Page 41 of Protégé King

She blinks her beautiful green eyes at me. “What?”

I catch her hand and walk her to the living room, leaving her standing as I sit on the couch. “Undress for me, Alana,” I say again.

Alana has always been on the right side of shy, always unaware of her beauty, and I’m aware of this. I’m also aware that I’m unnerving her, but it’s all about gauging how much trust we have left, if any. She has every reason to hate me, to never trust me again. Too many reasons, but none of my own doing. I would never hurt Alana. On the other hand, I’m willing to hurt those who want to hurt her, even my own father.

But I need her with me, all the way with me, and I knew that would be my challenge.

The idea of a fake fiancée to complete my merger would have been a hard no if not for Alana, but that need served a purpose. It presented me with a favor I needed from Alana. I know Alana well enough to know she won’t turn her back on me unless she believes I turned my back on her. And we almost ended up there tonight.

“You undress with me,” she suggests.

“Not yet,” I say. “I want to see you. I want you to want to do this for me. But if you don’t trust me…”

She blinks. “You think I have to trust you to undress in front of you?”

“Not everyone would, but you do.”

There is a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before her chin lifts defiantly. “I don’t have to trust you to have sex with you, Damion.”

It’s her defense mechanism, her way of letting me know that she may well be the one walking away after this, not me. She doesn’t need to prove that to me. I’m aware of the tightrope I’m walking with her. Too damn aware.

She drops the dress and kicks it aside.

My cock does a whole lot more than twitch. I left my clothes on for a reason. I’ve been rock-hard since the moment I touched her, but I’m also determined not to rush this. That’s not what she needs. It’s not what we need. She’s a hell of a sexy sight standing before me in nothing but black thigh highs, barely-there panties, and lacey bra that barely covers her perky, pink nipples.

I’m happy as fuck right now because she did this for me.

Because no matter what she tells herself, no matter how much she claims her undressing for me is just about sex, we both know it’s about trust.

But I’m enjoying the fuck out every second of this.

“Take the rest off,” I order.

She draws a breath and the reaches for her bra, unhooking it and throwing it aside. Her breasts are as high and full and just as beautiful as I remembered. The truth is, that since I was old enough to know it to be true, she has always been perfect to me. All the other women never had a chance. They were just a way to fuck. Alana has always been more to me than sex. And that’s exactly what always put her in my father’s sights.

Because she was always in mine.

And ironically, me coming back to the States to protect her has become the catalyst for me knocking him off his throne. She is the way I end him before he does something all of us will regret. Before he does something that hurts Alana and her family in a way I will never let him survive.

She reaches for her panties, pulling them down her long, shapely legs and then kicks them aside. Her sex is naked when hadn’t been in the past, and a rush of possessiveness comes over me. I don’t know who she shaved for, and I don’t want to know. She can grow it the fuck back for me.

I have never wanted a woman’s submission the way I crave Alana’s right now, and not just because owning her is protecting her. Because I want it. I want her. But Alana is Alana. If I push her too hard, if I push her the way I like to push, she’ll erect her armor and shut me out. Our trust is fragile, and if I test her limits, I may lose her. That means not asking too much, not taking too much, even if I want everything. I toe off my shoes, pull my shirt over my head and toss it before standing up and removing my pants, my cock a damn steel beam at this point.

She stares at my erection, which any man can tell you is a path to getting fucked faster. It also makes us want more attention for our cocks; a hand, a mouth, in this case, her riding me any way she likes will do just fine. I catch her fingers in mine and walk her to me, sitting down and taking her with me. Alana comes down on top of me, straddling me, my cock pressed to her backside.

I fold her close, her breasts between us, her hands on my shoulders. She smells like flowers, honey, and sunshine, and feels even better. And when her eyes meet mine, I’m not immune to what passes between us. The connection. The emotional bond that spans decades. The holy fuck way I want to be inside her every moment I’m with her. I tangle long strands of her silky hair in my hand and drag her mouth to mine. “Do you still think this ends with you hating me?”

“Yes,” she whispers, “but kiss me anyway.”

She presses her lips to mine as if she needs the kiss to drive away some horrible thought that I know I created. I catch her head and deepen the kiss, claiming her with my mouth, driving away her demons. Her fingers dive into my hair, and I give her another reason to forget.

I fill my hands with her breasts and pinch her nipples. She pants into my mouth and whispers, “Damion.”

That’s it. I’m out of willpower. I wrap my arm around her and lift her. And hell, yes, she wraps her hand around my shaft, squeezes me and presses me inside her. I groan with the feel of her, so wet, so tight, and I pull her down hard against me.

“Oh, God,” she murmurs and presses her lips to mine, her fingers diving into my hair. I cup her head and deepen the kiss, tasting her, drinking her in, rocking my cock inside her. She moans and whimpers her soft little sounds, working a number on me. Everything she does lights me up. I thrust, and she pumps. I grind, and she’s right there with me. We are frenzied one moment and slow and sultry the next, but at some point, I just need to be deeper.

I roll her onto her back, lift her knee and drive into her over and over, until she cries out and then begins to quake. I bury my face in her neck and thrust hard and tremble with my release. When we finally tumble over the edge, I ease her leg down and catch my weight on my elbows. How the hell did ten years do nothing to tame how much I want Alana, even after fucking her again?

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