Bound To Protect (Crescent City Kings)

by Anya Summers

  She leaned against him, wrapped her arms around him, and held him close while he did his best to imprint himself on her soul. He’d always been drawn to her, but he’d kept that line of employer and employee firmly in place. Now that it was gone, he wanted to sink into her and willingly drown.

  He left her mouth, skimmed his lips along her jaw, and lowered himself to his knees. He needed to taste her, was almost desperate to have her cream flood his mouth and roll over his tongue. He lifted one of her legs up over his shoulder, spread her labia, and took her into his mouth, his gaze trained on her face, learning her body, committing to memory which touch made her squirm, which made her moan, and which left her screaming for more.

  Dante mercilessly drove her body up, using his tongue and teeth to make her climax, screaming his name. The sound echoed in the enclosed space. But he didn’t stop there. He thrust his tongue inside her again and again. He craved her surrender, wanted it as much as he wanted to sink his dick into the hot cavern of her pussy and lose himself inside her.

  She made him want things. Dreams he had held in check, that he thought were impossible, he felt were now in reach with her.

  “Dante,” she keened, her legs trembling. Her head fell back against the tile, and her fingers dug into his scalp.

  Gently, he lowered her leg from his shoulder and rose. His cock twitched and seeped in anticipation. He held her up when her knees would have buckled. “Put your arms around my neck, love, and trust me for the rest.”

  She wound her arms around his neck. He lifted her up, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Using the tile wall to brace her silken form against, he fit his dick at her pussy entrance.

  “Look at me,” he growled.

  She raised her lids. Her expression was glazed. And Dante thrust deep inside her swollen channel. Her breath hitched on a low moan. He glided in and out in measured, controlled strokes, watching her every reaction. The tiny mewls she emitted drove him wild.

  She felt incredible skin to skin, without the thin membrane of a condom. In her eyes, he saw his future, one that he wanted without qualm. If Michael was going to turn away, be blind to her bounty, then so be it.

  Because he vowed that she would belong to him. She already did, even if the words hadn’t been spoken. Claiming her lips, he held on tight, while he took them up and over the edge into bliss.

  Chapter 16

  “Don’t fidget. You look lovely.” Michael squeezed Sabrina’s hand as the limo pulled up in front of the history museum on Wednesday evening.

  Tonight was the Friends of the World War Two Museum Benefit, to help raise money for the museum. She lowered her hand and replied, “I know, but this is important. I just don’t want to screw up.”

  “You won’t. You’ll do fabulously. Just be like you were at the premiere on Sunday.”

  “I can’t. Hunter Clarke isn’t here for me to drool over and dance with,” she replied as the limo door opened and flashes erupted from cameras. She hadn’t even mentioned how handsome he looked in his black tux. Some men were born to wear jeans while others, like Michael, looked unbelievably hot in suits and tuxedos. She admired the strength in him, in the fit of his jacket, and couldn’t help but simmer inside when he turned his gaze on her.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you’re rather cheeky?” he murmured huskily before he exited from the limo, then turned to offer her a hand out.

  She was glad for the assistance in her sheer satin black gown and skyscraper heels. The stylist Michael had hired had pulled her hair back into a fancy chignon, with two delicate wisps framing her face. Around her neck was a strand of white sea pearls and she wore matching earrings.

  For the second time in a week, Sabrina felt like a princess. The Tiffany diamond engagement ring twinkled in the lights as they entered the crowded event. She kept her hand threaded through Michael’s elbow as they walked through the crowd. She had never had time to visit museums when she’d been taking care of her brother all the time. And now, she was experiencing the VIP treatment.

  People stopped Michael along the way. Important people. These were the movers and shakers in Louisiana, from the Governor on down to the Mayor of New Orleans. Sabrina tried to keep everyone’s names straight, she really did.

  But just like on the night of the premiere, it was driven home to her that this was the world Michael lived in. And unlike the other night, which had been a treat for the eyes and ears with all the movie stars, rock stars, and television personalities present, tonight, Sabrina wasn’t enjoying it.

  She didn’t know how Michael did it. These people were boring, albeit nice enough, for the most part. She did like the historical displays and exhibits, though. One in particular was a wall of dog tags from Louisianans who had lost their lives in both the European and the Pacific theatres of World War Two. There were thousands of them.

  To think that that many people had died trying to free Europe from Hitler’s oppressive, murderous regime, and Japan’s attempt to expand their Empire. War didn’t make sense to Sabrina. There was enough for everyone to go around. The problem was that people liked to pretend—especially those at the top—like there wasn’t enough.

  “Michael, how lovely to see you,” said a statuesque blonde in a way that made Sabrina’s skin crawl. The woman was perhaps a decade older than Michael’s thirty-six. She was wearing a champagne-colored dress that left little to the imagination as to the goods beneath, with diamonds dripping from her ears and neck, and had approached them while they stood in front of a display depicting army life for the average soldier.

  Her blonde companion’s dress sparkled silver, making Sabrina think of the costumes one might wear during Mardi Gras, and that woman’s garb was equally revealing. They brought to mind two female cats in heat on the hunt for a tom.

  Sabrina thought the mess kits and clothing were unique. Dante would get a kick out of this stuff as much as he had out of his gift the other night. Maybe she could convince him one day to come back here and explore when there wasn’t all this fuss around. She knew how much he enjoyed forties history.

  And then she felt instantly contrite.

  She shouldn’t be thinking about Dante while she was here with Michael. Her focus needed to be on Michael, and pretending she was madly in love with him.

  “Deirdre, Janine, it’s a pleasure to see you both this evening.” Michael kissed each woman on the cheek. “I’d like to introduce my fiancée, Sabrina.”

  Both women covered their surprise quickly as they assessed Sabrina from the crown of her head, right on down to her black leather Manolo Blahniks. Deirdre smiled, and it reminded Sabrina of a cobra preparing to strike. “My goodness, Michael, she’s lovely. Pleasure to meet you, my dear. You must know, Michael is one of our most sought-after bachelors. Your engagement will be the talk of society. However did you manage such a feat?” She actually glanced at Sabrina’s abdomen like she was trying to see if she had a bun in the oven.

  “Yes, well, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran into me,” Sabrina replied, and glanced up at Michael with a small smile, trying to ignore the viper and her vapid friend.

  “It’s true. One look at her, and I was a goner,” Michael added, his hand squeezing Sabrina’s hip and his gaze lit with approval.

  “Isn’t that wonderful for you? We’re thrilled for you both,” Deirdre murmured with a voice that dripped honey with an edge. Sabrina bet the honey was laced with poison.

  “I have a few more introductions I need to make, if you both will excuse us?” Michael replied, and pulled Sabrina toward another group of people. Thank god. Those women had their noses so far up in the air, it was a wonder they didn’t drown when it rained.

  Michael introduced Sabrina to the members of his board. They were all rather stuffy, like they had poles shoved up their bums, and their dour expressions proved they thought Sabrina was beneath them even though she was with Michael. She tried not to let it get to her. But as the night progressed, she found her smile growing sharper, h
er responses shorter and more clipped, and began to understand Michael better with every introduction.

  It was no wonder that he was guarded and aloof. Seeing this crowd of gossipmongers and backstabbers, laughing about how they took other people’s money and the thrill of the game, regardless whether it was a legal business transaction, it all made sense now. Michael made sense—the way he kept her at arm’s length even after the intimacies they had shared, both alone and with Dante.

  She excused herself for a moment and headed to the bathroom. She needed a minute away from the crush of people. She was sitting inside one of the stalls, trying to center herself, when the door to the restroom opened.

  “Did you see that trollop Michael was with? I swear, where did he pick her up, on a street corner?”

  “How much you want to bet she’s pregnant?”

  “The indomitable Michael Fitzgerald brought low by a woman he knocked up.” The laugh was downright evil. “It figures. At the end of the day, Michael is like any of the guys here: they chase after a piece of ass like any man, and have no qualms about where that ass came from.”

  “There’d better be a prenup.”

  “Oh please, she might be leading him around by his dick, but Michael’s smarter than that, or at least, I hope he is. God, could you imagine that woman owning half of his estate?” Deirdre said with a sharp laugh.

  Sabrina’s belly curdled with the small amount of champagne that she’d imbibed. Those two biddies prattled on about other people they had run into that night before they finally left the restroom. On autopilot, Sabrina left the room and made her way to Michael. The small amount of enjoyment she had been getting from the evening, even pretending to be the fiancée of a powerful, influential man, had turned sour.

  “Something amiss?” Michael asked with concern.

  Sabrina shook her head no. There was no point in complaining. If those women knew the real reason she was on Michael’s arm and wearing his ring, their vicious gossip would have been a hundred times worse.

  “No, I’m fine,” she lied, and pasted a smile on her face.

  “I haven’t danced with you yet this evening. Why don’t we give these folks something to talk about?” Michael offered.

  Sabrina didn’t have the heart to tell him they already were talking; he just wouldn’t end up liking what they were saying.

  Michael danced with Sabrina through a few numbers with the band. He figured that, after a few dances, they could make good their exit for the evening. While they were out tonight, Dante had been setting the stage for a practice scene in the bedroom.

  Michael had to admit, he was curious how Sabrina would respond to a flogging.

  He and Dante had made an agreement that each night, they would attempt a different scene to determine the best one to present Saturday night at the club.

  If it was anything like the way Sabrina had blossomed with lovemaking then he had a feeling it would be amazing to watch her submit and surrender for the first time. Now, though, she felt stiff in his arms, even though she held the appearance of adoration. He knew her.

  Or he was coming to, at least.

  Dante had been right to make him cancel his morning appointments the other day so that he could go with the two of them to Sabrina’s place to meet the cleaners and then turn the keys in to the landlord. Michael didn’t like to admit he was wrong. But he had been.

  More wrong than he thought he had ever been.

  The actual home had been well kept, even the tiny yard and exterior of the house Sabrina had been responsible for. But the street she lived on—Michael had been appalled. How had she survived with so many threats nearby?

  And she had lived there alone, taking care of a mentally ill brother all by herself.

  He no longer wondered why she had jumped at the offer of pretending to be his fiancée. But he also didn’t like the tightness he now noticed around her eyes and mouth. How forced her smile had become as the night progressed.

  “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Some of the stiffness left her and she asked, with hope in her eyes, “Really? We can go?”

  When he spied that much of a change, he knew it was the right call. He winked. “Of course. Let’s go.”

  Michael escorted her out of the museum. It took a little longer, since they were stopped every ten feet on their way toward the exit. But he felt her breathe a sigh of relief when they stepped outside the museum. The scent of the Mississippi hit him in the muggy air.

  Once they were seated in the limo and on their way home, he asked, “Is everything all right?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Sabrina, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

  With a sigh, she murmured, “I just don’t know that I’m built for your world, is all. Those women in there…”

  “They’re dried up, jealous hags who don’t know the first thing about you. What happened when you went to the restroom? Who said something to you, and what did they say?” He’d realized that that was when her demeanor had changed.

  “It doesn’t matter what they said, not when they’re right.”

  “Tell me who, and what was said,” he ordered sternly. He cupped her chin and brought her gaze up to his as he waited for her to respond.

  “When I was in the stall, I overhead that woman Deirdre and her friend. They’re wondering if I’ve got a bun in the oven, and figured I’m leading you around by your dick,” Sabrina explained in a rush. “I’m sorry. This is temporary between us. I understand that. But it’s the first time I’ve been intimate with anyone, and I forgot that for a little while—that it’s all merely temporary.”

  Sabrina glanced out the window. Michael studied her dejected profile. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for her. He hated that those bitches had made comments she had taken to heart. His world wasn’t all glitz and glamour, there was also a ton of crud, with people who thrived on being cruel and ugly while acting like they were better than the rest of society.

  “I’m sorry they said things that upset you. Don’t take them to heart. For all their wealth and privilege, they are nasty individuals.”

  “As long as you’ve never slept with either of them,” she whispered.

  That, he didn’t have to lie about. “Never in a million years. I think my dick would rot and fall off.”

  Sabrina laughed. “That’s something, at least.”

  And Michael thought about what Dante mentioned the other night. He wanted to keep her. His best friend was already half in love with the little maid. Perhaps, if Michael bent a little in that direction, it would ease things, mend the widening rift. They didn’t have to marry her, just enjoy the time they were together, whether it was six months or six years. Sabrina certainly enjoyed being with both of them. And that image of her crawling across the floor to him, with nothing but her skirt bunched about her waist, and Dante’s semen coating her thighs, would live with him for a long time. It was the stuff of erotic fantasies.

  “But what if we wanted to keep you?” he said.

  Sabrina glanced his way with shimmering hope in her eyes and breathed, “Really?”

  “Yes. It will be your choice, of course, but I for one would like to continue seeing you past the thirty days. And I know Dante definitely does, as well.” The woman had no secrets, she wore her expressions as plain as day on her face. And the way she looked right now, the sheer joy mingled with hope that they wanted to keep her, cracked some of the shell around Michael’s emotions.

  “But you can have any woman in there. You should be dating supermodels and famous actresses. I may not be skilled in dating or bedroom activities, but I do know that any one of those women in there would suit your public life better than me. And then you wouldn’t have biddies saying I’m with you because you knocked me up.”

  “Women like Deirdre are going to gossip and make up cruel lies because it’s who they are. As for who I date, I’ve been with both of those types. Enjoyed my time with them. A littl
e on the vapid side, but I appreciated them for what they were. And I don’t want them. I want you. We both do.” That much was true. He did want her.

  “I have nothing to offer you though,” Sabrina said, her insecurities blaring through.

  For all her bluster and strength of character, and the hardships she had faced, she was still sheltered and unschooled in the ways of men. She obviously had no idea how refreshing it was to be with someone who was not jaded by a metric ton of emotional baggage from past relationships.

  Michael pulled her onto his lap and tipped her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Sabrina, you offer yourself, your body, and put all of yourself into every interaction. You’ve carried the weight of the responsibility for your brother on your shoulders, alone, and done it with grace and humility. You’re an amazing woman. Circumstance brought us together. And what I would like to know is, once the thirty days is up and the contract fulfilled by both parties, would you like to continue seeing Dante and me? And to be clear, it would be both of us. We would instruct you in the lifestyle and what is required of a submissive. You would go to the club with us, and scene with us in front of others. Is that something that appeals to you? It’s okay if it’s not, and this is all one big transaction for you. There will be no hard feelings from me.”

  Dante might have them, though. And his friend would likely argue that Michael had forced her into a decision.

  “I’d like that,” she whispered, and he spied a hint of moisture filling her gaze.

  “Yeah?” He stroked his hand down her back.

  “If I didn’t need the money for my brother, I would tell you to keep it, and would help you without it. But his care is so expensive, I have to make sure he’s taken care of. Me, I don’t need much, except maybe more kisses from you both,” she replied with a tremulous smile.