by M. Robinson
But I knew them. I could work that angle.
With Elaine’s help. My sister trusted Lucian Morelli. She loved him. And I trusted her.
I could set up a dinner meeting and get some answers.
Magnus wouldn’t like it. His protectiveness often prevented him from seeing reason. No matter how many times I reminded him we were a team.
I found it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. And so much hotter.
The thought conjured memories of the year I spent with him at boarding school. When he was Father Magnus, in his white collar and time-honored black on black, delving out his filthy punishments. When I was his student, bent over his desk in a schoolgirl uniform, begging for forgiveness and pushing him to the brink of madness.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
I would happily repeat those words just to feel the burn of his open palm across my ass.
The muscles between my legs pulsed, gathering heat and shivering sparks along my limbs. My breaths quickened, and his gaze shifted, finding mine in the darkness.
“I’ll call you back.” He disconnected the call, pocketed the phone, and murmured my name like a command. “Tinsley.”
“Magnus.”
His hand crept to my knee, and his fingers tapped the inside of my leg. Tap-tap-tap.
I swallowed a whimper and flexed my hips, aching for him.
In the next breath, he reached for me and pulled me onto his lap. His palms glided along my thighs, pushing the gown to my hips as he arranged my legs to straddle him.
“What dirty thoughts just went through your head?” He trailed a finger down my throat.
“I was thinking about your collar. I miss it.”
“You miss the collar? Or the forbidden danger that came with it?”
“All of it. The sneaking around. The fear of getting caught. The thrill in bringing a holy man to his knees.”
“You still bring me to my knees, Mrs. Falke.” He rested his lips against mine, nipping with unholy intentions.
Every day, he thrilled me, scared me, and punished me in new and exciting ways. He was still a practicing Catholic, still went to church every Sunday, and when he returned from Mass, he still fucked me like a heathen.
But our days of desecrating the altar of his church were over, and I mourned that loss.
I glanced out the window and found the soaring skyscrapers of Manhattan glittering around us.
“We’re going to your hotel?” I widened my eyes. “Is that safe?”
He owned a wealth of luxury real estate. If someone were going to attack us, they would look for us in the penthouse of his Manhattan property. It was our home away from home.
“We’re not hiding.” He dipped a hand between my legs and caressed me through the panties. “But we’re going to be safe about it. I trust the security in the hotel more than any other in the world.” He yanked the gusset of fabric aside and penetrated me with a long finger and a vibrating groan. “So fucking wet, thinking about my collar.”
His hot mouth descended, latching onto my lips. With one hand working between my legs, his other roved my spine, my ribs, and the shape of my breasts.
The shoulder straps fell, exposing my chest, and his hungry gaze followed, soaking me in.
My body heated. Shudders gripped my thighs, and impatience rocked my hips into a frantic rhythm.
“Always so horny.” He pinched my swollen nipple, tweaking it ruthlessly. “So goddamn beautiful. You have no idea the lengths I will go for you.”
Then his hands were everywhere, stroking and teasing as I panted and squirmed. My legs widened shamelessly, and I bore down on his rock-hard erection, smearing wetness all over the expensive fabric of his tuxedo.
I didn’t care that I would leave a stain. I didn’t care that the driver could hear us. I was wild with need, feeding on his hissing breaths and begging him to open his fly and give us what we both needed.
When he didn’t, I reached between us and tackled his zipper myself.
A fiery blast slammed across my backside, making me yelp.
“You’re not in charge.” He caught my waist, lifted me higher, and spanked me again. And again.
I choked, gasping through the shocking pain, my hands grappling him around the neck as the punishment stole my breath.
His palm came down again, only this time, it landed softly, sensually, gliding across my welted flesh and melting my bones with white-hot bliss.
Good lord, he was good at this. A master at balancing pain and pleasure. I could come just from his discipline.
“Look at you.” He licked the slope of my neck. “Perfect.” His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs circling the tips as his lips closed around my earlobe. “Irresistible.”
I moaned, long and deep, and clenched my thighs around his hips.
“Christ, you’re addictive.” His mouth covered mine.
We kissed like it was our first time—rabid, reckless, and messy. Like we would never have another chance. I sucked on his tongue, and his arms locked around me, holding me as if I might be ripped away.
His affection made me greedy, desperate for release. With his long, hard cock positioned beneath me, I used it like a toy, rotating my pelvis and rubbing my clit along the steely length.
“Don’t stop.” The muscles in his thighs contracted as he punched his hips, his arms tightening, dragging me against him, closer, harder, faster. “Fucking come all over me.”
I saw nirvana, felt the shimmering steam, and surrendered to an explosion of heavenly sensation.
“Magnus…” My spine bowed in the cage of his arms, my pulse erratic and skin ablaze with tingling flames.
Jesus, it crept up on me so fast it was almost embarrassing. Aftershocks crackled through me. My legs lost all strength. I couldn’t feel my face, and the world had stopped moving.
Or maybe it was just the car.
“We’re here.” The driver stepped out and shut the door.
“Great timing, your highness.” Magnus set me on the seat and straightened my gown, his voice hoarse. “You’ve left me with a raging ache in my balls and a hard-on that will surely clear out the lobby.”
Not to mention the glaring wet spot on the front of his pants.
“Let’s go make a memorable entrance.” I traced a finger along his stiff bulge. “Then I’ll help you with that ache.”
He leaned in and kissed me languidly. “You seem hellbent on torturing me.”
“Says the sadist who gets off on my tears.”
“Touché.”
He clasped my hand and led me into the lobby.
If his appearance didn’t draw attention, the entourage of bodyguards certainly did. Everyone stared as we marched toward the elevator.
A peek at his groin confirmed he still stood at full mast. It didn’t impede his powerful, long-legged gait, but damn, it couldn’t be comfortable.
“Eyes forward, Mrs. Falke.” A gravelly sound strangled his voice.
I bit down on my smile.
We didn’t stop or exchange another word until we reached the penthouse.
Our luggage arrived with us. Armed men filled the luxurious space, and I was beginning to think my plans for his cock would be eclipsed by more pressing issues.
Until he followed me into the private bedroom and paused on the threshold.
“Unless it’s an emergency,” he announced to the main room, “do not disturb us.”
He shut the door and locked us inside the master suite.
Thud, thud, thud went my heart. Oh God, it was so on.
“The toxicology test came back.” He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and ambled to the built-in bar. “The wine you spat out wasn’t poisoned.”
“So it was just the one bottle? A single attempt?”
“For now.” He grabbed an already open bottle of red and poured two glasses. “I know you wanted to drink tonight. Everything that passes your lips going forward is safe. I swear on my life.”
�
��I know.” I sat on the bed and removed my heels and jewelry.
Another murder attempt wouldn’t come by poison, but I appreciated his attention to detail.
Carrying the wineglasses, he set them on the nightstand and stretched out beside me. “The woman I was with in the ballroom…”
“The redhead?”
“Yes. Lie back.” He waited until I obeyed. Then his hand traveled along my leg, slipping beneath the gown. “I met her for the first time tonight. Her family owns a chain of golf resorts that they’re looking to sell. Caroline believes they would make a good addition to our holdings.”
“Do you?” I trembled beneath the diabolical fingers inching up my thigh. “Do you want to invest in that business?”
“I did.” He reached my panties and paused, his gaze fastening on mine. “Until the woman propositioned me.”
“She wants to fuck you.” I’d assumed as much.
“So it seems.”
“What did she say exactly?”
“I want to fuck you.” His mouth pinched with disgust.
“Well, she doesn’t mince words.”
“Neither do I.” He rolled me to my side, unzipped my gown, and stripped it away. “I told her to go fuck herself. The deal is off.”
“But it was a good deal?” I sat up, wearing only my underwear, and scrutinized his brooding expression. “You wanted that investment.”
“I’ll find another one.”
His aversion to other women filled me with warm, girly delight. But the Magnus of twenty years ago had been a very different man. Before he was a priest, he’d used his devilish sex appeal to destroy women in the corporate world.
I never wanted him to revert to that, but we needed to find a middle ground.
“I hate to break it to you, handsome, but every woman who sees you wants to fuck you. Unless you only negotiate with men, you’ll have to deal with some aggressive flirtation.”
“I want you to run the business with me.”
“What?”
“Stand at my side, attend all the meetings, and participate in the negotiations.”
“And glare at the women who want to fuck my husband?”
“You already mastered that.” His eyes crinkled as he lowered his mouth to my breast and kissed the sensitive peak. “I want you to learn the rest.”
I made a groaning sound. “You had better luck making me read the Bible in school.”
“I want you to think about it.” His tongue rolled, circling my nipple.
Hard to think with his lips suckling me like that. I gripped the back of his neck and arched into him. Holy fuck, it felt incredible.
“Tinsley.” He sank his teeth, inflicting an unbearable sting that edged toward cruelty. A warning.
“Oh my God, stop!” I pushed at his mean face, unable to escape the pain. “You don’t have to be an asshole. I’ll try it, okay?”
“You’ll try?” He licked the hurt, watching me with hooded ocean eyes.
“Yes. I’ll learn the business. But if I hate it…”
“I’ll never ask you again.”
“Okay.”
“Wow.” He grinned. “That was easy.”
“What can I say?” I lay back, stretched my arms above my head, and spread my legs. “I’m an easy girl.”
With a heated chuckle, he grabbed the wineglasses from the nightstand and straddled my hips. He still wore his pants, shirt, and bow tie, and here I was in only panties.
Perhaps I was too easy?
“Do you want to get drunk?” He sipped from one of the glasses, his stare lazily roaming my breasts. “Or get fucked?”
“Both.” I reached for the second glass.
“No.” He pulled it away. “I won’t violate you while you’re inebriated.”
“Violate me? Oh, come on. You violated me in a church. While I was your student. While you were a priest. I’m twenty years younger than you, and that didn’t stop you. Yet you won’t fuck me while I’m wasted? That’s where you draw the line?”
“What you’re suggesting… It’s a dangerous thing to offer to a man like me.”
“I trust you with my life, Magnus.” I took the wine from his hand. “With or without my faculties, I’m yours.”
I raised the glass to his.
“And I’m yours.” He clinked our drinks together, and we drank.
For the next few hours, we drank and talked and fooled around and drank some more.
By the second bottle of wine, neither of us was wearing clothes. We spilled some red on the bed, imbibed the rest, and couldn’t stop smiling.
“What?” He sprawled over me, chest to chest, staring down at my mouth with the biggest grin on his gorgeous face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Wine stained his breath, rich and warm and heady. It also slurred his words. Just a little.
“You’re too drunk to fuck.” I giggled. Such an annoying sound. I never giggle.
“Think again.” He circled his hips, jabbing me with his obnoxiously hard length.
He’d teased me with it all night. Edging me toward orgasm. Denying me. And beginning again.
But he was done playing. The wine was gone, all conversations finished. There was nothing left to say. Our lips knew what came next.
We moved at the same time, our mouths colliding, and I was a goner. His tongue found mine, rubbing, possessing, aggressive yet gentle as his hands parted my legs and his body settled in.
With the first glide of his cock against my pussy, he didn’t thrust. Instead, he tempted my flesh open and gave me the tip.
Embers of pleasure burst in my belly, igniting a sonic blast of sparkles that spread through my system. I gasped into his kiss.
“I love you,” he rasped.
My insides turned to butter. “I love you, too.”
He braced his arms over my head, our lips touching and breaths coming in spurts. We shared air. Intense eye contact. Thundering heartbeats.
I was soaking wet for him. So wet there was no resistance as he impaled my body, achingly slow and deep. He wasn’t a small man, not anywhere, and his girth filled me to capacity.
“Fuck.” He buried his face in my neck. “Goddamn, you feel good.”
He licked and kissed his way back to my mouth. And the passion in his eyes as he watched me? The pure, unadulterated love shining there? It was more intoxicating than the alcohol coursing through my veins.
I was drunk on him, on the way he moved his hips, stroking in and out. Surrounded by solid muscle, his weight, his heat, his hunger—I felt all of him as he sank to the root, taking all of me. I’d already given him my heart. He could have the rest. I was his, my attachment to him eternal.
We were locked together, head to toe, but it was his gaze that held me the closest. With every thrust, those lust-stained eyes never strayed. I loved the way he watched me, like a man before the altar, paying homage to his salvation.
He gave me faith. Not faith in his god but in him. Wrenching moans from my throat, conquering me with every plunge, he took me with skill and purpose. He gave me the fantasy. He was my religion.
His rhythm quickened into feverish pumping, and we rolled across the bed, writhing, changing positions, and clawing to press closer, deeper.
“Fuck, yeah.” He pinned me on my back with my knees bracketing my head. Slamming into me like a piston, he didn’t slow, didn’t let up as he hurtled us into mindless, feral fucking. “Christ, that’s it. Fuck my cock. Take it all.”
My brain detonated. I saw double vision and bit down on his lip. Almost there. So damn close.
I closed my eyes and reached for it.
“Look at me.” He clutched the back of my neck. “I’m about to explode. Let me see those gorgeous eyes while I fill your cunt with come.”
My gaze shot to his, and a growly sound of approval rumbled past his lips.
His hips lunged into a frenzy, fucking me raw, like we were seconds from death. I welcomed the soreness, the stretching, the ungodly fric
tion. I basked in his brutal lovemaking and fell into his unwavering stare.
“Oh fuck, Magnus.” Garbled noises tore from me as I convulsed around him, coming, coming, coming. “Don’t stop. Oh God, don’t stop.”
He pounded harder, chasing his release and finding it moments later with a guttural roar. Hoarse grunts filled the air as he filled my body with warm liquid.
I held him close, savoring the erratic thrusts that brought him to a slumberous, unmoving heap of muscle atop me. We melted together, legs entwined, hearts knocking. Two boneless, well-used bodies.
He was fucking heavy.
And snoring.
“Magnus?” Trapped, I shoved at his concrete chest. “Hey, asshole.”
“Shhh.” With a sleepy groan, he rolled to his back, taking me with him and keeping us joined. “Don’t move. I’m going to sleep inside you.”
Sure you are.
Apparently, he was drunker than I’d thought, the sound of his breaths already sliding into a deep sleep. I lay across his torso, saturated in his delicious heat, and waited for his softening cock to slip out.
His come bathed my thighs with stickiness, a sensation I welcomed. I intended to sleep with him smeared all over my skin, but there was something I needed to do first.
Quietly, carefully, I slid out of bed, crept into the bathroom, and called my sister.
“Tinsley?” She sounded groggy. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry to wake you. I need your help.” I pulled in a slow breath. “I need to arrange a dinner meeting with Lucian Morelli.”
Chapter Four
Magnus
Four days had passed since the poisoned wine had been delivered to my wife. No more attempts had been made on her life, but I’d eliminated every opportunity.
I kept her under lock and key in the penthouse. We didn’t leave. I didn’t allow visitors. Her food underwent thorough testing, and I conducted all investigations from my laptop and phone.
Not even my most trusted employees were permitted near her. Short of burning down the whole damn hotel, no one could touch a hair on her precious head.
Meanwhile, dozens of people worked day and night to help me hunt down the threat. Galen had followed Eliza Bancroft home after the party, and there he remained, running surveillance from the shadows of her building.