He moved them down to rest just inside her thighs, before the curving lips of her sex. She was roused to movement, suddenly feeling desire pulse unexpectedly making her aware of just how wet she was between her thighs.
Oh God, you like being spanked. It’s official. What is wrong with you? You should be ashamed. Maybe you liked it when Declan hit you. No, no I didn’t. That was different … How the hell is it different? It is, it just is … I know it is. Shut up, shut up. What am I going to do?
Carefully she tried to move away, but Lucien tightened his grip and probed his fingers between her pussy lips. The moment he touched her, electricity crackled inside her vagina and coursed through her body making her yearn to orgasm. The need was so great she panted.
“Mmmm, you are so wet, so aroused." He found her lips and kissed her lightly. Burning need for her smouldered in his eyes as he stroked her clit, flexing it back and forth between his fingers. A rush of wetness flooded her pussy making her physically ache for him to penetrate her with his fingers. She moaned with pleasure, allowing him to capture her lips and kiss her passionately, his tongue reigning dominant in her mouth, wrestling her own tongue to take control. Beaten back, she surrendered, whimpering against his lips, overwhelmed with her own need.
Seconds later, Lucien lifted her up against him and reached to remove her underwear. Still with his lips against hers, he carried her across the room to stand her up against the wall. He placed one hand above her, trapping her there and sought out her pussy with his fingers again. Possessively he caught her lips and kissed her fiercely.
Isabelle felt two of his fingers begin to push inside her slick creamy channel with urgency. Involuntarily her hips arched upwards to make it easier for him to curve them and caress the rough wall of her vagina that marked her g-spot. She cried out throwing her arms around his neck to hold on with the strength of desire burning inside her. Lucien increased the pulse of his fingers, in and out and the strength of his kiss. Her sore bottom banged against the rough wall, increasing the warming sting helping to flare her desire as it reminded her of Lucien’s masterful control and discipline of her body.
“Come for me,” he whispered. “I want to see how you come.” He was breathless.
For the last time he turned up the heat, thrusting his fingers in and out of her at a devilish pace, stoking the fire with his fingertips across her g-spot until she bucked against them like a woman possessed. He sucked on her bottom lip and then plunged his tongue inside her mouth hard and fast mimicking the pace of his thrusts inside her pussy. That was when she felt herself coming hot and very wet.
Lucien continued to kiss her, but his black eyes opened and viewed her with passionate intensity as her eyes glazed, saturated with deep pleasure. The moment her orgasm ended, Lucien broke away from her lips and hurriedly turned her around. He took her hands and placed them flat against the wall. He paused to kiss her neck, sending her wild.
“Let me take you. I need to be inside you!” His voice was ravenous with need. He took hold of her buttocks, making her cry out, using them to force her to open her legs, to give her encouragement. He pressed her back down, directing her to bend and thrust out her bottom towards him.
The desire he had built inside her before her first orgasm was insatiable and she desperately wanted to come again with deep penetration. She wanted him inside her channel, claiming her just as much as he did. In the last few days she had been reminded that sex wasn’t just a chore to placate a violent man with a fake orgasm. It was to be enjoyed and to feel warmth and, dare she say it, respect and closeness even if it was from a dominant man who needed to hold the reins to her body.
She nodded, moaning loudly when he trailed his lips along the nape of her neck once more. She felt him move away her. Then she heard him loosen his belt and pull down the zip of his trousers. Isabelle heard the material of his black trousers swish down and across his tightly muscled thighs. Her heart thudded. Her sex flooded in anticipation.
Lucien wound his arm around her waist as he guided his hard long length to her pussy lips. She felt its tip caress her clit back and forth, making her moan and grind her hips back against its glossy wetness. But he grew impatient and soon after she felt it nudge the entrance to her velvet channel fervently. Lucien circled the small hole and then pushed his penis inside her body, creating a heavy aching need for him to be deeply seated within her vagina, stoking the fire of her passion for a second time.
His push was gentle at first, careful. He reached down to manipulate her clit, nip and tease it as he thrust a little harder. When his caress produced a rush of creamy moisture to her sex, he thrust hard and to the hilt with one push nearly sending her over the edge. Deep inside her, he pressed his large palm over one of her small hands against the wall for support and nuzzled her neck, furiously pumping in and out of her.
Pleasure and happiness danced through Isabelle’s mind. Rampantly she pushed her hips back against him to meet his thrusts. His fingers continued to caress and play with her clit until she could take no more. Her panted breathing signalled her closeness to coming. Lucien appeared to be waiting, holding back until she was ready. It touched her heart. He began stabbing his thrusts, slowing them down, expertly aiming them more precisely towards the back end of her channel.
Her orgasm exploded with force making her cry out and give a loud sob as her uterus contracted with overwhelming pleasure. She had never felt an orgasm so deeply inside her body before. Lucien gave a growl and came hard, claiming and marking her internally with his hot seed. Isabelle’s pleasure spread outwards to the tip of her clit, through her vagina and out across her thighs, finishing in her toes.
When the force was spent, her body slumped, ready to hit the floor, but Lucien caught her and held her up, curling over her, brushing her neck with gentle kisses. She felt his fingers curl through hers and hold her hand against the wall. Enthralled by his protective care, she pressed her body back against him to show her pleasure.
“You are a beautiful woman, Isabelle. If we had the time, I would put you in that bed and take you all night. I don’t think I would ever tire of making love to you, Cherie.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He gave a laugh of disbelief. “Why do you thank me?”
“For caring.”
“I will always care and— We must go.”
Slowly he pulled out of her. She heard his belt buckle rattle as he pulled up his trousers, zipped and belted them. It would be useless to start objecting again. There was no way of escape and she was still basking in a warm afterglow of their lovemaking. It was a feeling she did not want to lose. She made to pull down her bunched skirt but his hands were there, holding her small waist and pulling it down for her, smoothing it over her legs in a seductive manner.
He grinned at her when she turned around. He picked up her suit jacket from the chair and held it open. She slipped her arms inside and allowed him to help her put it on. That was when she spied her underwear lying on the floor. She went to retrieve them when he caught her arm and stopped her. He shook his head.
“Leave them off,” he said, smiling wickedly at her.
“I can't!"
Lucien picked them up and tossed them into the bin. “Yes you can,” he corrected firmly. His words were final and she did not venture to say any more on the topic.
“I will send someone over to pack and bring your clothes and things to the house.”
She nodded and went to get her bag, rubbing at the tears that had dried on her face and smudged her mascara. Her movement was too quick and the room began to spin as it had done last night. She felt herself falling to the ground, unable to correct her balance. Lucien caught her, skilfully pulling her up against him. He frowned his concern.
“You need food and rest,” he stated. He scooped an arm up under her legs and swept her into his arms. Feeling nausea and another wave of dizziness consume her, she cuddled against him. He bent his head and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
/> “Let’s get you home,” he told her softly, calling to his man to get her bag when he had mastered opening the door with her in his arms. She saw no more as darkness consumed her. She fell faint in his arms.
Isabelle stirred to wakefulness in the car. She found herself nestled in Lucien’s arms. His fingertips soothingly traced the outline of her face, helping her to rouse. He smiled gently.
“How are you feeling?”
“What happened?”
“You passed out in my arms, Cherie. I am going to have you examined by a doctor when we get you home.”
He was about to say more, but the driver of the large black Mercedes in which they were travelling suddenly started swearing in French at a driver. Both Lucien and Isabelle looked out of the window and saw a car heading straight for the front of the Mercedes. Isabelle cried out, stunned, just as it smashed into the car’s bonnet from the side, sending the Mercedes spinning around. She clung to Lucien. The car screeched across the lane, coming to a crashing halt as its front end buried into a bollard. Isabelle fell across the seat, Lucien on top of her.
“Keep down,” he ordered, moving off her.
She watched him pull out a handgun from the holster underneath his suit jacket and open the car door. He was aiming it at someone the moment he stepped outside. Isabelle heard Christian Dalban’s voice echo loud and clear in her ears.
“Let her go, Deschanel. Give her to me or so help me, this will be the last fight we ever have.”
Chapter 10
Lucien glared at Christian. Their rivalry was about to reach new heights. Both were prodigal sons for two of the most dangerous families in Paris and Europe and the same age of thirty-one. The only difference was that Christian was an illegitimate child. And both sons had rejected the family business. Lucien ran his own light smuggling business and a successful legitimate construction business, which he had begun in his middle twenties after leaving University. Christian Dalban had been a soldier and was now a bodyguard. The two sons were equally as profitable in their chosen careers. Their Mafia families’ just hadn’t anticipated them to develop morals and set themselves apart. Constantly made to compete with each other and Declan from a very early age, all three men were at each other’s throats with misplaced resentment at every turn.
Now they were fighting over possession of Isabelle. There was no way Lucien was going to allow Christian take her away from him. He had been in love with the woman for years. The age difference had never been a barrier for him. Isabelle was the woman of his dreams, always had been and would always be. She was strong and brave, but at the same time incredibly vulnerable and fragile like a child. She needed to be taken in hand and cared for until she felt safe and able to trust him.
Something had happened in Isabelle’s past. An event she wasn’t ready to talk about. He had no doubt in his mind that she had been raped. When he took her to his home, he would regress her to being a child and provide a safe warm environment that would allow her to confront her past and reveal who had hurt her so deeply before Declan had inflicted his own special brand of pain upon her. Lucien wanted all of Isabelle and until she could exorcise her demons, he would only ever have part of her.
“Give her to me, Lucien, or so help me I will kill you. I am protecting her from Declan Mayer,” Christian shouted, keeping his weapon trained on him.
“You aren’t doing a very good job of it. I am doing a much more effective job.”
“Yeah, right, that is why she escaped from you at the restaurant. Hand her over.”
“No, she is coming with me. How long do you want to stand here? Until the police come? I can hear the sirens now. Make your mind up or neither of us will be able to protect Isabelle. I am not giving up so let this go,” Lucien was determined he would not lose Isabelle this time.
Whatever it takes.
To Lucien’s fury Isabelle got out of the car and was shouting at them, trying to stop them from shooting each other. He wanted to spank her hard when she placed her trembling dizzy body between both of them. She outstretched her arms and begged them not to hurt each other. Lucien marched up to her and caught one of her arms trying to drag her back but Christian took hold of the other and tugged the other way. They were swearing and cussing at each other, ready to pull her apart to take possession of the prize. It was almost farcical, boyish and childish. Yet Lucien wasn’t going to let go, and neither was Christian. They kept attempting to pull her their way, threatening each other with their weapons, but a screech of tyres from a black car skidding around the corner of the small street drowned out the approaching police sirens.
Three men in sunglasses and black suits got out of the car and started shooting at Isabelle. Instinctively both Lucien and Christian placed themselves in front of her and shot back, managing to two of the men.
Lucien made a decision and he made it quick the moment Isabelle was nicked in the arm by a stray bullet. He scooped her up in his arms and told Christian to get in the car with him. The driver had scarpered. Under cover from Christian he put Isabelle in the back and got in the driver’s seat revving the damaged car. Luckily, it was still roadworthy. He pushed open the front seat door for Christian who got in. Slamming the car into reverse, Lucien backed it all the down the small street under the cover of a hail of bullets. Then he spun it round and headed out on to one of the busier roads in Paris.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Christian, we are going to have to work together to protect her,” he shouted, checking through the rear view mirror to make sure they were not followed. “Declan might be trying to get her back, but the other family members seem keen to eliminate her and just take over the business no matter what."
“I work alone.”
Lucien gave a heavy sigh. “That is going to have to change. I don’t like it anymore than you, but if we want to keep Isabelle alive then we are going to have to.”
Christian said no more and Lucien knew he was thinking about it. He glanced back in the rear view mirror at Isabelle who was clutching her arm. Blood was pouring from it and she was frantically trying to stop the flow by pressing down hard on it. Her beautiful features were tightened with pain. He needed to get her seen by a doctor. She looked close to passing out. Christian leaned over the back of his seat trying to help her.
“You need to stop the car somewhere,” Christian told him in an agitated voice. “I need to see to her arm.”
“One more mile and we will be able to turn off the motorway. Try to hang on, Isabelle,” he called over his shoulder.
Relief flooded him when he turned off the peripherique and down the dual carriageway towards his home in La Bois Tuille. A couple of minutes more and he was on the small country road. Quickly he pulled the car to one side on the grass verge and stopped.
Both men leapt from the car as though in a race to get to Isabelle first. Lucien undid his tie and wrapped it around her arm. Isabelle’s eyes began to roll. Christian put the back of his hand gently against her forehead. Isabelle was turning a deathly white and breathing fast.
“She’s clammy. I think she is going into shock.”
“Yes. That wound is deeper than I thought. Hold her. I will get us to the house as soon as I can. It’s going to be a fast bumpy ride. We need a doctor to look at the wound before it becomes infected.”
Seconds later, Isabelle slumped unconscious in Christian’s arms. Lucien found it hard to leave her in Christian's comforting arms, nestled against his chest, but he was the only one who knew where they were going. Putting his jealousy aside to focus on the job at hand, he got back into the driver’s seat and drove at dangerous speeds along the twisting country road.
“I agree we are going to have to work together on this,” Christian said suddenly. “I really hate the idea, but it looks like there is an army out there trying to bring her down. On top of that, someone is stalking her and I am sure she knows who it is. Someone from her past.”
Lucien raised one of his seductive dark eyebrows at Christian through the rear
view, the episode in the lift coming to mind. “I think someone raped, Isabelle,” Lucien said gravely, turning the card down the path towards Chateau Florian, his home.
“I agree,” Christian sounded downcast. “I also believe her uncle, Michael Mayer didn’t just die of illness. I think he was murdered and Isabelle knows who did it. It could have been anyone from the Mayer family or our own. Perhaps it was all of them. Mayer sport has become too important to let Isabelle control it.”
Lucien glanced at him again and raised another eyebrow, this time a jealous one when he saw him stroke Isabelle’s hair and brush a kiss over her forehead.
“More than likely. I have an idea,” he said suddenly. His jealousy and his tug of war over Isabelle with Christian was going to have to wait. Her life was in danger. “We need to know exactly what went on and who did this to her. I know a way we can make her feel safe enough to talk freely to us. It will also keep her safe and obedient.”
“I’m listening.”
The car pulled into the gravel courtyard in front of the chateau. “Do you remember that erotic school we were sent to by our fathers together on summer break from University? I know you remember the spanking classes well. You spanked Isabelle perfectly.”
It was Christian’s turn to look surprised.
“Do you remember how we were taught to tame a woman and make her obedient alongside the spanking?” He grinned.
“Oh yes. Let’s do it,” Christian answered enthusiastically. “In a short while, little Isabelle, you will be telling us everything we need to know,” he whispered, kissing her forehead as though she were a child.
Chapter 11
Isabelle stirred from her sleep, blinking her eyes open. Gentle sunlight penetrated the room, giving her the feeling of early evening. She felt comfortable but there was a distant dull ache coming from the top of her arm reminding her of having been shot and the events of that morning. She tried to sit up suddenly but found the bed in which she lay was moving and her movement was hampered by her ankle being tied to something.
Protecting Isabelle Page 8