Protecting Isabelle Read online

  She gave a surprised cry as she bucked upwards with the force of the stinging blow. He did not hit the delicate folds too hard. Only her bottom could be pummelled harshly. That was his own private rule when disciplining a woman over his knee. The slaps to her sex were to enforce the notion of male power he held over her body. To encourage her shame and humiliation at being punished in such an intimate manner.

  It was a practice Christian loved to execute when exercising his dominant nature in a spanking. He liked to feel the springy curls of a woman’s closely cropped pussy bouncing against his hand as he cupped it possessively and delivered a slap- the small pink nub of her clit catching between his fingers. He often found that after the first few slaps, a woman became incredibly wet and her cries turned to moans of pleasure-pain. This lady was no exception, but to his delight on the first pussy slap he found she was already wet from her bare bottom being spanked. He was convinced she wasn’t even aware of her arousal.

  Still maintaining control, he slapped her vagina just a touch harder and felt a surge of triumph when she gave a helpless moan of pleasure. It made him wonder if he had been trying to interrogate her or arouse her. Creamy moisture coated his hand. He ached to take her.

  Making a quick decision, he ended her painful chastisement and lifted her up off his knee to standing. Her beautiful face was flushed with confused desire when he came to stand in front of her. His eyes drifted to her pretty pink lips. They were moist and glistening, inviting his touch and their capture. He moved towards her, his intention to brush her lips with a kiss and test the water. But something stopped him dead.

  Chapter 3

  “Who hit you?” he asked softly, seeing the fading bruise across her forehead and around her eye. She hurried to pull her underwear up and push the skirt of her dress back down with shaking fingers. He hadn’t seen it at first, but her tears had smudged her make-up and laid it bare.

  “He didn’t hit me this time. It happened when he banged my head off the wall.” Her words were a whisper as he watched her mentally replay back the memory. Her eyes scrunched with the painful scene for a second.

  It was Christian’s turn to tense. He blinked, feeling the familiar anger that was coiled so tightly inside him raise its ugly head.

  Just like Marie, beaten and raped and there was nothing I could do.

  The woman was looking at him with confusion, obviously trying to read his thoughts and second-guess what was coming next. He stared at her, seeing the pain behind her eyes. But behind it he could see her incredible strength shining through at him like a defiant beacon. He couldn’t help but admire it. Christian’s handsome features lost their sternness.

  Damn fool. You know better than to trust a woman.

  But she’d touched something deep inside his heart, struck a chord with something that had turned hard, black and withered since Marie’s death. This woman was feeding it a little water and giving it some hope that it could live again. He stopped staring at her and cursed loudly. She jumped with fright in response. He reached out to stroke her cheek, enthralled by how soft and delicate it was against his fingers. Her long dark lashes fluttered, captivating him.

  “You are safe for now, beautiful. But if you don’t tell me what you are in my room for…” He stopped, frustrated. She had unsettled him. “I will have no choice but to turn you over to the police.”

  You are not going to win this battle with your sugarcoated helpless female demeanour and catch me off guard. Oh no, I am not allowing that to happen to me again.

  Marie’s death made him learn the hard way about falling for women and feeling sorry for them. Maybe he should try another tack with this woman. He toughened inside again, intent on protecting himself emotionally.

  He replaced his fingers on her cheek. Her eyes looked down at his hand with marked suspicion.

  “Hush, I won’t hurt you like he did.”

  “Look, I didn’t come here to steal anything. Please let me go.”

  He ignored the plea in her voice.

  “You came into my room unannounced, uninvited, in the middle of the night.”

  Christian continued to caress her cheek, gently intrigued by the glow of arousal returning to her face at his touch.

  “I’ve already told you…” she persisted.

  Why fight it?

  He cupped her chin and held it until he could feel her straining in his grip.

  Keep focus. Don’t fall for the trap she is luring you into.

  “I don’t believe you. How about you stop playing games and tell me why you are here? Did someone send you? Are you here to seduce me for them?”

  But he couldn’t resist giving her the once over again, sweeping his eyes over the perfect plump swell of her breasts in the little black dress she was wearing. He thought about how wet her pussy must still be and of the plump little bud between her thighs aching for his touch.

  He wouldn’t mind being seduced by her, but he did have a reputation to uphold. To be caught with a prostitute in a run-down hotel in the middle of Pigalle with a bruise to the girl’s face could conjure up some interesting stories and false accusations that could ruin him. Just like his father wanted. It was probably him who sent her. This was what his father did best, knowing people’s weakness, exploiting them and using them until they gave him what he wanted. And they always did. Then he killed them for it. Well, this time Gabriel Dumont and his precious Mafia family would have to do without his illegitimate and only son. The prodigal son would not be returning to take over the family business and perpetuate the family line. He had escaped years ago, and he was never going back, not even if hell froze over.

  The evil bastard will just have to do without me.

  The woman surprised him when she looked at him directly with her own determination not to be caught off guard.

  “Don’t be stupid. I came over the balcony from the room next door. If I wanted to take your virtue, I would hardly risk my life like that, would I?”

  Christian’s eyebrows rose with surprise, and he couldn’t help smiling. The woman had balls and he liked her more than he wanted to admit.

  “I don’t know, I’ve heard worse stories.”

  The amusement lining his words seemed too much for her when her eyes narrowed to sharp points.

  “What is your name?” He lowered his voice to a whisper once more.

  “Isabelle,” she answered automatically and visibly regretted her slip of the tongue. She began moving her feet, clearly feeling the heat of the painful strain on her neck and chin.

  “That’s a beautiful name, Isabelle.”

  Christian’s hands slipped to her neck. His fingertips trailed her skin, just where he knew she would be most sensitive to touch. She tensed and viewed him with suspicion again. But he could feel her skin warm and flush pink against his fingers.

  “Isabelle who?”

  Isabelle closed her mouth tight shut. Christian grinned and decided not to pursue her name any further for now.

  “Isabelle is fine. Now Isabelle, there is something you could do for me, something that would excuse what you have done here tonight and what you have come here to do.”

  “But I haven’t done anything, and I’m not here to do anything!” She was most insistent trying to disguise the audible panic in her shaky voice.

  He put a finger to her lips to beckon silence and cupped her shoulders with his hands.

  “I know you are aroused. I felt how wet you were when I spanked you.”

  She didn’t say anything and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes, settling her gaze on the floor.

  Got you. Can’t deny it now. You just gave it all away. You want me to take you just as much as I want to.

  Christian moved closer, sweeping his arm tight around her waist. His hand caught the back of her head to steady her while he bent to kiss her. At first she seemed reluctant, pushing at him with her hands. He considered breaking it off but as he began to pull away she moaned and opened her mouth inviting him inside. He wa
s quick to take advantage as though she were a potent drug he needed.

  Christian wrestled her tongue for dominance with a hard kiss. She whimpered at his strength and with a pleasured moan surrendered to his control. He found the zip of her dress. She smelt so clean, fresh, pure and delicate. There was a smell of jasmine and wild flowers on her skin when he broke from her lips to nuzzle at her neck. Isabelle was a breath of fresh air in the horrible dingy and dirty room. He heard her breath pant with need and respond heavily to his kiss.

  Without further hesitation Christian pulled down the zip of her dress and opened it wide to bare her back. A whimper broke free from her lips making him pull his lips away from hers. He stared at her intently looking for signs of fear and a change of heart. For a moment she appeared confused.

  “I won’t hurt you. I know you want this as much as I do, but if— ”

  She shook her head at him and propelled herself back into his arms to hold on to him. Desire flared inside him at her simple action but his heart also leapt with the fragility of her need. He eased the dress off her shoulders, directing it over the swells and dips of her curves until it slipped to the floor and pooled around her feet.

  Replacing his palms on her shoulders, he lowered them down her back with firm pressure and felt her shiver against them. Kissing her mouth again, his hands dipped to grasp her naked waist and spun her around until her bottom faced him. She gasped with the speed of the sharp movement.

  Her breasts and sex were covered by silky coffee-coloured lace. Tantalising as it was to see her breasts cupped and restrained by it, he wanted her naked. Isabelle’s body was warm and buttery when he pressed her back against him. He could feel the intoxicating rub of her soft skin against the taut lean muscle of his six-pack visible through his open black shirt. But he wanted to feel her breasts rubbing against his chest, her erect nipples flexing against his muscles, her sex, warm and moist next to his powerfully muscled thighs. Then the ultimate, he wanted to nestle himself inside her body and take her hard and firm.

  Christian undid the catch of her strapless bra and lifted the cups away. He tossed the bra to the floor and greedily captured both plump milky mounds in his hands. He grunted with pleasure. Isabelle gave a soft delicate cry and arched her body back against him. He pulled at the nipples, teasing and tugging them painfully until they grew tighter.

  Christian swept his hands down across Isabelle’s lightly curving stomach, down over her hips and to her buttocks. His warm palms skimmed the coffee lace as he caressed her neck with his lips from behind again. With a firm tug he tore at the flimsy material until her bottom was bared once more. She bucked against him with force, rubbing her bottom against his hard cock sheathed in his trousers. It pressed up against the crease of her bottom driving him on. With his palm he guided Isabelle to bend her body forwards until her reddened punished bottom thrust out at him.

  “Bend over. Put your feet flat on the floor and open your legs,” he whispered.

  Nervously she obeyed his command. Christian cupped her sex possessively with his hand from behind unable to resist giving it three firm spanking slaps. Isabelle yelped and pushed back against him. A rush of moisture coated his hand making his cock strain to escape the confines of his trousers and enter her swiftly. She was so open and vulnerable in this position. He was completely in control. Aroused pleasure at the strength of his dominance and the care he should take coursed through him.

  He nudged his penis between the crease of her buttocks taking time to view the enchanting spectacle before him. Her pink-blushed spanked bottom and thighs were raised up in offering to him. The woman’s full hips were erotic reins to hold on to and her sex was open wide and so wet moisture glistened on her dark curls like rain on leaves after a storm. The little pink bud poised between her pussy lips pouted like ripe fruit.

  Isabelle shuffled, trying to stand again.

  “No, I want to take you this way,” he ordered, smacking his hand against her bare bottom three times.

  “I want your legs wider, Isabelle. Now!” He gave her buttocks another slap and reached through to her pussy to give it two sharp taps. Quickly she obeyed him as a slave would a master and kept still.

  Christian left his shirt on and simply undid his trousers, lowering them down his thighs. The idea of quickly lifting out his cock and simply taking her whilst partially clothed was intoxicating. It would also help Isabelle to feel her submission to a clothed man whilst she was naked and vulnerable more keenly.

  He guided his penis to her sex and rubbed the tip over her clit, using his fingers to nip and tease it at the same time. Isabelle’s moans came loud and fast in between her pants for breath. He tugged at her clit hard producing a heavy rush of fluid that flooded her pussy. Satisfied she was ready for taking, he bent to squat a little. The muscles in his thighs were powerful and toned, making the action easy.

  He entered her slick channel, holding her hips tightly to prevent her from falling forwards as well as allowing him to thrust deep inside her. He pulsed in and out of her fast, still maintaining his slight squat position, enjoying the feel of her hips and the view of her bare back and her punished red bottom.

  Christian heard her cry out, close to release. Her pants were hard. Once more he increased the pace of his thrusts, making them hard and deep. She came over the edge and her orgasm exploded around his shaft pumping in and out. With a growl of satisfaction, he allowed himself to come spilling his seed hot and fast inside her channel until his penis was spent.

  Chapter 4

  Christian moved out of her reluctantly. He wanted to take her again. Unexpectedly, she had been loud in voicing her strong orgasm thrilling him to the core. He zipped up his trousers and gallantly picked up her dress to hold it out to her. Her shredded underwear was lying on the floor. When she finished hooking her bra and took her dress, Christian scooped up the panties he’d torn from her hips and threw them in the small waste paper bin. There was nothing to salvage.

  He heard himself apologise. She pulled the dress up over those sexy hips, swaying them from side to side as she slid the material up her body, mesmerising him.

  You shouldn’t be let out with that body. It’s lethal.

  Isabelle folded her arms across her chest and looked around the room. She appeared unable to meet his eyes.

  What next? What kind of game are you playing? You should be flattered with my attention. I have already been reeled in, hook line and sinker.

  She was supposed to use it to her advantage, offer him her delights, the treasures of her body, work her way out with her looks.

  That is how this game is supposed to work, honey.

  His eyes lowered to her chest, noticing the way her breasts moulded the cups of the dress to perfection but something caught his eyes around her throat.

  Christian moved closer, gently catching her arm as she tried to back away. More bruising. He felt pissed off at himself, pissed off at her for having bruises and making him think about it and what he really should have done with her. Closer examination revealed fading purple and yellow bruising around her neck in a perfect circle. A man had tried to strangle her.

  A familiar rage slashed down his middle and settled with fury in his fists.

  How can a man inflict damage like that on such delicate, fragile skin?

  Christian didn’t even know the man, but he wanted to kill him anyway. Ignoring her small protests, he gently, carefully cupped her throat and trailed his fingertips around it. Christian reflected on the scenario in which she received the injury, making sure his touch was light, just like a feather’s. Still she gave a small wince indicating she still felt pain from her injury and that it hadn’t been long ago when it had been inflicted. A painful memory creased his brow, tensing his hand.

  He could still see Marie lying dead in her home, the one she’d gone back to, trying to make things work with that bastard husband of hers, the one she left him for. There was blood everywhere. Her skull was caved in and she was naked, raped several ti
mes. Her drunken husband was slobbering all over her, saying he was sorry over and over again.

  The words rang in his ears even now. He’d tried to help her in the past, but she wouldn’t let him, kept making excuses for the bastard. That time he’d washed his hands of her, told her that if she went back, he couldn’t help her again. She didn’t want his help. That bastard— it’s all he could call him— and his mates thought it would be fun to take turns with her. When she objected, he’d caved her head in. Christian blinked, trying to clear the image from his mind and realised he couldn’t breathe. It had taken nearly ten gendarmes to keep him off the fucking bastard.

  He suddenly backed away from Isabelle, afraid of the force of his anger, knowing she was the trigger of his guilt. She looked bemused, fear creeping back into her eyes. Christian put his hands on his hips, feeling awkward and a little remorseful.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he stopped.

  She was heading for the door. He caught her arm easily and swung her back round. “Hey not so fast, you still haven’t told me what you were doing in my room.”

  Isabelle looked at him as if he were toxic poison. He could feel her tremble, making him wonder whether it was with fear or being close to him.

  You can look at me that way all you want, but I know you wanted what just happened between us just as much as I did. It was written all over your face and no one screams with pleasure that loud when they are coming if they didn’t enjoy it. You also like being disciplined, honey. You were so wet afterwards. So take that haughty look off your face.

  Something had happened between them in that rundown cheap hotel in the middle of Pigalle. It was more than just a casual fuck. She possessed something he suddenly realised he needed. He knew it was the same for her. Christian swore under his breath.

  You sound like a fucking Romeo. That’s something the old Christian would say, the new one is cynical and bitter. It’s safer that way.