by Anya Summers
“It’s good. Strong. Much stronger than I thought it would be.”
“You don’t have to drink all of it. Especially if we’re going to have you try champagne later on tonight. We don’t want you getting a thick head for tomorrow. A trick you might want to consider, since you seem to be new to wine and the like, is after a sip or two of wine, switch to water, and then back again.”
“Oh, good advice. I will try that. Thank you. So was your day of meetings successful?” she asked as the waiter brought in their salads.
“It was; we were able to get a lot of business out of the way. It means we’ll have all day together. If there’s anything you would like to do, we can—in the morning, at least.”
“I’d like to sleep past four am,” she admitted.
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” he said. Because he would like her to as well, but not alone.
Michael opened the penthouse suite door and ushered Sabrina inside. He had enjoyed the night —more than he’d thought he would. Anyone looking in on them would have believed they were a couple. He had laid on the romance rather thick but she had responded to it, opening up to him. And as the night progressed, she’d relaxed with him.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said over her shoulder as she stood by the couch and sighed as she removed her heels. He didn’t know why, but as much as he got a kick out of her in her outfit with the heels, Sabrina barefoot stirred him.
“You’re welcome. Although, it was just dinner, and served a larger purpose,” Michael said, but then softened his response with, “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. The waiter and chef were certainly eating out of your hand by the end.” It was true, a Michelin-starred chef had all but wept at her praise. It had been quite the sight to behold.
“Well, when I taste something that extraordinary, I don’t think it should go unsaid. I can cook.”
“Which Dante and I can attest to,” he added.
“I appreciate it, but what we had back there was top notch, truly some of the best food I’ve ever tasted and put in my mouth.” She laid her purse on the table.
“You should try some of the restaurants in Paris or Italy. That was good. But there’s this one Mom and Pop place in Italy that is so good it will make your taste buds weep for joy. And this little diner along the Rhine that is a decadent delight.”
“Maybe I’ll go there one day,” she said with a small smile playing over her lips.
“Maybe Dante and I will take you.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Would you like to try that champagne?” he asked, wanting to see if they could continue the night a little. He had to admit, if only to himself, the pleasure he felt at watching her try new things and enjoy them.
“Yes, I would. But wait right here while I get your gift,” she said, rubbing her hands together before she hurried into the bedroom.
Bemused by her antics and excitement over giving him a present, Michael opened the champagne, pouring some into the two crystal glasses he’d had the staff place beside the bucket earlier that day. Sabrina strode back into the living room with a white box in her hands. Intrigued, Michael held a glass out for her to take.
“Try it, and let me know what you think.”
She held out his gift. “Open it first. And then I will.”
They did an exchange so that he held the package and she stood, holding the flute, exuberance bubbling off her. With care, he removed the bow and lifted the lid, then moved the white tissue paper aside. He stared at the gift and considered the thought she must have put into purchasing the book. It was The Complete Poems of Robert Frost.
“This is great.” He wasn’t going to mention that he had it already, and had read it cover to cover.
“Look inside,” she said, practically dancing on her feet.
Lifting the hardcover, he sucked in a breath. “It’s a first edition that’s been signed by him. How did you… where did you find this?”
“In this little second-hand bookstore in Santa Monica. The guy had it behind a glass display. And at the bottom of the box, there’s a certificate of authenticity verifying that it’s a signed first edition.”
He was beyond touched that she would go to such lengths for something that was this personal. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do this, but I love it.”
“Really?” She beamed, and her pleasure at his enjoyment hit all the right chords. She was made for submission. It was in every line and curve of her being. In the radiance of joy that her gift had brought not just him, but her.
She sipped the champagne.
“What do you think?” he asked, studying her expression.
“That it tastes like joy and sunshine. You really like it, though, the book?”
Michael took the flute from her hands and set it out of the way on the table. Dante had told him to charm Sabrina, but he was the one who had been charmed.
“Yeah, I really do,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hands.
Her smile slipped and a shiver ran through her. Those big blue eyes filled with longing she was unable, or perhaps unskilled enough, to hide. “I know Dante’s not here, but I would like very much to take you to bed.”
She licked her lips. “I want that too.”
Need unfurled inside him at her words. Michael lowered his mouth, kept his gaze trained on her face, and brushed his lips over hers. He scrutinized her reaction as her eyes slid shut and she leaned into him because tonight, he wanted to learn her body, figuring out what made her writhe. And her response was all the encouragement he needed. Her innocence and inexperience tasted like honeyed sin. The small moan she emitted on a sigh, yanked at the tether he’d kept over his control all day long with the public kisses.
With his kiss, he showed her how much he wanted her, how much he was moved by her thoughtful gift, and made her a promise to not merely seduce, but show her what it meant to be ravished, what it meant to be craved. He couldn’t deny that the taste of her sent his head spinning, and need curling in his gut.
It had been ages since he had been with a woman alone, without any spectators or his partner in crime. He gripped her hair and tugged her head back, exposing the slim column of her neck to his voracious appetite.
Michael had no idea where this desire for her came from, but he couldn’t deny its existence as it pushed against the constraints of his control. He wanted to inhale her, taste every square inch of her flesh, watch her come undone by his hands alone. Scooping her up in his arms, never breaking his kiss, he carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed with his foot. He didn’t break stride until he set her down on her feet beside the bed in the darkened room.
Releasing her for a moment, he switched on the bedside lamp.
“Turn for me,” he commanded with a twirl of his hand.
Sabrina gave him the slim lines of her back that ended with her delectable rear. Grasping the zipper of her dress, he slid it down, exposing her spine. He kissed a trail along the back of her neck as he parted the material and let it slide down her body.
Thank Christ he hadn’t known about the ivory slip of lace she wore over her sex underneath the dress and nothing else, or he would have been imaging it with a fucking erection all throughout their meal. The paparazzi would have loved a shot of him sporting wood.
He traced the smooth lines of her back lightly with his fingertips, then removed the pins from her hair and enjoyed the way it fell to her mid-back in a riot of curls.
“Michael.” She sighed at the touch.
“In here, in the bedroom, you will call me Sir. Can you remember that?” He grazed her neck with his teeth and trailed his hands up her torso to cup her high, firm tits with the large areolas that he was just fucking fascinated by.
“Yes, Sir,” she said with a hitch in her voice.
He smiled against her temple. She was very open and willing to try new things. Perhaps he should test the boundary lines, see where he could push her. He proceeded to kiss along her ne
ck and beneath her chin. Lifting her hair in one hand, he skimmed his lips over her nape, nibbling first at one ear, and then the other. He felt her quiver against him as he plucked at her breast.
“If I reached beneath that slip of lace to that pretty pussy, would I find you wet for me?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered on a gasp as he rolled her nipple in his hand.
He could play with her tits all night long.
“Mmm, let’s see, shall we?” He released her breast and trailed his hand over her abdomen to the tiny triangle covering her mons. He traced along the edge of lace, teasing her, enjoying the feel of her stomach muscles clenching beneath his touch, and only then did he dip his hand underneath to the slick folds of her cunt.
“Oh, yes, you are, dripping for me.” He teased the slit, delving between the folds to the tiny button. He flicked her clit, and her hips jerked at his touch.
So full of passion, she overflowed with it.
“You like my touch?” He sucked an earlobe into his mouth.
“Yes, I do.”
“I can tell by the way your cream coats my hand.” He played with her cunt, but never dipped his fingers inside her channel. He merely toyed with her clit, stroking her gently, and then fast, waiting for the moment she surrendered to give her some relief.
When her head fell back against his chest with her hips rocking against his hand, he slid two fingers inside her sheath. She clenched around his digits as he thrust them, enjoying her tiny gasps and the way her breath caught in her throat while he learned her body.
It didn’t take long before she flooded his hand, her body trembling against his as she came, and her pussy spasmed around his thrusting fingers. When her body stopped clenching around his digits, he felt her legs begin to wobble. Before she could fall, he removed his hand from her pussy and lifted her up onto the bed. She had a dazed expression on her face that filled him with immense satisfaction.
While she lay on the bed, drifting in afterglow, he undressed fully and joined her. Kneeling before her, he drew her panties off and then spread her thighs wide. He lowered his mouth to her pussy, the labia swollen and pink. With a growl, he proceeded to indulge himself. She tasted like the sweetest nectar, ripe and ready. And he couldn’t help himself as he tongued her flesh—holding her hips steady, he watched her face and the surprised pleasure that appeared, listening to her tiny, breathy mewls as she lost herself in the passion and the feel of him loving her sex.
He pressed his erection into the mattress, wanting to send her flying first, because once the leash on his control snapped, he would fuck her. And he wanted her to reach that pinnacle first.
The moment she flooded his mouth and her hips jerked as she came, he rose to his knees, and cursed. “Shit. Give me a minute to find a condom.”
He had packed some in his bag, hadn’t he? He tried to remember through the haze of lust clouding his vision.
“No, don’t leave.”
“I need a condom, babe, before I can fuck you.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve been on the pill for years to help regulate my cycle,” she said, shaking her head and lifting her hips up in invitation.
He stilled at her offer to screw her bareback. “Are you sure, Sabrina? I need you to be one hundred percent sure.”
“Yes, please, I need you,” she pleaded and reached for him, rising up to try and pull him to her.
He shuddered. He’d been the first man to take her virgin ass. And now he’d be the first to fuck her bareback. Without waiting for her to relent or change her mind, he pressed her back, gripped his shaft, pushed the head against her entrance and then, with a roll of his hips, seated his length inside her with a single, deep thrust.
He hissed at the way her pussy clutched him tight. It was so fucking exquisite, he grunted. She felt like heated silk compressing his dick. Her back arched at his entry, her mouth opened on a silent moan, her nipples jutted toward the ceiling, and Michael figured he had about ten seconds before he fell on her like a rabid beast and fucked her like his life depended on it. On his knees, he set a rapid pace, grasping her hips as he plowed her channel, loving the way his cock looked spearing her flesh.
And the way her tits jiggled as he screwed her.
“More,” she whimpered, writhing, her hands fisting in the sheets.
He didn’t think it was possible for her to be a more perfect fuck. But she’d read his damn mind. Leaning forward until their torsos were aligned, he propped himself up on his elbows, and changed the angle of his penetration. At the fluttering clench of her pussy squeezing him, the tether holding his inner beast—the one that liked his sex rough and dirty as hell—snapped.
He fucked her. Pounded his dick inside her drenched, grasping cunt.
He gripped her hands and held them above her head, imprisoning her with his body. He thrilled at the way her gaze went blind, and the surfeit of moans streaming from her delectable mouth.
Sweat rolled down his back. Lightning arced along the base of his spine. Sabrina keened raggedly. “Michael.”
Her hips bucked beneath him as she came. His balls tightened. His cock swelled. The climaxed barreled up from the base of his spine. He slammed home, pouring his seed into her clenching channel, straining as he thrust and thrust and thrust. He bellowed as the climax shook his foundation and shifted his entire world.
He collapsed against her, his face buried against her neck, his breathing harsh and uneven.
“I’ll move in a moment,” he murmured against her neck. He would, just as soon as he got the feeling back in his legs.
“You’re fine just where you are,” she whispered, and pressed her lips against his shoulder.
He closed his eyes at the feel of her plump lips. He was fine. More fine than he could remember being in a very long time.
And it had everything to do with the woman wrapped around him like a pretzel whom he didn’t want to move away from—not now, or ever.
Chapter 14
Dante waited by the tarmac while the jet carrying Michael and Sabrina came in for landing. He had spent the time while they were away getting Sabrina’s second hand vehicle into a parking space in their private enclosed parking garage. And he’d also picked up the car he and Michael agreed she should use while their arrangement played out. The remainder of his time had been split between Bayou Sin, Club Underworld, and mining through members’ records which Quinten unearthed. They would find the culprit, he had no doubt, and remove them as a club member. But their world was definitely not on solid ground until they moved past that.
The Lear jet rolled to a stop. Ground crew pushed a set of stairs over, and the cabin door opened.
And there she was, the woman he had not stopped thinking about over the last two days. Need coursed through him in a way it never had with another woman before. Dante enjoyed female company; he didn’t deny himself when it came to the fairer sex.
But he also never looked forward to a woman’s company the way he found he did with Sabrina. She fascinated him, with her heart and intelligence, with her giving nature and no holds barred approach to lovemaking. He’d worried about her out in Los Angeles. Cursed himself for not being there to protect her, even though Michael had a bodyguard and driver on standby to look after her while he was in meetings.
She took his breath away in her gauzy ivory tank top and frilly flower-patterned skirt.
Now that he had tasted her, taken her virginity, he wanted to claim her. Make it so no other man save Michael would ever touch her. They had been searching for a submissive, one they both could claim, would commit to, and everything inside Dante told him Sabrina was the one. The one they had almost given up hope of ever finding.
The golden tresses of her hair billowed around her face in the sweltering breeze. The Coach sunglasses shielded her eyes from the sun as Michael escorted her down the stairs. At the bottom, she glanced up, and a smile spread over her lips that was all for Dante.
A man could get used to being looked at like that, like
he was the best thing she had seen all day. He resisted the urge to go to her. Until they figured out the leak and saved Michael’s company, he had to restrain himself from touching her in public.
That didn’t make it any easier, not when deep down he knew she was his, was theirs, and that they only had to convince her of it. His gaze glued to her form, he watched that strolling, undulating walk of hers. Did she even realize just how much she aroused him by simply existing?
“Well, don’t you look like a lovely treat? I see LA agreed with you,” Dante said. When she started to reach for him, he opened the passenger side door. “Not out here, love. Once we’re back at the penthouse.”
Contrite, she nodded, and some of her excitement faded. “Sorry, I’m just really happy to see you.”
“I can see that.” And it pleased him to no end. He ushered her inside the car. Michael nodded at him, and they had a wordless conversation. It seemed Michael was heading in the same direction as he with Sabrina. They would need to have a chat at some point, without her around. That would not be the easiest thing with her living with them, but they’d figure it out.
Dante got behind the wheel and drove them out of the airport. “Don’t ever be sorry for being excited to see me. I’m thrilled that you’re back as well. But until we figure out who’s after Michael’s company, we have to be circumspect.”
“I know.” She took his offered hand.
“And how did you enjoy the City of Angels?” Dante asked, squeezing her palm, enjoying the feel of her, the comfort of her hand in his.
“She took to it well, and was heading toward pro status by the end,” Michael mentioned from the back seat with a pleased look in his eyes.
“It was fabulous. I stood in the Pacific Ocean, and saw the Walk of Fame, and the studio. And I can’t stop pinching myself over this one: after the premiere last night at the after party, I danced with The Hunter Clarke. It was amazing. He even acted like he enjoyed the dance.”
“You did, huh?” Dante glanced in his rearview mirror and caught Michael’s amused look.
