Page 35 of Fierce Protector

What sort of questions are these? And how the hell does he expect me to form complete sentences when he’s pulling the soft fabric to the side and tracing my entrance in long, languid strokes? The juxtaposition of his soft touch and how tightly he’s pulled the lace edge of the panties against my clit has me rocking my hips against the glorious friction, ready to fall apart from simply riding his hand.

“Uh-uh-uh, Katerina. You come when I say you can come.” His command rumbles through me, demanding my submission and though I know I’ll plead for more, my body wants nothing more than to take what he gives, when he gives it.

“Please,” I beg, drawing out the word into a seemingly endless whimper as I scratch my nails along his neck.

I cry out at the loss of his touch, when he suddenly grabs both my wrists and pulls my arms down to my side, forcing my palms flat against the wall. “Keep them here or I’ll stop, and you won’t come at all.” I whine and his expression darkens, his pupils widening into dark pools that have me wanting to dive right into them. “Do I make myself clear?”

The authoritative tone in his voice vibrates against my skin where his lips graze my collarbone. It sends atingle through me that travels straight to my core. I flex my fingers but my palms remain flat as I use every bit of restraint I have to keep them exactly where he’s placed them.

Resting his hand against my throat and flexing his grip against my rampaging pulse, he says, “Such a good girl when you want to be, aren’t you?”

He steals a kiss from my lips before releasing my jaw and sinking to his knees before me. I’m entranced as he wraps his hand around my ankle, stroking up slowly moving to cup the back of my calf. When he reaches my thigh, I let out a frantic moan, struggling to stop myself from knotting my fingers in his hair and demanding he bury his tongue in my aching pussy.

I’ll behave. I’ll be a good girl. Anything if it means I can watch him worship me on his knees where anyone can walk in on us.

He grips the back of my thigh and pulls my leg off the floor, resting it over his shoulder and I cry out when this leaves his hands free to grasp my panties and tear them free. There’s a bite of pain where the lace tightens across my hips, followed by complete bliss as he seals his mouth over my clit and buries two fingers in my pussy.

There’s no teasing preamble, just the instant pleasure of his insanely skilled tongue circling and his teeth nipping at the swollen bundle of nerves, while his thick digits fuck into me. The stretch is everything I need, and any hope of remaining quiet goes out the window when he curls his fingers, brushing against my G-spot.

The pace he sets is brutal, and exquisite, and transcendent. I don’t know whether it’s the fear of beingcaught, but something stops me from letting myself tumble off the edge. As if he knows my body better than I do, Stefano shifts the angle of his hand and alters the pressure of his tongue. The changes are minute, but it’s like he’s coercing my body into obeying his demands and won’t be denied.

My walls clench as my orgasm peaks, but instead of retreating, Stefano doubles down, sealing his lips tight and sucking as he thrusts against my swollen clit. It takes me by surprise, drawing a string of desperate pleas. “Fuck, I can’t take it. Holy fucking god.”

His free hand holds back the train of satin against the leg I still have firmly planted to the floor, allowing me to see the wicked expression on his face when he pulls back to say, “I’m not stopping till you soak my face and let me drink you down.”

He punctuates every other word with the brutal thrust of his fingers before diving back in and increasing the pressure of his tongue as it undulates against me. To say that I shatter would be an understatement. Debauched sounds reverberate off the stark hallway surfaces, amplifying them into a cacophony of sin. My groans synchronise with the unwavering rhythm of his thrusts. My body coils in on itself like a spring before releasing in one monumental crescendo.

It's impossible not to blush when my body gushes, coming straight into his eager mouth. I’ve never come so hard—or felt so untethered. Stefano sets my leg on the floor and stands, studying my expression with a mix of tenderness and awe. My cum glistens on his lips and it only adds to my bliss when he smiles back at me. Hisdimple showing just how much he enjoyed devouring me.

I’m desperate to have him come too, but he pulls my arms from the wall and wraps me in his tuxedo jacket before sweeping me off my feet. He kisses my temple, whispering praise like a prayer. “Such a good girl for me. Doing as you were told and letting me worship you.”

I gaze into his eyes, oblivious to anything other than the affection staring back at me. Nestling into his hold, I rest my head on his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh and closing my eyes. Just for a moment.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

STEFANO

Nothing will ever feel as good as loving her. Though I can’t deny that making her fall apart and still tasting her on my tongue ranks pretty highly. Her breathing is soft and flutters across my collar as I carry her towards the service elevator at the end of the corridor. From my weeks navigating this place, I know it’s the least public route out of the hospital and I’ll be damned if I take her out the main entrance looking freshly fucked and half unravelled.

Seeing her like this is a privilege that’s only mine to treasure.

She doesn’t stir as the elevator car descends, or when I step out into the cold night air on the way to the parking lot, however when I stop in my tracks as we approach my car, my abrupt halt jolts her awake.

“What’s wrong?” she says. I don’t look down at her, but she gasps as she realises what I’m staring at.

I gently lower her to the ground, unsure how to temper the fury that’s building in the pit of my stomach. It’s not the smashed windows or the tyres that have been shredded that have me clenching my jaw so hard I can hear my teeth squeaking as they grind together. No, it’s the dozens, if not tens of dozens, of white roses that have been torn to pieces and strewn over the hood. A hood that’s also streaked with what I hope is red paint and not blood.

We both take a step forward and as she reaches out to touch the petals, I drag her towards me. “Don’t touch,” I snap and she tenses in my arms.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Her tone is firm but there’s an obvious wobble to it. I don’t argue with her, I just hold her a little tighter before letting her go again.

“I thought he’d calmed down,” she says with a sigh, wrapping her arm around herself and shrinking into my jacket. That one gesture of vulnerability makes me feel like a failure. I haven’t done a good enough job of protecting her.

I’m dialling Marcus before I comprehend that my phone is in my hand. “Bring in Costello. Now,” I bark out. Silence stretches out on the other end of the line, which only serves to piss me off further. “Is there a fucking problem, Marcus?”

There’s a nervous cough before he finally answers. “I can tell that now is not the time to question you, but that might be a little tricky.”

“Tricky, how?” I shout, my words bouncing off the walls of the parking structure so loudly they ring in my ears, and I see Katerina flinch out of the corner of my eye.

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