For Her Protection: An Alpha Romance

by Amber Bardan

  Electric bursts of pleasure radiated from her clit into her abdomen. His foot slid between hers and eased her foot out, spreading her for him. He ran his cock back toward her entrance but didn’t stop there, instead bringing it to nudge for a moment at her bottom. She twitched and pressed her lips together to stop the groan…or plea.

  He pulled her hips back and guided himself to her aching pussy. He dipped in then up. Even dripping with moisture he strained her walls, stretching her with his fullness. He inched in, filling her so completely her pussy quivered.

  She hugged the skirt around her waist and pressed back, letting him sink all the way. He stilled and her chest heaved.

  Connor bent over her, bringing his lips just shy of her ear. “I said quiet, baby.”

  She blinked, hearing the sound of her panting, and forced her breath and body under control. Then he moved, hard and deep and with excruciating precision against that place only he seemed to be able to access. His arm circled her. He slipped his hand over her pussy, pressing against her clit as he thrust inside her. Her insides trembled, her thighs shook. He pounded her harder, shifting his cock deeper in her pussy while stroking her on the outside.

  Pressure mounted and his other hand dug into her hip as he drove harder. His fingers swirled, working her just right. She was so full, every sensitive place reached, commanded by his cock. Her breath caught, her orgasm crested along her every cell. Connor’s hand left her then he withdrew his cock. She collapsed forward, shaking with the orgasm only seconds away.

  He eased her off the wall. “That’s for teasing me, baby, now you’ll have to wait for your turn.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she saw the look on his face—savage desire. She could come without his help.

  “On your knees,” he whispered.

  She slid to the ground and knelt, opening her mouth, tongue out the way he’d shown her. He took off the condom and held his thick cock in one hand and grabbed the back of her hair with the other then slid himself over her tongue.

  He pushed deeper into her mouth and the open denim of his jeans rubbed against her neck. His cock reached the back of her throat but still he pushed deeper. She relaxed her throat and took him, savoring the sensation of him hardening even further in her mouth.

  She tightened her lips and rubbed her tongue over him. His hand shifted in her hair and she devoured him. Sucking him as deeply as she could into her mouth in fast, slick movements. His cock stiffened and he leaned a hand against the wall. A shiver rolled through her at his reaction. At the quiet power she had over him. She sucked him harder. He jerked, his cock pushing to the back of her mouth. Warm saltiness spilled down her throat. She swallowed and ran her tongue over him gently as he continued to twitch. His other hand moved to her hair and held the side of her face.

  She glanced up at him. His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clamped tight and pleasure streaked across his face. Her pussy throbbed. She fought the urge to slide her hand between her legs and join him. His lashes parted and he met her gaze. The tension in his features softened and he took his cock from her mouth.

  He tilted her face up to look at her.

  She stared back at him. Long moments of heavy silence passed between them. He guided her to her feet, then his mouth covered hers. He kissed her, gently, sliding his tongue between her lips and holding her tightly enough to absorb her into him. She kissed him back, rubbing her hands over his broad back.

  He broke the kiss then dropped his head against the wall over her shoulder. “You don’t know what you do me.”

  A sweet ache filled her chest. She rubbed her nose against his neck, inhaling the magnificent scent of him.

  He patted her bottom. “Come on, you still have a dress to buy.”

  She blinked and looked up at him. He was actually not going to let her finish. Her brows drew together.

  “Don’t give me that saucy look. I’ll take care of it you when you’ve behaved yourself.”

  “That’s just nasty.”

  His smile, slow and cocky, lit his face. “No different than what you were trying to do to me.”

  Dammit he had her there.

  She purchased the red dress, even if she only ever wore it for him.

  NINE

  They wandered through the mall and into other stores. Connor walked with his arm wrapped around her, keeping her close to him, his fingertips brushing against the skin on her shoulder. Her body was on edge, electrified and every touch built the wicked anticipation curling through her.

  Every time she moved she felt him beside her, touching, watching. He was more tuned into her than any person had ever been. Her body strained toward him. Touch me—take me.

  He acted the part of boyfriend while building an erotic, lust-filled fantasy.

  The fantasy washed over her with every affectionate gesture, tempting her, fooling her, frightening the living shit out of her. Because this—this thing between them—had to be an illusion. They were playacting.

  She had no idea how much was real.

  “Time to eat.” Connor shifted the bags he carried into one hand and reached for hers with the other.

  His thick fingers pushed between her thinner ones and she couldn’t help clinging to him.

  They took the shopping to the car then went to one of the restaurants on the outside of the mall. A tall blonde waitress led them through the throng of tables to a horseshoe booth at the rear of the room. The waitress’ gaze lingered a little too long on Connor and she gave him a smug smile. Lucky for her health she moved along. In the two minutes they’d interacted Charlie had already thought of six ways she could kill the waitress with the heel of her shoe.

  Jealousy never usually entered her emotional range. She glanced at Connor, so big and gorgeous. What woman wouldn’t be interested in him?

  “What did you expect, Charlie? You don’t go to an effort anymore. You’ve let yourself go.”

  A sucker-punch of self-doubt hit her in the middle.

  And that had come from someone who’d supposedly loved her…

  Connor ordered a steak with pepper sauce. She ordered the same. The waitress walked away and Charlie caught the end of a sly grin on his face.

  “What?”

  His grin slipped wider over his teeth. “I was just thinking how much I like a woman who enjoys eating meat.” His gaze darkened. He wasn’t talking about the steak she’d ordered.

  The image flickered behind her eyes. Her on her knees, gobbling up what he’d fed her—and loving every delicious inch of it. Her still frustrated, still throbbing, still freaking unsatisfied, pussy flooded with arousal.

  Her tongue darted out and she poured water from the jug on the table into her glass. “I’ve probably had more than my share of meat today—maybe I should’ve ordered salad.”

  “You can never have too much meat.”

  He looked far too smug, far too satisfied—especially for someone who’d left her hanging. She filled up his glass as well then put the bottle down and picked up her drink.

  Connor raised his glass.

  “Maybe you’re right. The steak I had earlier wasn’t very satisfying.”

  His glass came crashing back to the table. “You don’t think it was good?”

  She tried not to grin. So he wasn’t as infallibly confident as he liked to ooze. “I’m not saying it wasn’t a good steak. I’m just saying it wasn’t satisfying. I’m still hungry.”

  “Oh…” The tiny wrinkle of doubt washed off his forehead. “It wasn’t supposed to be. That was an appetizer.” His voice grew husky, promised the main course was yet to come.

  A ding sounded from her pocket and she pulled out her phone. She frowned when she saw the message.

  “What is it?” Connor asked.

  “Just Dad’s caregiver, I asked her to message me after seeing him.” She took in the two-line message.

  “And?”

  “She says he’s allowed her back for now.”

  “That must be a relief?”

  �
�Yeah,” she said but her energy suddenly felt zapped away.

  “How is your dad?”

  She took a deep breath. Enough of her dad remained intact for him to want his personal business kept secret, preferring others considered him a recluse than a…what exactly was he?

  “He’s struggling to adjust to his life now.”

  “Which is?”

  She tucked her phone away and looked at him. His attention locked on her, impossible to brush aside.

  “He has some paralysis since his stroke, but it’s the mental deterioration that’s been the hardest for him to manage. He’s always been so capable. So in charge and in control.” She gulped some water. “Now all he has is me. Making sure I do what he can’t.”

  Connor’s expression didn’t shift, didn’t betray a thing. “What exactly is that?”

  “It’s up to me to get control of Halifax.” She set down the glass. “He feels that Frank took advantage of his illness to take over, and honestly the fact Frank took legal action to delay me accessing Dad’s shares corroborates that.”

  A thin line appeared between Connor’s brows. “And this is what you want?”

  She rubbed the spot between her ribs where a sinking sensation oozed. What she wanted? This was what she had to do. Want, didn’t make it into the equation.

  “Sure, it is.” She blinked. The conversation had already strayed into uncomfortable—now it headed to dangerous. She cleared her throat. “So I guess you’ll be glad when this is all over and you can go back to running Crowe Security instead of having to play boyfriend, huh?”

  Darkness shifted over his features. His jaw hardened. The waitress reappeared, balancing large plates of food. She set them down and Connor waited until she moved away before he spoke again.

  “Is that what you think? That this is a game I’m playing to pass time?”

  Charlie picked up her knife and fork and stared at the steaming brown mess on her plate. A sharp pain filled her chest at the idea of being right. Why had he personally taken her on as a client?

  Why’d he work so hard to get close?

  What was he reporting back to Frank?

  “I have no idea what this is.”

  The plate disappeared from in front of her and her gaze snapped up. Connor moved her dishes, silverware, napkin and glasses from the middle of the table to the end against the wall. He looked at her from beneath hooded brows and reached for her arm, urging her to move. The leather seat shuffled against her thighs as she slid to the inside end of the booth. Connor sat down beside her and reached an arm around her shoulders, but not in a casual, romantic way. The embrace pressed her to him, made her feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his body, but most of all he captured her, forced her attention on him.

  “I told you once, I don’t play games. I want you, Charlie, and I’ve only just begun to have you. The sooner you figure that out and stop fighting me, the sooner you can just enjoy it.”

  “Why did you kiss me that night? What do you even like about me?” She forced her head to turn, forced herself to look him in the eye. “Why would you break every professional boundary just to fuck me?”

  His jaw and his gaze softened then he leaned in, put his mouth right next to her ear. “Is that it, baby? You’re feeling insecure, need me to say some sweet shit to make you feel better?”

  Her heart thundered, and split. Yes—yes she was insecure. She’d felt insecure since the moment she met him. No, since before. A feeling that was only exacerbated by her suspicions and heightened by how much she was coming to like him.

  His hand moved under the table to her thigh, ran the length of her knee to her groin. Made responding to his question impossible. “Fine, but I can’t promise I’ll be good at it.”

  He cupped her, his thumb pressing through her jeans in exactly the right place. She gasped, sucking in a mouthful of air that tasted of the peppery steam rising from her plate.

  “First, I liked your smile.” His gaze flicked to her mouth. “I liked your sexy little mouth. I liked the skirts you wore to work, and how fucking irresistible your ass looked when you bent over.” His thumb moved, pushed the thick, hard seam stitched into the denim between her legs. Heat exploded over her. Using firm, shallow movements, he massaged her. “Now, I like the way you make other people smile. I like the way you never give up. The way you never give in. Except when it comes to this—when it comes to this you give me everything.”

  Her breath hitched. She heard the words and they melted her insides. But it was his fingers that commanded her.

  “But most of all, I like the way you see people.” His gaze focused on her, and she stared at him. Need crawled through her body, but her attention centered on him. “I like the way you see me.”

  Her pulse flip-flopped. Well as far as reasons go, that was a fucking good one. Because with his attention on her, she knew the truth—she loved the way he looked at her. The way she felt pretty, and special, and wanted, because of the way he saw her.

  And he liked the way she saw him—the way she made him feel.

  She just hoped the man she discovered in these moments was the real him.

  The rattle of plates pulled her hazy gaze across the room. They were sheltered in this corner, his actions concealed by the table and its white cloth covering, but even so there was no hiding the intimacy of their bodies, of his whispered words in her ear.

  “Connor…” She turned to him, her cheek scraped against the bristles on his cheek. They were chin to chin, eye to eye, lips to lips. His breath tingled her mouth, rushing faster than usual. His half-closed eyes blazed at her, fascinated her with the flecks of light and dark that merged to create his deep shade.

  “Pick up your knife and fork,” he said and moved his arm from around her.

  His bossy tone sent a shivering thrill through her.

  She took a shaky breath and reached for her cutlery. He returned her plate. Rich sauce oozed over a huge hunk of meat on her plate. Her stomach gurgled, signaled hunger, but her body craved another kind of fulfillment.

  “Eat,” he commanded.

  She sawed through the meat with her knife then brought a small piece to her lips. The steak tasted of smoke, pepper, and heat. She wasn’t sure if it was extra juicy, if she was hungrier than she’d realized—or if her senses were heightened, making the flavors more intense, but a hum rose in the back of her throat. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste, and her eyelids drifted closed. Sitting next to Connor, she felt as if the simple act of eating was doing something dirty in public.

  He picked up a fry and took a bite, watching her and not touching his own cutlery. A heavy hand reached between her thighs. Her knife slipped, making a grinding noise on the ceramic plate. That hand made its way to the button at the center of her waist and flicked it open. Her hands froze, her stomach muscles clenched.

  “Keep eating. No one knows but me.”

  She rubbed her steak-juice-coated lips together and cut another slice of meat. Her zipper slid down and he pushed deep into her underwear, thick digits going straight for her clit. Her hips twitched, pleasure streaked into her womb. His fingers moved between her shamefully wet folds. She cut the piece of meat in half, not confident in her ability to chew, and placed a bite on her tongue. He moved harder—directly—not teasing, not playing… He meant business, sought instant results.

  Connor finished the fry in his free hand and sucked the salt off his thumb. Tension coiled in her sex and a moan escaped her. His fingers swirled firmly, rhythmically against her.

  “Sounds like that’s a good steak. Is it a good steak, baby?”

  Charlie panted and looked back at the plate. His fingers slowed, waiting for her answer.

  Bastard though, he was making her eat her earlier words.

  “Yes, yes it’s good.”

  “Give me some,” he said and began rubbing her again.

  Her head spun and she glanced at him.

  “Feed me some steak.” His eyes glittered.

  F
eed him?

  She realized he couldn’t cut his own food. But still, even with his hand on her cunt, bringing her to pleasure in the middle of a restaurant, the idea of feeding him brought heat to her cheeks. Intimate, romantic, domestic. Submissive. More frightening than coming in public.

  More arousing too.

  She cut off a large piece of steak and swirled it in the sauce then swiveled the fork toward his lips. The moment she turned, the moment her hips shifted she realized his ploy. His hand sank deeper, pushed thick fingers straight into the entrance that opened to him.

  Her hand dipped, almost depositing the fork into his lap. Her vision hazed and she forced herself to think past the sensation of his movements inside her—the palm pressed hard against her clitoris. She brought the fork to his mouth and he opened, then closed his lips over the tines and drew the meat off slowly. He chewed, his gaze flickering over her face.

  “It is good.”

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” A voice intruded.

  Charlie jumped but couldn’t meet the waitress’ gaze. She knew the other woman couldn’t see, knew anyone looking would just see a woman feeding her boyfriend. But Conner’s movements didn’t stop. They grew more controlled, more deliberate as he ordered two glasses of champagne.

  The waitress left and Charlie dropped her hands to the table. He withdrew from her entrance and pumped firmly over her swollen clit. Her nails curled into the tablecloth. Her body tensed, muscle by muscle. Fine motor skills, the kind required to cut, lift, direct movement long past gone.

  “Look at me.”

  Her body obeyed and she gazed at him without focus. He rubbed harder and faster. She twitched, orgasm rising through her nerves, cresting along her senses. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. Not the tongue-deep kiss she wanted but something for public. Hot enough and close enough to swallow the sound she made as she convulsed internally. Excruciating bliss pulsed out from her core, radiated into her muscles until it felt as if she’d turned to liquid.