Savage SEAL’s Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

Enda’s eyes were questioning now…and somehow, Ama knew, that if she asked him to stop, he would, without question.

  But she didn’t want him to stop, she wanted him here, now…

  Enda swept her off her feet and onto one of the stone tables that framed the little garden. He unzipped his fly and freed his diamond-hard cock from his pants, and climbed on top of her.

  Ama felt like this was a dream, a fantasy, right up until Enda Gallo thrust into her and she gave a little cry of pain. It faded quickly, and then all she felt was an all-consuming pleasure as he made love to her, kissing her tenderly, his cock driving deeper and deeper into her with every stroke. His hands pinned hers to the table, his eyes locked onto hers as they moved together, her legs wrapped around his hips. Ama felt her orgasm build, and when she came, her back arched up off the table, pressing against him as she gasped and shuddered. Enda kissed her passionately, then raised his head and groaned as he too came, pumping thick, creamy semen deep into her belly. He gave her no time to recover; his mouth found her clit and teased it until she was weeping with desire, and then his cock was inside her again driving her onwards and onwards towards her climax.

  Afterward, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He still had not spoken one word to her. He touched her face once more…and then he was gone.

  Ama, her legs still shaking, sat down quickly on the bench, blinking. Did that really just happen? Her body answered – god, yes, yes…

  She had just fucked Enda Gallo…or he had fucked her. Ama gave a disbelieving laugh. She sat there for a further five minutes then made her way slowly back inside the house. Most of the guests had gone now, and Christina was looking for her.

  “Have to go, sweets, before I drink this place dry.” She hugged Amalia, then studied her. “Hey, are you okay? You look weird.”

  Ama blinked then tried to smile. “Just tired, babe. Look, promise me we’ll get together for lunch on Monday.”

  “Promise.”

  She went back into the main ballroom, her heart thumping at the thought of seeing Enda in there. But he was nowhere to be seen. Jackson came over to her. “Our guests have left - would have been nice of you to say goodbye. I hope you’ll be more sociable in the future.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t want to argue. “Goodnight, Jackson.”

  He caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “To bed.”

  “To our bed.”

  Ama sighed. He would never stop trying, would he? “No, Jackson. To my room. I told you once, and I meant it. I will never, ever have sex with you. Find one of your many admirers – I assume you’ve worked your way through most of them, anyway. I’m sure one of them will be up for it.”

  Jackson stared at her, his face angry, then stepped closer to her. “You will submit to me, one day, little girl, or I’ll break you. I swear I will.”

  Ama wasn’t impressed. “Go away, little boy. You don’t scare me.”

  She turned and walked out of the room, running lightly up the huge staircase, hoping he wouldn’t follow her. Selima was in her room, packing her wedding dress away. “Dad’s just bringing the car around.” Selima had tears in her eyes as she hugged her sister. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me, Ama. Never. I just pray you find some happiness.”

  Ama held her sister, feeling the tears threatening again. “Go along now, Dad’s probably waiting. I’ll see you soon.”

  Selima nodded. “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Alone, she locked the door and put a chair up against it. She didn’t trust Jackson not to have a spare key. There was no way she was letting him in. Sure enough, a half hour later as she walked out of the shower, toweling her long hair dry, the door handle rattled. She smirked to herself as she heard him curse, but he soon gave up.

  Amalie sat down on the bed. She was married…and had lost her virginity all in one day. And to two different men. What the hell was I thinking?

  She already knew she regretted one of those things…and it wasn’t anything to do with Enda Gallo.

  Olivier Gallo drove into town and was at the restaurant fifteen minutes before his half-brother arrived. He stood to hug Enda, who clapped him on the back. “Hey, brother, good to see you.”

  “You too.” They sat, and Olivier beckoned the waiter over. “Could we have a drinks menu please?”

  “No need,” Enda said in his deep, accented tones, “Red. Third down from the top.”

  Both brothers laughed, and the waiter nodded. He knew these Gallo brothers – they had been coming to this restaurant for a few years now, and were good tippers. They treated him with respect – unlike their asshole brother Jackson.

  The restaurant itself was mid-range, less flashy than the places Jackson liked. It had a frontage which opened out onto a jetty overlooking the Bay. They sat outside so Enda could smoke. Olivier grinned at him as he lit up a cigarette. “You ever going to give up?”

  Enda squinted through the smoke. “Probably not.”

  Olivier grinned. “Fair enough. How have you been? I didn’t get to see you much at the wedding.”

  “As I recall, you were doing your best man thing, trying to keep the toddler under control.”

  Olivier rolled his eyes. “Mostly for Amalia’s benefit. Poor kid looked shell-shocked.”

  “She’s no kid.”

  Olivier’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t like her?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just meant, she’s a grown woman, she knew what she was getting into.”

  Olivier chewed his lip for a moment. “She did it for her sister, Enda.”

  Enda nodded. “I’m just saying…it sucks for her.”

  “Yep.”

  They paused while the waiter brought their wine and they ordered their food. Enda sat back and took a slug of red wine. “She’s beautiful.”

  “Who?”

  Enda rolled his eyes. “Our brother’s new wife.”

  “Of course, sorry. Yes, she is. Also, brilliant, funny and smart.”

  Enda nodded. “She also seems to have…what is the word…empathy?” He pronounced it ‘em-patty.’

  “Like I said, she’s a sweetheart.”

  “You like her?” Enda grinned at Olivier’s eye-roll.

  “As my sister, yes.” Olivier chuckled. “If it’s any of your business, I’m seeing someone.”

  “Oh yes? Wait, please tell me it’s not that blonde from the reality show?”

  Olivier laughed. “No. That was…jeez, what was I thinking? Anyway, no, she’s a journalist from San Diego. Helena. Early days, but yeah, she’s cool.”

  Enda looked skeptical. “A journalist?”

  Olivier grinned. “Not that kind. She’s focused on business and financial stuff. I like her.” Their food arrived then – steamed salmon for Olivier, rare, bloody, steak and garlic butter for Enda. Olivier shook his head laughing. “Dude, you are a walking heart attack.”

  Enda grinned, his smile lighting up his intense features. “Hedonism is my default position.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Olivier cleared his throat. “So, what did you think?”

  “Of what?”

  “Amalia.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “You said that.”

  Enda shrugged. “I don’t know her, Olly. I barely spoke to her. If you tell me she is a good person, I believe you.”

  Olivier speared some asparagus with his fork. “Enda…I’m worried. Jackson, lately, had been more…out of control, than normal. This deal he made with Amalia’s father…you know he engineered it so that Ama was practically forced into this marriage.”

  “Ama, is it now?” Enda teased his older half-brother, but then his smile faded. “That sounds just like Jackson though. He always got what he wanted, didn’t matter how.”

  Olivier sighed. “I know, but this is a person we’re talking about. If - and when – she does something he doesn’t like…Enda, he has addictions. Cocaine, for one
. And this thing with Ama…he’s obsessed with her. I’m worried.”

  Enda looked away from his brother’s gaze. “What can I do?”

  “Stick around ‘Frisco for a few months. Help me keep Jackson on a steady keel. See how the land lies.”

  Enda closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and Olivier could see his internal struggle. Enda hated Jackson with the fury of a thousand suns, but he didn’t owe Amalia Rai anything. He didn’t even know her.

  “I’m thinking about Dad in this too. If Jackson were to do something rash, or worse, Dad wouldn’t survive it. I’m not saying you owe him anything either, but for me, maybe.” Olivier’s voice was low and Enda nodded.

  “I will stay. I can oversee the business from here. We have been thinking of opening an office here…maybe it’s time. I’ll talk to Raffaelo in the morning.”

  Jackson Gallo was frustrated. It had been a month since the wedding and Ama had barely spoken to him, let alone touched him. She attended functions with him, behaved impeccably, but he couldn’t bust through those walls of hers. Her bedroom door remained locked and barred…if it wasn't for the fact that his father slept in the same house, and that their staff also were there at night, he would have busted down that door and taken her.

  But he knew she would leave him if he forced himself on her. So, to sate his aching balls, he had started fucking other women almost immediately after the wedding. If Ama guessed, she didn’t seem to care, and it drove him mad.

  It had been particularly galling that since the wedding, Gajendra Rai’s business had flourished, being linked to the Gallo name. And Amalia’s sister, Selima had settled into her new life as a student in Los Angeles. It seemed to Jackson that Amalia had reaped the rewards of their union, while he still hadn’t.

  He sat in his office now and decided to call her. She picked up the phone eventually, sounding harassed. “What do you want, Jackson?”

  He rankled. “Well, for one, I’d like you to speak to me with respect.”

  Amalia sighed. “I’m busy, Jackson, what do you want?” There was no noticeable shift in her tone.

  “I would like to take you out to dinner tonight.”

  “Fine.”

  “Be ready at eight.”

  “Fine.” The phone clicked in his ear. So much for sweet nothings. Jackson put his phone down and smiled to himself. He’d actually arranged to have dinner with his brothers that night – but he couldn’t resist bringing Ama and showing her off to them. Look at my glorious wife, look how beautiful she is.

  Suddenly an idea struck him, and he laughed to himself. Flicking through his contacts on his phone, he made the call, smiling to himself.

  Ama saw Enda as soon as they entered the restaurant and knew Jackson had set this up on purpose. “I didn’t know we were having dinner with your brothers.”

  Jackson smiled. “Family time.”

  Ugh. More like bragging time. She was being trotted out like a prize horse. But at the moment, she could think of nothing else but Enda Gallo’s eyes on her. God, she’d forgotten just how gloriously good-looking he was. Olivier stood and kissed her cheek, and then she was in front of Enda. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Bella.”

  That voice – deep, mellifluous, accented…dripping with sex. She wondered if he could see the blatant longing in her eyes.

  She was mostly silent through dinner, ignoring Jackson as much as she could, to Enda and Olivier’s obvious amusement. Olivier distracted them all with jokes, and Enda, too, she found was fun to be around. He and Olivier were obviously close, and both busted Jackson’s chops, which was fine by her. For once, she saw Jackson as he really was, the baby of the family. Despite his bragging, he was still just a little kid. Olivier and Enda were men. She couldn’t help but compare them. Jackson, his dark blonde hair slicked back; Oliver, neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes, so beautifully dressed. Then there was Enda – his looks had a wildness to them, a devil-may-care look. He oozed easy sex appeal. God, I want you, Ama thought then pushed the thought away. He was off-limits. At least, now he was.

  “What are you smiling at?” Jackson demanded of her, suddenly, and Ama jumped slightly. Jackson’s arm had been along the back of her chair, possessively, and her back ached from sitting forward to avoid him touching her.

  “Just marveling how different you are from your brothers.” She said coolly. You don’t snap at me like that. Ever, her eyes said, and Jackson backed off. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go freshen up.”

  In the bathroom, she splashed some water on her face and tried to stop thinking about Enda. When she finally got up her courage to go back to the table, she exited the bathroom. She gave a little cry of surprise as two hands gripped her waist from behind and pulled her back into the dark alcove. She turned and saw Enda smiling down at her. “Hello again.”

  His voice sent thrills through her body, and when he kissed her, she couldn’t help give a little moan of desire. They were hidden from sight, and when Enda slid his hands under her skirt, Amalie’s body reacted, curving into his. “I want you so badly,” she whispered, and Enda grinned, his lips rough against hers.

  “If it wouldn’t get us arrested, cara mia, I would fuck you right here. Sadly, I think my brother’s suspicions would be aroused.”

  “I’m not sleeping with him. I don’t know why it’s important to me that you know that, but it is.”

  Enda stroked her cheek. “I know, Bella. Listen…I must see you again. Can I come to your office?”

  She nodded and gave him the address. “I know this is wrong but…”

  His lips silenced hers, and she could feel his erection through his pants. God, she wanted him so badly, her skin felt like it was on fire.

  She went back to the table a few moments before Enda, but couldn’t help but feel that their lust for each other was obvious. Jackson seemed not to notice, though, and when Enda returned, there was nothing in Jackson or Olivier’s glances that gave anything away.

  Ama felt sick with excitement. He wanted her…what the hell was she supposed to do? She barely knew him, but she knew, without a doubt, that she was falling for Enda Gallo…

  To be continued..

  Click here to continue reading His Brother’s Wife

  https://www.amazon.com/His-Brothers-Wife-Michelle-Love-ebook/dp/B0731NCWXJ

  Arsen’s Rules

  A Billionaire Romance Novel

  By Michelle Love

  Arsen Sloan is a thirty-five-year old monster of a lawyer. Highly successful as a criminal lawyer, specializing in murder cases, he has only lost one case in his career. Allen White was the second defendant that he represented some ten years earlier. He was convicted of murdering one of his high school teachers after kidnapping her for a period of two months and eventually killing her.

  Arsen is aware that the man who lost ten years of his life in prison has been released after serving only part of his sentence, gaining his freedom on parole as he turned his life over to God, or so he has made everyone believe he has turned into a prison evangelist.

  Things begin to go very wrong for Arsen and very quickly his freedom is at stake as not one, but three of his kink-inclined lovers have been found murdered. Arsen is into some dark and shady things in the city of San Francisco where he works defending some of California’s worst criminals.

  With his life hanging in a balance that he never thought possible, Arsen avoids his usual BDSM clubs, and goes out to a nice, normal club that many law students frequent in San Francisco.

  For Her Part One

  Cool air hit his face as he left the building he’d been stuck in the last eight hours. His tie couldn’t get off fast enough as his large hands pulled it away from his neck, letting it hang loose.

  He’d felt his throat closing in on him as he was accused of things that were beyond him to execute, beyond him to perform and beyond him to even think of doing.

  Arsen Sloan was a thirty-five-year-old criminal lawyer. Tall, at six feet and nine inches, he dw
arfed most of his colleagues. To make sure they all had even further insecurities in his presence, he kept himself in peak physical condition. Pecs and abs that most men would die to have and biceps the mere sight of made women wet with desire for him.

  Arsen prided himself on his appearance which he used to his advantage whenever possible. He was a machine of a man, using everything he could to get the results that he was seeking, whatever they were.

  In law, he used his well-educated brain to find every last law or case to make sure he won his client’s cases. Arsen Sloan had never lost a case since he began his career as a criminal lawyer, ten years prior. Well, there was that one, but it had only been his second ever case.

  Arsen tended to forget about the first few cases, the first two anyway. He never mentioned the first two, as a matter of fact.

  When it came to sex, Arsen used everything in his personal arsenal to make sure that he stayed on top of that game. Love had played no role in his sex life.

  Love was a word he hadn’t used since he was a naïve kid in his late teens before the girl he thought loved him watched him become broken and near dead.

  Arsen kept his shoulder length waves in perfect order, accenting his dark brown, brooding eyes. Thick, dark lashes surrounded them, giving the slightest hint of a soft side to the hard as nails man.

  After the day of horrible accusations, Arsen just needed a drink. A stiff drink and to be able to unwind, and get rid of at least a little of the tension which filled his muscled body.

  As he got into the backseat of his Escalade the privacy window went down. His driver and long-time friend, Paul, looked at him through the rear view mirror.

  The tension Arsen felt radiated off him and Paul knew better than to ask any questions.

  “To the club, boss?”

  Arsen nodded and closed the door, then ran his hand over his face and rubbed his temples. He pulled a bottle of beer from the little fridge and took it down in one gulp. The evening sky was growing dark and a thin fog was already moving in as they made their way up the coastline of the San Francisco Bay.