Page 40


He felt her gasp as he rubbed her clit between his fingers, the silk barrier of her panties adding to the friction. She was so responsive, always so ready for his touch.


Looking up, he restrained a curse as the limo pulled into the estate. He didn't know how much longer he could wait to have her, to sink his cock inside the velvet fist-tight grip of her pussy. The way she took him, milked his flesh, and stroked him to completion was a hunger he couldn't seem to sate.


Straightening from her, he helped her to slowly sit up, taking his gaze from her only long enough to watch as the front doors opened and the security personnel gave him the go-ahead to exit the vehicle. Abdul opened the limo door.


He trusted the men he had hired--men he knew could not be bought by his brothers, and whose loyalty was tied to him through the club.


"Khalid." Their commander stepped outside, well armed, his piercing gaze scanning the darkness for threats before turning back to his boss.


"Any problems tonight, Braque?" Khalid asked, as he stepped from the limo. He turned and helped Marty from the car.


"We had some visitors by the north fence." Braque strode down the steps with one of his men. They flanked him and Marty as they moved to the house. "No one got in, but I wanted to be here myself in case they tried again."


Hard-eyed killers, that was how many men described Braque's elite security force. Khalid considered them more of an insurance policy. Better his enemies die than Marty be harmed further.


Braque and his men escorted them into the house. Khalid noticed with a sense of amusement that Marty showed not so much as a shred of recognition where Braque was concerned. He knew the other man had made her several offers to join his security teams. Offers she was actually considering.


"We've kept a constant check on your suite as well as the rest of the upstairs rooms," Braque assured him, as he and Marty moved to the stairs behind one of the other guards. "Will you be going up now?"


"Yes, we're retiring now," Khalid assured him. "Should we need to leave my suite, you will be informed."


Braque nodded. "I took the liberty of having a tray of food sent to your room when you arrived. I know what Anger's buffets are like."


"Filled with calories with no staying power," Marty remarked with a light laugh.


"Exactly." Braque's answering grin was filled with amusement.


And he liked keeping his clients alive. The easier it was to keep them to one general area, the better he liked it. Hence the food waiting for them in the suite. It would keep Khalid and Marty from wandering the halls in need of a midnight snack.


While moving up the stairs, Khalid kept his eyes on the men ahead of them. They were spread out, less obtrusive than many bodyguards he'd had over the years, and much better at their job while staying well back.


At first he had been hesitant about accepting Ian's suggestion that he hire them until this situation had been resolved. Now he was thankful he had. Someone had tried to slip onto the estate the very night that Shayne hadn't been with them to help secure the house.


Even Abdul had been unaware that Shayne wouldn't be there until they had left. Whoever his brothers had hired to attack Marty hadn't worried about facing Khalid as well as two FBI agents. Fortunately for Khalid, no one had known until this evening that Braque and his men were watching the estate.


"When did you hire them?" Marty asked, as they stepped into the suite.


She turned to stare at him as though trying to read past whatever answer he would give her.


"Several days ago," he informed her. "They've been staying out of sight until tonight."


"You didn't trust Shayne and me to protect you?" She laid her little purse on the antique table just inside the door.


"I hired them as backup, not protection. Besides, you're my lover, not my bodyguard," he answered her. "I had them secure the house when I learned Shayne wasn't returning with us tonight."


"I see," she murmured, moving farther into the room. "So, will they be here permanently?"


"I would imagine they will be. At least for a while," he told her. "I sleep easier with you in the bed sleeping with me. Neither of us will have to worry about the security of the estate this way."


Khalid followed her slowly, crowding her closer to the large bed on the other side of the room.


"Do you have a problem with this?" he asked her silkily.


"Would it do me any good to have a problem with it?" A delicate brow arched mockingly.


"We would, of course, discuss it," he promised, as he shed his evening jacket.


"Oh, I just bet we would." Eyes narrowed, she watched as he toed his dress shoes from his feet.


"I'm always willing to discuss any problems you might have, dear," he assured her, as he began to loosen the buttons of his shirt.


"Somehow I doubt it would be an acceptable discussion." The edge of mockery in her voice had his lips tilting in acknowledgment.


"I would always do my best to accommodate you," he promised her, as his gaze flicked over the ballgown she still wore. "However you need."


"And if my needs didn't include sex at the moment?" Her head tilted as her arms crossed over her breasts. "What if the discussion topic was something that required words rather than actions?"


His brows arched as though in surprise. "I assumed all discussions require words rather than actions. Have the rules changed?"


"Whenever you decide to try to change them," she shot back.


Khalid almost chuckled. She was a fiery little thing; he loved that about her. He would never manage to get anything over on his Marty; she would always see him for the man he was. Whether or not that was a good thing, he wasn't certain at the moment.


What he was certain of was the complete hunger raging through him. He needed her. His dick was a fiery throb, his lips ached to kiss her. Like a drug he had been too long without, his entire body was edgy for her.


"You should inform me when you make these decisions," she told him, as he moved closer to her. "Don't pretend I know everything that's going on here. And this decision to hire a mercenary force without my knowledge is bullshit. You should have consulted with me first."


His nostrils flared. "I do not have to consult with anyone where my protection and the protection of my woman are concerned."


He watched her expression tighten. Her chin lifted to a stubborn angle, her gaze darkened. He hadn't thought he could feel hornier, but that look proved him wrong.


"I am fully trained." She bit out the words, ire punctuating every one. "Have you forgotten that?"


Khalid was treading a very fine line, and he had the sense to know it. Just as he knew that if the ground rules were not established now, then the problems down the road would only amplify.


"While you are in my bed, sleeping in my arms, I am your protection," he said, as he gripped her waist and pulled her to him. "Hear that, Marty. Know it. You may call the shots at any other time. But during those hours that you are my lover, I will ensure your protection with my life."


He didn't give her time to argue. As far as he was concerned, there was no argument. His lips covered the words ready to spill from her, his tongue stroking along the satiny curves before pushing in to tease her tempting little tongue.


"This is no way to win this fight," she gasped, as he pulled at the skirt of her gown, jerking it up her leg to allow his hand to stroke beneath it.


"This fight has already been won," he informed her, trying to breathe through the hunger pounding through him. "The unit is here, they are on guard, and, by God, you are in my arms. I win."


He was certain she would have said more. The woman could argue for hours, he knew. Rather than give her the chance, his hand slid to the wet triangle of silk between her thighs and cupped her firmly.


Instantly, her expression softened, a flinch of pure pleasure shook her body, and Khalid couldn't hold back the growl that tore from his throat at her response.


"I want to be inside you." Lowering his head to her ear, he nipped at the lobe as his fingers found the delicate little nub of her clit and rubbed it sensually. "I want to watch my cock sink inside the snug heat of your pussy, Marty. I want that with every breath inside me."


She was melting in his arms. As he pulled aside the elastic curving around her thigh and slid his hand inside the minuscule material of her panties, he felt her melt against him.


Parting the curl-shrouded folds of flesh, his fingers slid instinctively to the clenched, tight opening he sought.


Marty knew she should fight this. She should demand her independence here and now, because later might well be too late. But, oh God, the pleasure. Her head fell back on her shoulders, her hands gripping his neck as his lips traveled to her shoulder to kiss the sensitive flesh there.


His fingers, broad and heated, the tips calloused and sensually rough, parted her flesh and began to work inside with such sensual pleasure that Marty felt her senses skyrocketing.


Heated dampness spilled from her pussy, spreading along his fingers as he moved them inside her, caressing and rubbing the most sensitive spots with erotic destruction.


It was like setting a match to fuel. Her heart rate thundered as perspiration coated her flesh and her sex became hotter, slicker.


"Ah yeah, sweet baby," he crooned, the rough, sexual vibrancy in his tone making her womb clench. "I could make you come now. Feel you tighten on my fingers and spill all those sweet juices for me to lick away later."


She nearly came in that second. What he did to her should be outlawed. It shouldn't be possible. Her knee bent, her leg lifted along his as she fought for a deeper touch, a harder thrust from those diabolical fingers.


"There, precious, open for me." Approval thrummed in his voice as he sank deeper inside her, his fingers shafting her slow and easy as she began to shudder from the pleasure.


A distant part of her was aware of him moving her. He lifted her with his spare arm, angling her back as his fingers continued to possess her.


She expected to feel the bed as he stopped. A little surprised gasp left her lips as he lifted her instead, pushed her back along the table behind the sofa, and stepped between her spread thighs.


"God yes," he said, as he pushed the skirt of her gown to her waist, the taffeta bunching above her thighs as his gaze centered on where his fingers sank inside her.


"Khalid." She cried his name out, one hand gripping his wrist at the side of the table as her hips arched to one hard, fierce thrust as his thumb raked over her clit.


"So damned beautiful," he breathed out roughly. "You have no idea, Marty, how beautiful you are to me."


His fingers stroked, eased, stretched her. Flames surrounded her, white-hot and intense as they burned through her nerve endings, leaving her gasping, shuddering in near painful pleasure.


"Here." His hand lifted, breaking her hold on him before he gripped her wrist and brought her fingers between her thighs. "Play with your pretty clit for me. Let me watch, baby. Let me see your pretty fingers as you pleasure yourself."


She had never done that. Never had another watched her masturbate, or aided her in the pleasure as she touched herself. A flush stole over her body, burning her higher as she let her fingers circle the sensitive knot of nerves and she felt his fingers moving inside her.


Her back arched at the first caress against her clit, as he timed the thrust of his fingers inside her. Sensation shot up her spine from her sensitized sex, washing through her body in a blaze of heat.


Her head thrashed against the table, and a long, low moan escaped her lips. It was so good. She stroked her fingers over her clit again, her teeth biting into her lip as his fingers shafted inside her, deep and strong, nearly sending her soaring as they stretched and filled her.


It was exquisite. Pleasure was a steady stroke of intense sensation and breath-stealing vibrancy as it shot through her, then rained over her nerve endings like a shower of heat.