Page 10 of Protect Me

If she knew there was a camera in her room, she’d freak out, but I told her she couldn’t play with herself, and I plan to make sure she follows my rules.

Just because Isabella isn’t allowed to touch herself doesn’t mean the same rules apply to me, though.

My eyes roll over her curves. I lower my sweatpants and let my cock spring from the fabric, aching for release. I wrap my hand around myself, rubbing in long strokes as I drop my head back and imagine our time on the couch playing out differently. That I didn’t peel myself away from her.

Yeah, I have bad thoughts sometimes, where no doesn’t quite mean no. I imagine pulling her shorts aside and taking what she’s forced to hang on to. Her virginity.

How good would she feel?

How hard would she fight me?

Of course, I would never steal her innocence. I’m contractually obligated to ensure she doesn’t lose it. And I’ve never forced any woman, because I’ve never needed to. She tempts my inner beast, but she’s a temptation I’m paid to ignore and keep anyone else from being tempted by.

It’s really fucking hard when she’s so tempting, though.

I stroke my cock to the thought of her beneath me, her mouthy words morphing into moans as I make her feel better than any leg she’s ever humped.

“Really?” says a voice that makes my cock twitch. I open my eyes and see Isabella standing in the doorway. I never heard her come in. I whip up my sweatpants and look at the now vacant bed on my phone screen.

“What the fuck?” I drop my hand over my lap.

“So you can rub one out, but I can’t?” she asks, leaning against the door frame.

“I’m not the one getting married off.” I get to my feet and walk across the big ass bedroom to meet her gaze head on.

“What were you thinking about?” she asks, crossing her arms.

You. “None of your business.”

She throws her dark hair over her shoulder. “I’m surprised your dick even works, old man.” She sure knows how to get on every damn nerve a person has.

“My dick works just fine, thank you.” I know she can see my erection just fine, because her eyes are locked on it. “The only dick you need to worry about is your shitty future husband’s.”

Her lips tighten. Did I hurt her little feelings?

“Show me,” she says, her gaze rising to mine.

“Not happening.” I step into her and force her toward the hall.

She digs her heels in. “Please?” she begs, pushing out her full lower lip.

Fuck.

I lower my sweatpants again, letting my cock fall from the fabric. Her mouth drops open.

“How many cocks have you seen in person?” I ask, wrapping my hand around my length.

“None.” She clears her throat. “Well...one now.”

“All those boys you’ve fucked around with, and you’ve never seen their cocks?”

She shakes her head. “It’s always been through clothes. Besides, I don’t think any of them had something like that.” Her dark eyes rove over my hard length, and her thighs clench together.

Fucking. Temptation.

She reeks of it.

And I can’t do my job if I keep staring it down.

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