.

  Michael gripped her chin and brought her gaze up to his. Her green eyes were bright with an edge of panic, as if she thought he would laugh or cast her out. “Babe, listen to me. When it comes to Dante and me, we’re game for pretty much anything. And I must admit, your fantasy is hot as hell, and I believe I can speak for Dante too when I say: eat up, and do it quick. Because we plan to deliver your fantasy in spades afterward.”

  She bit her succulent lower lip and nodded.

  He released her chin and said, “Good. Now eat up. You’re going to need your strength with giving the two of us an all access pass.”

  The three of them finished their meal in silence. Michael wondered if Dante was right, whether she could be the woman they’d been searching for all along. And she’d been under their noses this entire time.

  It was over an hour before they headed into the bedroom. Once everyone was finished with dinner, Sabrina made them wait while she stored leftovers, put dishes into the dishwasher and got that started, and wiped down the counters to remove any lingering food debris from dinner.

  “If you would like to visit the bathroom, love, do it now or forever hold your peace,” Dante murmured.

  “And you might as well strip while you’re in there. We want you naked and bound in five minutes,” Michael added.

  “All right,” she replied, and headed past them into the bathroom.

  They were giving her the fantasy she’d touched herself to, that she had imagined when she came. Her belly fluttered in heady eagerness—along with a smattering of fear, because what if it didn’t live up to her expectations and dreams?

  Still, if her first time was anything to go by, this evening would exceed her expectations. And that worried her just as much as it being the opposite. Because if they continued to set the bar that high, would there ever be another man who would be able to reach it? Or would this time with them—being with them—forever alter her ability to have a satisfying relationship?

  She had no idea.

  A whole new world had opened for her last night. It was sensual and addictive. Sabrina stripped out of her clothes then took a look at herself in the mirror. There was light bruising on her hips and breasts from last night. She didn’t understand why it thrilled her to see those marks. It didn’t make sense, other than it was proof that it hadn’t been a fantasy or a dream. That it had happened. That she had soaked in a hot bath with both men afterward, who had deemed she had experienced enough for one night, and made her go to bed shortly thereafter.

  “Sabrina,” Dante said with a knock on the door.

  “Coming,” she replied.

  When she opened the door, it was to find both Dante and Michael stripped down to their boxers. It really was like looking at an angel and the devil. One was dark, whereas the other was light, both with honed, muscular bodies that made her want to fan her face. They had defined pectorals and six pack abs, ripped obliques, and broad shoulders that seemed to be hewn from stone.

  “Fuck, love, I just adore your lush little body. Ready?” Dante asked, holding a hand out for her to take.

  Every woman should be so lucky as to have a man—or, in this case, men—who were willing to give them their fantasy. Taking a deep breath for courage, Sabrina placed her hand in his. Warmth and desire turned his chocolate gaze molten as he closed his fingers around hers.

  Dante drew her over to the bed where Michael was standing and said, “Let me see your hands.”

  She held them out. Michael took her left hand first and then slipped a ring on her third finger. A square cut diamond large enough to take an eye out winked up at her. Her breath expelled in a rush at the gem, the ring, at making the fake engagement official.

  “I figured we should get that out of the way first. Anytime you’re out, whether with me or Dante, it needs to be on your finger. Now, we’re going to have you wear our cuffs,” Michael murmured, and circled her left wrist with the softest black leather imaginable. The interior was lined with material soft as silk. Considering who the cuffs belonged to, it very well could be real silk.

  Dante did the same with her right wrist, and Sabrina noticed the initials engraved into each cuff. The left one said MF, and the right, DR. It was their initials. She was admiring them along with the twinkling of the diamond ring when a black blindfold was slipped over her eyes, cutting off her vision.

  Her breath backed up in her lungs.

  This was really happening. Without a word, one of them picked her up and settled her onto the bed. Hands drew her arms up and out to the sides, forming a Y. She heard the click as the cuffs were connected to an unseen rope.

  “Your safeword is red. Use it if you need us to stop, and we will. Understood?” Dante said.

  “Yes.”

  “You may not be a submissive, but in the bedroom you will address us as Sir or Master,” Michael murmured.

  She jerked her head, wondering what she had gotten herself into. “Yes, Sir.”

  Weight depressed the mattress as they joined her in bed on either side. With her sight removed, Sabrina couldn’t tell which one was where. Hands fondled her breasts, rolled the nipples, and plucked at the buds in a bruising manner.

  She moaned. Lips brushed against hers—once, twice, in whisper soft caresses before crushing her mouth and plundering. The abrupt shift left her reeling. She returned the kiss, her arms straining against the bonds, at the sudden influx of lava into her veins at the thought that with the restraints, they could do whatever they wanted.

  While one man kissed her, the other latched his mouth around her breast. She cried out, her moan devoured by male lips. But then they switched, just as she was getting comfortable, sliding into a rhythm with each one.

  The change up sent her spiraling.

  Then her mouth was empty as both men sucked on a breast. If you’ve never had two men worshiping your body, and a hot, hungry mouth sucking on each nipple, you don’t know what you’re missing, she thought, because god, she was consumed by them. Hands slid down her torso. They drew her thighs wide apart to toy with her sex. One hand teased her clitoris, rubbing lazy circles around the nub, while the other slid two thick fingers inside her channel and thrust them in and out.

  The movement and overload of stimulation hurtled her into a blinding climax.

  “Ah
hh,” she wailed, her hips jerking beneath their hands.

  One man moved down, settled himself between her thighs, and licked her sex, lapping at the cream from her first orgasm like a big jungle cat. The other continued to fondle and suck on her tits.

  The man eating her out seemed to revel in it, and didn’t give her body time to come down from one climax before her body quaked and her back arched with the onslaught of another. Then the men switched. She felt the rough patch of beard against her thigh and thought: Michael.

  So Dante was on her right and had given her oral first, with Michael on her left. As he thrust his tongue inside her weeping sex, Sabrina simply let go. Her body became fluid, taking the incredible pleasure and floating in it. The waves beat against her as her core tightened, drawing inward for the next implosion. Her skin felt three sizes too small, and she knew beyond any doubt that this night was already beyond her wildest fantasies.

  The orgasm ripped through her on the next thrust of Michael’s tongue. She trembled and quaked as she came. Her sex felt swollen. But she was also left with the lingering need for more.

  Michael and Dante moved. The bed shifted. The sound of foil packets ripping reached her ears. One man posed himself between her thighs, the head of his cock pressing at her opening. With a grunt, he slid inside until he was embedded in her pussy. He gave her body a moment only to adjust to his fullness before drawing back and stroking deep.

  Hands pressed down on the mattress beside her shoulders and he proceeded to fuck her. This was not the gentle entrance into lovemaking like the previous night. This was carnal—elemental, even. This was fucking: impersonal, hard, and fast.

  And she loved every single damn minute of it.

  He pounded her flesh. His grunts reached her ears. She rocked her hips, meeting his fervid thrusts, on the precipice of another climax.

  He withdrew completely.

  She whimpered. But before she’d finished complaining, the next man was taking his place and plowing inside her with such force, she came apart.

  “Oh god!” she cried as she came.

  He didn’t give her body any time. This man fucked her just as hard and roughly. Sabrina gritted her teeth, feeling downright feral. This was everything she had imagined, and so much more. She never wanted it to stop. Pieces of her soul that she’d thought had died long ago, the ones infused with hope, seemed to revive, and slid back into place as the two men screwed her brains out.

  Because, even though it was make believe, they seemed to be exactly what she had needed all along.

  The man slammed home, and she came with a wail, her body quaking as they changed over once again. She was delirious and thoroughly impressed with their stamina as they switched back and forth. How did they do it without climaxing?

  She had orgasmed so many times she had lost count.

  But then the tenor changed as they switched again. His thrusts were fast and furious. He crowded her body as he pounded her pussy, his chest flush against hers.

  “Oh god,” she keened as she came. She felt him strain; his cock jerked inside her as he groaned, and she thought: Dante.

  Then Michael picked up right after Dante rolled off her and lay by her side. Michael held her close, his face buried beside her neck, his breathing harsh as he rode her body into another universe. When her climax hit and she felt him find his release, she could only think: finally.

  He thrust again and again as he came, until every drop of pleasure had been drained from their combined orgasms. He lay there for a moment before rolling off her. Someone undid the cuffs and brought her arms down. The blindfold was lifted from her eyes.

  She opened her eyes while sleep pulled at her.

  “Sleep, love,” Dante murmured, and planted a gentle kiss on her brow.

  She nodded, curled into him when he drew her against his side with her head resting on his shoulder, and slid into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Yawning behind her hand, Sabrina tried to settle her anxiety as the pilot announced they were getting ready to land at the Burbank airport.

  There had been a flurry of activity to get them to the airport on time, and all before she had had a cup of coffee. She had dressed appropriately, as this was the first major outing of many in which she would be called to perform as Michael’s fiancée, in vermouth linen slacks and an eggshell silk blouse. To spare her feet, she had chosen a pair of pointed flats in a black and white checkered pattern. As for accessories: she stared at the huge diamond sitting on the third finger of her left hand. It sparkled from the lights gleaming on Michael’s private Lear jet. The square cut gem with its platinum band, combined with her manicured nails, made her hand appear elegant. No one would suspect that a week ago, she had been scrubbing floors and considering stripping as a way to make money.

  Michael sat across from her in one of the luxurious ivory leather seats behind a mahogany desktop, and began putting files away into his black leather briefcase. His salmon linen dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, displaying his corded muscles.

  It still unsettled her, being with just him. Which was ridiculous. They had slept together.

  Twice. He’d kissed, licked, and sucked on various parts of her body. And yet the thought of it being just the two of them for the next forty-eight hours left her anxiety sky high.

  When he caught her staring, his lips twitched, and he raised a golden brow. “Problem?”

  “No. Just wondering what the schedule is going to be like,” she replied, mindful not to nibble on her bottom lip and mess up her lipstick.

  “Well, I have a spate of meetings at the studio. We can get ourselves checked into the hotel and I figured, if you wanted, you could go shopping.”

  She grimaced at that thought. More shopping? She hated to admit it but she was shopped out.

  “Do you not like shopping?” he asked.

  “No, I do, but I’ve done quite a bit of it in the last few days. I think I’m on shopping overload.”

  “Well, if you wanted to do some sightseeing, I can have the driver take you wherever you would like to go. You will have a bodyguard with you, as well. He’s from a reputable firm, and a member of a lifestyle club I’m affiliated with in Pasadena.”

  “Can I go with you to the studio?” she asked, because as much as he made her nervous, this was her first trip anywhere. Ever. She had never been out of New Orleans and the surrounding area. Never been to another state or ridden in an airplane. There were a lot of firsts happening, and she worried about what it would be like in a city she didn’t know.

  “You want to sit in meetings with me all day?”

  “Well, no, I just thought I could see where it is you work.” She shrugged, feeling inexperienced and rather inept. She was just here to be eye candy, that was it.

  “I think I could arrange a tour for you. But it won’t take all day. If you just want to relax at the hotel, you may. And then tonight, I figured I would take you to dinner. I have a reservation at the latest hotspot in Beverly Hills.”

  “All right, that works for me.” She had to stop keeping herself from living. Hadn’t she spent her nights dreaming about getting to experience life, to travel and see unique sights? Now was her chance. She bet most people didn’t experience their first airplane flight on a luxurious private Lear jet that had a full bedroom, with a king-sized bed and a shower.

  “Good. Tomorrow morning will be a bit more laid back. We’ll have some time to relax before getting ready for the premiere in the evening.”

  “Sounds fun,” she replied, still marginally worried about the Hollywood movie event. She was going to be rubbing elbows with movie stars. Like she would have anything to say to them.

  Once they’d landed, Michael escorted her to a waiting black stretch limo on the tarmac.

  “Sabrina, this is Marco Ramirez. Marco, my fiancée, Sabrina.” Michael introduced her to the gentleman in a refined black suit who looked like he benched semis for fun. His inky hair was cut military short, and she cou
ldn’t help but notice that his arms stretched the material of his suit and looked like small tree trunks.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Sabrina. I will be with you all day, and make sure you get wherever it is you need to go today.”

  “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you,” she murmured as they climbed into the limo.

  Michael added, “Sabrina is going to do a tour of the studio first. I’m going to call the hotel and ask them to check me in over the phone—that way, if she decides she wants to head back to rest a bit, she can.”

  “Not a problem, Mister Fitzgerald,” Marco said from his seat opposite them.

  Michael fielded calls on his phone while Sabrina gazed at the palm trees and sunshine. It was warm here, but without the humidity that was present in Louisiana.

  At the studio lot, they drove through a private gate with a guard present, who greeted Michael with a, “Welcome back, sir.” Michael really was handsome, and while he was direct, and expected excellence from his employees, he was also kind. There was arrogance in there as well, but that was more from knowing his place in the world and not apologizing for it. He respected hard work. And it reflected in his work ethic. He didn’t rest on his laurels, even with the threat to one of his companies.

  They were whisked inside by a smiling brunette wearing a phone headset. She talked rapidly and held a tablet computer as she read off a list of items on the agenda.

  “Sarah, this is my fiancée, Sabrina,” Michael said, and Sarah covered her surprise quickly as he continued. “If you could arrange for a tour of the studio for her, I would appreciate it.”

  “Absolutely, let me contact Kate, and she’ll take care of everything,” Sarah replied, apparently already on the line with Kate.

  Michael said, “If you need anything, just ask Marco.” He nodded at the bodyguard who followed discreetly behind them. “Wherever you would like to go after the tour, he and the driver will take you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Michael nodded. “And then I’ll see you at the hotel this evening. Be ready for dinner by six-thirty.”