My Protector by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Fifteen

Becky

Late nights mean I always sleep late but knowing I’m with Dillon now makes me want to be awake for more of him.

Hearing his deep voice fill the room as I sleep is a hook I can’t help but bite.

His heavy strokes on a keyboard bring me back from sleep. Back from the dream where I know he finally claimed me, a shiver running through me as I struggle to recall the details.

Living for the real thing now.

A dream come true because that’s what the man is.

I stretch and yawn quietly, not wanting to disturb him but he lets out a low sound of disapproval.

Like he’s done something wrong by waking me.

“You should be asleep,” he says firmly but cocks a brow smiling once he sees me propped up on one elbow. Half of my chest I can’t contain, spilling out from his robe I still have on.

A tangled mess under the sheets really, but I didn’t want to be without it.

His scent. His manliness all over it, wrapping me up and giving me the best sleep I know I’ve had ever.

“And when do you sleep?” I ask, hearing that sass in my own voice I know he enjoys already.

Watching his lip curl into a wry smile when he tells me he couldn’t sleep.

Being so close to me unclaimed. Not a hundred percent his.

I flush visibly, feeling my hands tremble as I tell Dillon again that I want to. Because I do.

“I- I really wanted to, last night,” I stammer, but he’s already walking over to the bed, standing over me and stroking my hair back.

“I know you do, and this is waiting for you whenever you’re ready,” he growls gently with a knowing look, sliding my hand under his robe.

Letting me feel his stiffness under my touch as I gasp. The warmth of him, his constant arousal already waiting for me as he grows hard for me again.

His eyes burning into mine.

“It won’t be long, I- I promise.” I shudder, rejecting my urge not to stroke his manhood. Yearning for his touch already, his taste all over me again.

Remembering the heat of his come on my chest. His strong hands in my hair as I made him feel just a thousandth of what he does to me by simply breathing.

“That’s all I need for now,” he says, leaning down and almost kissing me but stopping himself.

I remember what he said about kissing me.

About not being able to stop if he started.

“You’ve been busy,” I observe, having noticed him at his desk, papers, phone, and laptop at the ready.

His brow crease as he explains.

“Just doing what I can to get my old life back. This business with Sawyer and that club runs deep. So deep I actually think I was sent there for a reason,” he says thoughtfully.

I feel my chest tighten, knowing we both have to go back. He for his own reasons and me for mine.

The image of my landlord making me feel uneasy so early in the day.

“I need to go home, at some point. To get some clothes at least.” I hear myself tell him, watching his brow crease further, darkening.

“Last night… Everything was great, but I can’t just let you carry me, Dillon,” I explain. “I need to pay rent. To pay my own way,” I add, proud.

The kind of proud that’s actually a call for help, really.

“How much do you owe?” he asks firmly, making me red in the face as I look down, tracing the sheets with my hands.

I tell him and he makes a low sound, shaking his head.

“We’ll pay your rent, Becky. But I won’t have you out of this house another night. You’re mine now, understand?” he affirms.

I feel my head nod. All the willfulness is gone from me with his strong, deep voice echoing through the room.

Our room now.

The relief that comes from his claim is something that’ll take some getting used to.

But we still have to go back to work at the club, don’t we?

Dillon still has things to fix in his own world, even if I’m a part of it now I still can’t help but feel like I need to do something. To contribute.

“I’ve made some inquiries. A few favors from friends in the security business,” he explains, moving away from me only so as not to be distracted.

I nod in question, and he only hints at how there’s more to the club than just gaming lounges and a bar.

I feel my chest tighten again.

Old habits, I guess.

I tell myself I need my job, that Dillon needs his to stay on probation as well, but his eyes are telling me a different story.

Something bigger than myself that I hope I’ll never have to fully understand. Something that makes me worry for him.

“Just tell me you’ll be careful,” I beg him, chewing my lip, feeling a strange thrill. A mix of worry and admiration for the man.

Knowing full well he can look after himself though.

He gives a knowing look, a firm nod as his chiseled jaw tightens.

“You’ll never have to worry about me,” he promises. “But… We’ll have to keep going to that club, our shitty jobs just for a while yet,” he adds.

My puzzled look makes him tilt his head before flashing a broad smile.

“The courts don’t have all my assets,” he says. Sliding a drawer open, a thick wad of crisp bills with one of his firm fingers reminding me of the fact.

“We’ll pay your rent, get you out of that apartment and pick up your things as well as whatever else you need. How does that sound?” he asks, making everything sound more like a command than a question.

My eyes want to remain fixed on the ream of bills as my head bobs in silent reply. Wondering how come he has so much money.

My heart is fixed on his thick fingers and firm hand, willing my body to make myself his as soon as I can.

Gulping hard at the thought of his real assets. That feeling he gives me. His huge cock inside me making me cream all over it as I shout his name.

That’s what I want, I know it now.

It’s like destiny and I know Dillon can read me like a book.

His age, wisdom, and experience shine through when he tells me to get ready for breakfast, which is really lunch for regular people.

“Unless you need more sleep?” he suggests, looking concerned again, but only for a moment.

“I think we have another big day ahead of us,” I remark, grinning.

“Tomorrow’s off, and Tuesday’s a shorter shift isn’t it?” he asks, which I readily confirm, already thrilled at the idea of a whole day of Dillon to myself after today.

“Then I’ll order us some breakfast,” Dillon announces, looking more pleased with himself as he scopes my chest out as I shift out of bed.

Most of my chest seeming to follow me first, giving him a view I know to be more than what he really wants to eat.

Tonight.

I promise myself, and with my eyes, I promise Dillon.

Tonight, I’ll be yours.

His body seems to know it more than words can say. He grins to himself as he leaves the room telling me everything in reply.

The only answer I need.

I’m his, and once he fixes his little problem. I’m the focus of the rest of our lives if that’s what I want.

And I do want.

I need and want him.