Protected by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  It wasn’t too late. I should turn around, go to bed. Except… I couldn’t. This had become a ritual ever since the night I’d overheard suspicious noises.

  Moving quietly, I sidled up to Corbin’s office and placed my ear on the door.

  The sharp cracks of gunfire were dulled by the thickness of the door. My breath caught in my throat. Screams of terror… sounded real.

  Then, the explosion.

  It was the same sequence as always, and if it had ended there, I would have been fine.

  I held my breath, bracing myself for what I knew was coming.

  Heavy breathing. The woman’s rhythmic panting was unmistakably sexual in nature.

  The sounds faded, and I pressed harder against the door, trying to hear what was happening. If I could understand what she was saying…

  The woman began moaning, and her voice became louder as her vocalizations transformed into… begging?

  Don’t hurt me, she seemed to be saying. It sounded sexual. She sounded like I did when Corbin tied me up and spanked me. I want to live, she said. And that… freaked me out.

  The sound cut off abruptly.

  Tense, I waited for the screams of pain, but they didn’t come, not this time.

  No, there wasn’t any way in hell I could tell Rob about this.

  As the silence dragged out, I started to become paranoid that Corbin knew I was out there. Reluctantly, I raised my hand and rapped on the smooth wood.

  “Just a second,” Corbin called out. I was barely able to hear him through the door. That told me something about the volume of whatever it was he was watching.

  The door opened and Corbin leaned into the doorway.

  “You’re home,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. His shockingly vivid blue-green eyes latched onto mine, and even though I couldn’t look away, I’d already gotten a glimpse of what he was wearing.

  Or, rather, what he wasn’t wearing.

  Silky black pajama bottoms hung low on his hips.

  And that was it.

  No shirt, no pajama top, no tank top.

  Just sculpted abs, a wide, hard plane of a chest, bulging biceps that looked even more intimidating because of his pose—one arm raised and resting on the frame—and broad shoulders that drew attention even when he was fully dressed.

  Those silky pajamas, though, were only being kept in place by the drawstring tied in a sloppy knot.

  It was the sort of closure that would probably give way under nothing but a casual brush of the fingers. Not that I was interested.

  “Yes, I’m back,” I said belatedly.

  Corbin’s handsome face hardened into an inscrutable mask as he asked, “Did you have a good night at work?”

  I nodded. “Did you?”

  He smiled, or more accurately, his lips moved upward. “I did.”

  We stared at each other in silence. He was distractingly gorgeous. Stubble darkened his broad jaw, and his thick hair was messy. He’d probably worked out within the last couple of hours, then showered and hadn’t bothered brushing it.

  “What are you working on in there?” It wasn’t the first time I’d asked, so I knew his response.

  “An important project.”

  “For work?”

  “What else would it be for?” He tilted his head and continued to study me. His dark eyebrows drew together an almost imperceptible degree.

  “I don’t know,” I blurted. “Porn?”

  “Porn.” Now he did smile, a real one that turned his handsome face irresistibly and breathtakingly sexy. “You think I’m holed up in here watching porn?”

  I folded my arms across my chest. Being a bounty hunter, I knew damned well when someone was bullshitting me. Corbin hadn’t answered the question about whether it was for work.

  Deflection, deflection, deflection.

  “Do I look like I was watching porn?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Look at my cock, Audrey. Am I hard?” He shifted his weight to the other foot and moved both arms high in the doorframe.

  The muscles of his chest flared even wider.

  “I’m not the least bit interested in your genitalia,” I said, suddenly a little breathless.

  “Look. Now.” His voice was deep and commanding, and maybe I was too damned horny because even though I didn’t want to, my gaze slipped down his perfect body.

  Well, he certainly wasn’t hard.

  “Maybe you got off,” I said.

  “Touch me,” he ordered.

  He didn’t wait for me to comply and instead grabbed my arm and pressed my hand against his hips. The satiny pajamas were decadently sensual under my fingertips.

  Sadly, I’d been wrong about the drawstring; the bow didn’t unravel at the slightest touch.

  Corbin moved my fingers down. His cock was sleeping, but within seconds, it was lengthening, growing longer, thicker. My body responded, my pussy getting wet, my heart hammering against the confines of my chest.

  I swallowed hard, as if that could stem my sudden and dizzying arousal.

  “Tell me, baby. Did I just get off?” he demanded.

  I swallowed again. I couldn’t bring up the sounds I’d overheard. Even though I was dying of curiosity, I wasn’t willing to risk letting him know the extent of my obsession. I didn’t want to call him a liar when my only proof was a gut feeling. “You’re spending a lot of time in here lately.”

  “And you’re spending a lot of time at work.”

  My hand jerked away from his stiff erection. “Only because you’re so busy with… whatever you’re doing.”

  Frustrated, he plunged a hand into his dark hair. “Audrey, you know I don’t like keeping secrets from you. If I’m not telling you something, there’s a very good reason.”

  “Of course. I’ll just have to trust you, like always.”

  He leaned forward, and my breath stuttered in my throat. I’d never seen irises like Corbin’s. The blue-green shade alone was singular, but there was always a burning intensity in them. An electricity. The first time I’d seen him, I’d wondered if they were contact lenses, the kind that fourteen-year-old girls bought at the mall.

  Except there was nothing cheap looking about his eyes.

  And now he was staring into my soul.

  I returned his scrutiny, willing myself not to bring up his reaction to my ill-timed marriage proposal—something else Rob didn’t know about.

  But the more I tried not to think about it, the more space it occupied in my mind. Corbin’s response to my question? “Let me think on it.”

  In other words, no. And then he’d become even more secretive than usual.

  “Corbin,” I said. God, those eyes. When they were cold, it gave me a glimpse of how it might feel if we ever broke up. I hated how much I needed him. Not physically—I could take care of myself—but emotionally.

  Any other man shutting me out, keeping secrets, and I would have been out the door so fast that furniture would have toppled in my wake.

  But not Corbin. I couldn’t walk away. Because I loved him. Knowing he was a murderer hadn’t changed that, and the fact that he was capable of killing innocents hadn’t changed it, either. I’d thought that by quitting his career as an assassin, pieces of normal might fill the gulf between us, but it wasn’t working out like that.

  Even while I was starting to give serious thought to the possibility that Corbin might be bad for me, I wanted him more than ever. Wasn’t that the definition of a dysfunctional relationship?

  “Baby. Stop thinking.” His deep voice had dropped even lower, turning into an intimate growl.

  “Do you wanna fuck?” I asked, smiling to cover up the insecurity that surfaced whenever I thought of the marriage proposal.

  He caught my face in his hands. “I love you.”

  My fingers sought the drawstring on his pajamas. “That wasn’t my question.”

  “You’ve been a very bad girl recently,” he said, pushing my hand away, “and I’ve been too lax. That’s going to change tonight.�
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  Chapter 3

  Alarmed, I jerked my gaze to his. Lax? Like the last week had been all fun and games?

  Corbin’s expression remained stern, focused.

  Without allowing me a moment’s respite from his dissecting gaze, he pulled off my shirt, then stepped close so he could unhook my bra. I trembled slightly at the nearness of him, the pleasure of his sculpted, warm body pressing against mine.

  Unhurriedly, he unbuttoned my jeans, unzipped them and tugged at the elastic waistband of my panties. I sucked in a shaky breath as he removed my clothes, leaving me bare. The entire time, his eyes were on mine. The attention was a little frightening.

  “Go to the largest guest bedroom,” he said.

  Anxious to escape his scrutiny, I pivoted and hurried away, painfully aware of my buttocks, the wetness between my thighs.

  “The guest bedroom. The big one,” Corbin called out, and I stopped. He had specified that, but it hadn’t registered.

  I changed course, cursing myself for having forgotten to sneak a peek at the office. It probably didn’t matter. Corbin wasn’t sloppy enough to leave anything sitting out where I’d be able to see it.

  The bedroom’s lights flickered on when I entered.

  We’d never had overnight visitors, but if any popped up, we were more than prepared. The room was almost as large as the master bedroom, and it was completely furnished, decorated in classic grays and browns. The king-size bed, of the four-poster variety, rivaled those of the nicest hotels. An enormous walk-in closet included generous windows and a padded bench, a place to rest in case of exhaustion caused by contemplating the rows upon rows of shelving and hangers.

  The room had its own bathroom, which was a bit smaller than some of the others in Corbin’s condo. Just a shower stall (though with a tiled bench), a sink (with two basins) and a toilet.

  I was much more impressed by the section of the room in front of the windows. The sofa was large enough to accommodate three adults, and I found the padded armchair ridiculously comfortable. Sometimes I sat on it sideways to read while the afternoon light slanted in. The paper-thin television had never been turned on as far as I knew.

  This bedroom was bigger than the entire apartment I’d been renting when I met Corbin, and it was a thousand times nicer.

  I ran my palm over the bed’s smooth wood, then over the patchwork quilt that Corbin and I had picked up at a farmer’s market. It didn’t quite fit the modern decor, but I’d thought it was pretty.

  Carefully, I folded it back, exposing soft, blue-gray sheets.

  “Don’t bother getting into the bed,” Corbin said behind me. Something landed on the mattress just a few inches from where I stood.

  A large hairbrush.

  I tried to swallow the fist-sized lump in my throat. That hairbrush and I had a lot of history, and none of it to do with coiffure; its bristles had never touched a hair on my head.

  The back of the brush, however, had smacked all over the skin of my ass and the backs of my thighs.

  “What did I do to warrant a punishment?” I demanded, turning to face Corbin.

  He’d come to a stop a few feet away from me. All I saw were broad shoulders and large muscles, an ode to testosterone. Corbin’s body was breathtaking, and the longer I looked at him, the wetter I got.

  “I don’t need a reason to spank you,” Corbin said, and I noticed that one of his hands was slightly behind his body, like he was hiding something. “Though it’s true that you will be punished. Stand at the foot of the bed.”

  “But why—” One look at his serious expression and my protest met an abrupt end.

  I hurried to stand where he’d indicated. Too many of my punishments included orgasm deprivation, and I was so not in the mood for that. I badly needed release, and Corbin was the only man who could satisfy me.

  “Stretch your arms out to the side,” he said. His bare feet padded along the floor as he came up behind me.

  A cold metal bracelet encircled one of my wrists, and I groaned. Handcuffs. But Corbin left the mate dangling.

  A second cuff was fastened around my other wrist. Corbin pressed on my shoulders, making me bend over. His low growl of approval rumbled through my bones. “Look how wet you are,” he said.

  “That’s not because of the brush or the cuffs,” I said quickly, and Corbin laughed.

  His laugh… It vibrated over my body, giving me chills of pleasure. The masculine deepness of his voice had to be my favorite sound in the world, especially when he was calling me baby or telling me what he planned to do to my body.

  But his laugh could melt my heart even when I was irritated with him. He didn’t laugh often enough.

  He left the room, then returned. I heard metallic rattles and clinks, and a moment later he hooked a length of two-inch-thick silvery chain through one dangling cuff. He looped the chain around the bedpost, passed it through a hook at the base of the bed, then brought it through the other dangling cuff.

  When he was finished, my arms were spread wide, like I was miming an airplane.

  Corbin bent over me, his hard chest pressing into my shoulders.

  “Baby…” he said, like he was going to reassure me. He kissed the nape of my neck, his lips sinfully hot against my skin. “I’ve been thinking about this ever since midnight.”

  “What happened at midnight?”

  He nipped his way to my ear. Even as I squirmed, I was arching my back, my body pleading to be fucked.

  “It’s what didn’t happen at midnight,” he said. “You weren’t here, and that’s unacceptable.”

  He moved away. Despite my clinking restraints, I could raise my head enough to see over the footboard.

  Unfortunately, I had an excellent view as Corbin walked over, picked up the hairbrush, and thoughtfully turned it over in his hands.

  He knew I was watching. Why else was he gently bouncing the brush’s back against his broad palm?

  “I could suck you off,” I offered, aiming for seductive but coming off worried.

  “You could,” Corbin said. “It’s a tempting thought. Let me think about it.”

  I winced. What he’d said was too damned close to, “Let me think on it.” Why wasn’t I strong enough to bring up the proposal again, to demand to know why he hadn’t given me a yes or no answer?

  I knew the reason I hadn’t asked.

  Because I was a coward.

  Because I was afraid his answer would be no. No, he didn’t want to marry me, didn’t actually want to spend the rest of his life with me. And then I would have to ask why not, and I wasn’t strong enough to hear the reason.

  Corbin slapped the brush hard against his hand, the sharp sound making me flinch. “I’ve decided.”

  My gaze flew to his, and I knew what he was going to say.

  “I prefer to spank you.”

  My pussy squeezed so tightly that I thought I might actually orgasm. “But why?”

  Corbin had to have heard how breathless I was, how excited.

  Still slapping the brush against his hand, he moved behind me. I danced from foot to foot, foolishly trying to evade the impending spanking. My arms were beginning to ache. My neck and back, too.

  “Because,” he said, “you’ve been avoiding me. I’ve told you before not to hide from me. I love everything about you, Audrey, even when you’re feeling insecure.”

  “I am not insecure,” I said.

  “Tomorrow night you’ll be home by seven,” he said. “For every minute you’re late, you’ll earn five spankings.”

  I groaned, but to my ears it sounded like a moan of pleasure. Corbin ran the brush’s bristles over my ass. “Would you like to make a deal?” he asked.

  “Yes!” I twisted, trying to look at him. The most I could see was the muscled edge of his shoulder. “Anything!”

  He slapped my ass lightly, but it was enough to make me jump. “Stop moving around,” he said.

  Immediately I faced forward again.

  “I’ll spank you
tonight for pleasure, not punishment.”

  “Ok…” I waited for the catch.

  “But if you’re late tomorrow, it will be ten spankings for each minute.”

  “Deal!” I practically yelled, my voice trembling. “That’s a great idea, seriously, Corbin—”

  The flat of the brush slammed into my ass, catching the bottom curve of my buttock and shooting red-hot heat through my skin.

  I gasped.

  “Good girl,” he said. A loud crack rang through the air as he slapped the other cheek, harder this time. I moaned, and my pussy clenched, gushed. The dribble running down my thighs was turning into a river.

  “Thank you.” I didn’t want him to decide I needed punishment for some new infraction. Sometimes he did that, especially if he estimated that I’d been rude or hadn’t shown enough gratitude.

  “You’re welcome, baby,” he said. “When your ass is a little redder, I’m going to fuck you.”

  I moaned in relief even as I braced myself for the spanking.

  Corbin took his time, delivering one leisurely blow after another. They weren’t as hard as they could have been. Just enough to warm my skin and send barbed pleasure sparking through me, but at no point did I even contemplate using my safe word.

  It wasn’t easy, though. The effort of holding the pose was making my shoulders cramp. My thighs and ass, too, from bracing against the punishment.

  Corbin had planned this, the sadistic bastard. He always found a way to torment me.

  “Now I’m going to fuck you, and you aren’t allowed to orgasm,” Corbin said. “If you do… ten spankings.” His voice got hard. “Real spankings, and not the tickling you just got.”

  I swayed and whimpered. Oh, I should have known. Corbin was making me pay.

  A soft rustle met my ears as he removed his pajama bottoms, and I imagined him standing gloriously naked behind me, his huge cock erect, warm and heavy.

  He moved in close, one of his hands on my hips. I twisted my hands to grip the chain that imprisoned me. My nipples were hard, and my pussy was practically begging for him to fuck me.