Page 35 of Under His Protection

I’d fuck her—all night, every way possible. But that was so far from “faking it” that it couldn’t happen.

“I’m not… yours,” she said as she climbed onto the bed and gazed up at me.

“Everyone is supposed to think that, though.”

“So you avenged me because of our fake connection?” She arched one brow, putting me on the spot.

If she was fishing, if she was testing the waters to see if I’d tell her that she mattered for real, she’d be waiting a long time. I was doing my best to keep myself in check, and I would last longer yet.

I couldn’t cave to her. At least not yet. She looked to me for protection. If she were really my woman, she’d be in a bigger world of danger, targeted as collateral. And I hated the possibility of her ever being hurt again.

“I will always do everything in my power to make sure you are safe, Nina.”

She sighed again, but it morphed into a yawn. “I’m sorry. For not holding up my end of the bargain very well.”

I scowled at her sexy, relaxed position on the bed. Even though we spoke slowly, calmly, and quietly, my heart raced and my dick hardened. This was a gentler moment that we shared here, but dammit, did I want to join her on this bed and really make her forget about what happened earlier.

“How can you say that? How are you not holding up your end well? All those men knew that you were with me. That was the whole point.”

“I know. But…” She shrugged and smiled so faintly and quickly that I knew she was holding back on replying with what was really on her mind. “Forget it. Never mind.” Ever so slightly, she gave me a doe-eyed, submissive expression that tempted me. Like she wanted to tell me without a single word that she desired me.

Oh, Nina… I want to.

Her sexy, seductive gaze was a plea, a desperate beg for me to join her in this bed. Maybe she was too timid. Perhaps she didn’t know how to ask for it and hoped I’d read the message on her expressive, beautiful face.

I did. But I resisted.

Instead, I tested my patience and control. Dipping in closer, I kissed her brow then retreated before I could dare to lay my lips on her anywhere else.

“Good night.”

The disappointment in her eyes irked me, but I knew I couldn’t cave. It wouldn’t help either of us. “Good night, Mr. Constella,” she remarked cheekily, but sleepily.

I smirked, standing straight before turning to leave.

As soon as I exited her room, I hesitated in the hallway. I adjusted my erection beneath my pants, growling lightly at how hard she’d made me.

One glance at her closed door taunted me. It was unlocked. It was always unlocked. She lay in there, gazing up at me with such openness and trust. All I would have to do would be to walk back in and have my way with her.

Though it wasn’t easy, I resisted my desire and strode away before I could act on this damning, hexing connection that had yet to fade.

I’d killed for her.

Reaching my room and knowing I’d need to shower and jerk off to a fantasy of her, I knew I’d do anything for the woman I was supposed to pretend was mine.

14

NINA

Nina

My scrapes healed within a few days. While it was scary to be caught by two men, no lasting trauma bothered me past that first night. It was like I told Dante. Men preyed on women all the time. That wasn’t any excuse, claiming it was the status quo to tolerate and get used to, but there was nothing I could do to change the general mindset the everyday, common men held against women.

Being caught by the bikers and handed over to Reaper did scare me, and as long as I remained in this fake relationship with Dante, I was safe. I’d avoid that fate for as long as I could.

Instead of going back to how it was that first week, Dante was more present. At least in passing. He was still busy—always on the phone or taking off to talk with people. Several times, I spotted him meeting with Franco and Romeo near the pool. The one day I walked out there, prepared to swim, I found them seated at a table under a large umbrella. I'd never wrapped myself back up in a towel and bolted back into the house faster than that moment. My bathing suit wasn’t too skimpy, but it wasn’t the definition of modesty, either. I simply felt bad that I might have interrupted.

After that incident, though, it seemed like Dante was trying to encounter me in his massive house. He came home to eat dinner with me. We didn’t speak. Franco and I carried on chatting the little that we did since he was at the house more than Dante. Still, Dante was there.

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