Broken by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  “Suck harder,” he ordered.

  I couldn’t be sure if I heard the concierge returning, but then the door opened again. Corbin stilled inside of me. I was stuck in place, but out the corner of my eye, I could make out the barest outline of the man’s short form illuminated in the doorway.

  Corbin slowly pulled his hand out of my mouth, and I heaved a silent sigh of relief. He was going to let me pull up my pants, and we would leave here, would finish this someplace more appropriate.

  “Monsieur Lagos?” the man asked. He said something else, and from his tone, I knew he thought something was amiss and that he planned to enter the room.

  Desperately, I locked my fingers around Corbin’s thick wrist and tried to push him away from me.

  His response was to slowly rock forward, claiming every inch of my drenched channel as was his right.

  The unspoken order was impossible to misunderstand: be still. And I knew that Corbin’s orders were backed by his considerable strength and his unerring creativity in thinking up punishments.

  No, I didn’t dare fight him. It wouldn’t have done any good. My options were to accept his dominance or—heaven forbid—to speak my safe word into the quiet of the room. If I would do that, why not just call the concierge over?

  Tremors clenched through my pussy, and I sucked my lip into my mouth to keep from crying out.

  When had I gotten so depraved? I could only pray that the concierge would leave in the next few moments.

  Corbin’s finger grazed my clit, and I felt my nipples harden painfully. I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn’t dare move my attention from the concerned stranger peering into the darkness.

  The hand that had been on my mouth lowered to the top of my buttocks. I shook my head, and Corbin’s cock pulsed and throbbed inside me.

  My pussy squeezed hard around him, and as he slid a wet finger into my tightly clenched ass, I knew I was about to orgasm. Corbin’s fingers tightened the circle around my clit, and I wanted to curse him for knowing my body so well, for being able to take me from cold to orgasm within fifteen seconds if he wanted.

  Sweat drenched my skin, and I forced myself to hold my hips as still as possible as the orgasm ravaged me. I could sense that Corbin was breathing heavier now, that he was fighting to retain control as my pussy squeezed his shaft. It was nice to know that he was struggling, though this particular confluence of events—his former bedroom, someone peering at us but unable to see—would never happen again.

  My orgasm dragged out, grew bigger. I was helpless to fight it, to fight him.

  A little cry escaped my throat. It was so small, but it was enough. If only the room hadn’t been in the back of the apartment, away from the street… It was a silly thing to think, but it crossed my mind, and I couldn’t help but wonder, unreasonably, if Corbin had set all this up, from beginning to end.

  The concierge was tapping along the wall, surely looking for the light switch. Then he was saying something, too, and I realized he hadn’t heard us.

  Corbin shoved in deeper, and he pinched my clit gently.

  It was just a sliver of pain, but it mixed with the orgasms, and I cried out, unable to control myself any longer as sweet ecstasy flooded through me.

  Immediately, Corbin growled a string of words I didn’t understand.

  There was no reply, but the door slammed shut.

  Gasping for breath, I sagged against the wall. My legs had gone weak.

  Corbin pulled out. He roughly turned me to face him. His hungry kiss devoured my mouth, then he was pushing me down. He bent as he forced me lower so that his lips remained on mine. It was like he couldn’t bring himself to break the kiss.

  I moaned.

  Then he straightened, and a heartbeat later my mouth was full of his veiny, throbbing erection. The man was within seconds of orgasm. I could tell by how swollen and hard he was, and how harshly his cock drove into me.

  “Oh, baby,” Corbin growled. “I love your mouth. I would kill for your mouth…”

  I felt him arching back, his hands pulling at my hair, urging me deeper onto his rigid and unyielding shaft, then my throat and mouth flooded.

  As he came, I did my best to suck him, but he was moving too fast, too hard. He groaned loudly, and a thrill of victory ran through me even as I gagged on the salty liquid gushing into my throat.

  He exhaled and stroked my hair, and I felt so close to him. “I love you, baby,” he said.

  I cradled his softening cock in my mouth. I didn’t want this moment to end. In fact, I wanted to stay here, in this foreign place, forever, and be forever on my knees for him.

  Chapter 18

  To my surprise, Corbin insisted on finishing the tour of the apartment, though I was unable to take anything in. I couldn’t stop thinking about the concierge. I hoped he wasn’t too traumatized by whatever Corbin had said to make him run off.

  After we’d finished, Corbin led me to the elevator. Our jackets were carefully folded atop the small table there.

  Corbin picked them up without comment.

  The wall slid apart, and I grinned. I bet I’d never get tired of that little trick.

  “What did you think?” Corbin asked.

  I blushed. He was asking about the apartment, but of course my mind was elsewhere. “The way you grew up is light years from my childhood,” I said.

  “Believe it or not, it seems like a previous life for me, too,” Corbin said.

  “Do you regret moving to the States?” I asked, and then immediately blushed because it sounded like I was fishing for compliments about how wonderful I’d made his life and how he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  Corbin didn’t get a chance to answer—the concierge popped out of nowhere. He said something to Corbin. The man seemed more irritated than embarrassed, but it didn’t make me feel better.

  After replying, Corbin slid an arm easily around my shoulder. We were about to walk outside when the concierge said, “You cheapen what you do not respect.”

  Despite his accent, I understood him perfectly. And I also understood his meaning. The man thought I was some woman Corbin had picked up. I felt my cheeks heating.

  Corbin pinned the man with an imperious stare. “I’ll forgive your lack of manners this time, but you will never speak to me, or my friend, that way again. Is that understood?”

  The man’s jaw clenched, and he managed a begrudging nod.

  “You owe the lady an apology.”

  I wanted to protest, to tell Corbin to forget it, but I was terrified of him, of the way he held himself. Yes, I’d known he was rich, that he’d grown up in privilege, but the Corbin I knew had never been condescending.

  It was the first time I’d seen this side of him, and even though I knew he did it to protect me, it made me shiver.

  “I beg your forgiveness,” the concierge said. I knew he couldn’t possibly mean it, but he was convincing. “You’ll have to forgive my impertinence.”

  “It’s fine,” I mumbled.

  The concierge’s eyes darted to Corbin, who nodded. Then the man practically ran to open the door.

  Corbin didn’t say another word until we were outside, next to the motorcycle. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said. “I’d forgotten what a pompous little prick he can be.”

  “It’s fine,” I said quickly. “I honestly don’t care.” And I didn’t. Before meeting Corbin, I’d scratched my itches by picking up guys in bars. Sex wasn’t something that I felt ashamed about. Maybe I’d been less than excited about the prospect of getting caught, but in hindsight, the danger had been such an aphrodisiac.

  I decided to keep that to myself. If Corbin knew…

  Hell, he probably did know. I decided then and there that I’d never allow him again into the bedroom at my mom’s. Because having sex there would most definitely not be sexy.

  “Audrey…” Corbin said, taunting. “What are you thinking—”

  “Nothing!”

  “What are you thinking sounds
good for dinner?” he asked smoothly. I wasn’t fooled, but then I surely wasn’t meant to be. He handed me my jacket, and I put it on, shaking my head.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Something French.”

  He smiled. “I know a great place. It’s exclusive and booked out months in advance, but I’ve got some sway there.”

  I bet he did. He’d worked as a chef in Paris, so he surely had contacts. And I could just imagine how the night would go. People he knew would come out, say hello, ask questions, silently compare me to the other Audrey. The concierge had been enough for me, and anyway, I didn’t want to share Corbin with anyone. Not tonight. I wanted it to be just the two of us.

  “It’s a cozy but elegant restaurant—” Corbin was saying.

  “I’d like to try a crêpe,” I interrupted. “Nothing fancy.”

  When Corbin gave me a perplexed look, I shrugged.

  He pulled out his phone, glanced at the time and grimaced. “The best place I know is right outside a metro stop in the city center,” he said. “But the owner leaves after rush hour.”

  “What about room service?” I suggested.

  “What about it?” he asked, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He zipped up his jacket, then zipped up mine, too. The little caring moment made me blush, not because tenderness was rare between us but because my sex drive was still revved up after the incident in his bedroom.

  “I thought it would be fun,” I said.

  “To get room service?” Then he nodded.

  “You’ve had a lot of it, I guess,” I said, realizing that the idea probably wasn’t as fun and romantic for him.

  “Audrey, I would love to order crêpes with you,” Corbin said. “And champagne?”

  “Definitely.” I grinned.

  “Ok. Are you starving, or can you wait an hour or two if I get you a snack soon? I want to show you something else. It’s the perfect night for it.”

  I grinned. “I don’t even need a snack.”

  It was much easier to get on the motorcycle this time, and my body wrapped confidently around Corbin. Even the claustrophobia-inducing helmet didn’t freak me out.

  Going through the streets at dusk was a different experience. It felt safer, more like a dream instead of a video game.

  Corbin parked the motorcycle. We walked for a few minutes. Eventually I could discern the outline of a large hill rising before us. The streets were busy, the sidewalks crowded. The neighborhood was very different from the one we’d left.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Montmartre. We could ride up, but it’s a nice walk and makes the view that much sweeter.”

  “Better than from the Eiffel Tower?” I asked.

  Pulling me closer, Corbin laughed and kissed my neck, though I wasn’t sure why.

  We came around a corner and I found myself faced with a wicked set of stairs, a metal railing running down the middle. Corbin took my hand, and we began climbing together. Within a few seconds, we’d established a rhythm, our legs moving in harmony, our arms synchronized.

  “I’m really glad we got to spend some time together today,” I confessed. When I’d asked to come to Paris, it had been with the understanding that Corbin would be busy most of the time. I didn’t dare ask how many more hours he’d be able to spend with me before our flight home.

  Nor did I ask if he was going to change his return flight. He probably didn’t know, and wouldn’t know for certain until the plane was taxiing down the runway.

  “For my part, I’m glad you asked to come,” he said. “Knowing you’re close is soothing. Very soothing.” He squeezed my hand. “This magic you bring to my life, I’m grateful for it.”

  “Magic,” I scoffed. “If that’s what you wanna call it, fine, but I happen to know you just like playing video games with me.”

  He squeezed my hand again, and I suspected he was thinking about the night we met, when he nearly ran me over during a blizzard.

  “We haven’t played in a long time,” he pointed out.

  Guilt’s familiar kick thumped in my stomach. It was my fault for working so much. “I’m going to cut back,” I promised.

  “You will or you won’t,” Corbin said easily. “At least you don’t bring your work on vacation. It could be worse.”

  More guilt.

  “Funny you say that. Actually, I didn’t think this was going to be a vacation,” I started.

  Corbin stopped walking. We were halfway up the steps. Another couple climbed past us, and I leaned against the metal railing. Belatedly, I realized it probably wasn’t very clean.

  “Go on,” Corbin said. “I’m guessing this will tie in to the phone number you had me look up?”

  “Remember that PI case I was working? And oh! I know who was following us.”

  “You do?” Corbin asked.

  I couldn’t help but smile smugly. “I do. Massimo Swann.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “He followed me from the airport, then he was watching the hotel yesterday. I know he saw us together. The timing fits, and the fact that you noticed the person so easily tells me it wasn’t a professional. Massimo fits. But don’t worry. I won’t go running around late at night by myself.”

  “That’s all that matters,” Corbin said, and he smiled that gorgeous smile of his, the one that made my heart beat so fast that I couldn’t breathe.

  A large group was noisily assembling at the bottom of the stairs. Corbin and I resumed our climb without needing to consult each other.

  “I know who Swann is, and I know he’s in a bit of trouble,” Corbin said. “You met with him twice, according to Bertrand. Bertrand, by the way, has no idea who he is. He’s worried you’re cheating on me.”

  I wondered how Corbin knew so much about Massimo.

  Also, Bertrand was a dirty snitch.

  “He needs help and has no one else to turn to,” I said. “And I need help. You’re not obligated to tell anyone that he’s here, are you?” That was as much as I could get out before I decided to conserve my breath for the climb.

  “No obligations, though if I were asked directly, it would be a very bad idea for me to lie. But a jealous murderer isn’t even a blip on the radar compared to what I’m currently involved in.”

  We reached the top of the stairs.

  “Rob had to give the police the name of the hotel, but they haven’t called,” I said.

  “They won’t get through that way. I’ve got it set up so that only certain numbers are allowed access,” Corbin said. “I get a lot of phone calls because of this project I’m doing, and I needed to set some boundaries.”

  “You’re scary. I’m so glad you’re on my side.”

  “Eventually they’ll send someone around, but you’ll probably be back home by then.”

  You’ll be back home. Whatever happened to we? Disappointing to think I’d have to fly home alone, but I wasn’t going to give him a hard time.

  Corbin began telling me the history of the area, and how it had been a favorite with artists. We found ourselves in the dark shadow of a large church.

  “Is it safe up here?” I asked. “For a woman alone, for example.”

  “Like any other city area.” Corbin pulled me close to him. We walked around to the front of the church, and there, laid out like a blanket of stars, was the city, the lights twinkling.

  Even though Corbin kept me warm enough, I shivered. “I’ve seen this in movies,” I whispered, turning to contemplate the building, which was lit from underneath like artwork.

  “Sacré-Coeur Basilica. How does it compare to the screen version? Shorter than you expected?”

  “Larger, actually. I want to see it in the daylight.” I paused, a sudden, belated rush of giddiness making me fight the giggles. “I can’t believe I’m here. Me, in Paris. If I were home right now, I’d probably be waiting outside a dive bar for a scummy criminal to walk out.” I officially loved this city, even if I didn’t know or understand it. In fact, it reminded me a
bit of how I’d felt about Corbin at the beginning, except the city wasn’t nearly dangerous enough.

  There were steps in parallel leading down from the church and hilltop, and between them was an expanse of grass. It was dotted with dark figures, often in groups of two, though there was one larger group, a man with a guitar that he held carelessly. Here and there, I caught the red glow of cigarettes. Farther down, kids skateboarded near the trees.

  Corbin guided me to the steps, and we were about to sit on one when I asked, “What about the grass?”

  “Sure, if you don’t mind rats,” he said.

  I shuddered. “For real?”

  “It’s something high school boys like to tell girls to get them in their laps. Not me, of course.”

  “Of course… but the steps are fine.” And as a bonus, there wasn’t anyone near us. It was nice to be in the darkness with him. We were often in the woods together, with no one else around, but that was different. Here, we were alone but not alone. Even the occasional skateboard screech added magic to the summer evening.

  The only thing lacking was stars overhead, but I didn’t mind the tradeoff.

  Sighing, I relaxed into Corbin.

  “What do you think about getting married?” he asked. Even though his words were casual, I felt the quickening of his heartbeat. “In general,” he said.

  “I didn’t think you were proposing,” I said in a rush.

  “So?”

  “Sometimes I thought about it in an abstract sort of way.”

  “Abstract?”

  “Yeah, like… Maybe one day I’d meet someone and it wouldn’t seem like the worst idea ever.”

  “As opposed to planning your wedding since you were five years old,” he supplied.

  “Yech.”

  That made him laugh. “You don’t see yourself swaddled in a mountain of lace?”

  “If I ever did it, I’d wear a skintight black dress and studded shoes.”

  “I’m tempted to propose just to see that,” he said.

  “Don’t be so sure I’d say yes.”

  He leaned in close, the side of his thumb brushing my cheek. “Do you remember when I said I planned to fuck you without a condom and pump you full of come, and you asked if that was the equivalent of a marriage proposal?”