Passion Patrol Box Set 1

Combat-3-5

Anna smiled. So he was a smooth operator. Tomorrow could be police work but tonight she was in Paris with the man who had brought her back to life and who had opened her heart.

“You’re not just a pretty face are you Freddie.”

“The pretty face is your job in this team.”

They began to slide into the center of Paris. She recognized le Quai de la Rapée and le Pont d'Austerlitz as the road slipped past. The River Seine and its bridges were rendered magical by lights. She watched his strong hands on the wheel, longing for the moment when they could touch properly. He eased into a private underground garage.

“Voila - Boulevard St. Michel,” he said with a gentle smile.

They took the lift to his fifth floor penthouse. As the heavy paneled door opened she saw into a huge lounge, one wall of which was filled with leather bound books. An enormous French window opened out onto a balcony looking out over the rooftops of Paris to the Seine. Freddie faded up the mellow wall lights allowing her to see the sumptuous blue carpet and what looked like an original Renoir hanging over an ornate Louis XV fireplace. Antique chairs, clocks and ornaments were tastefully displayed around the room. A large gilt framed mirror reflected a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“It’s so, so lovely,” she sighed as he closed the door behind her with a heavy quality laden click.

She turned to him as he came to her, feeling his strong arms possess and caress her. Her knees physically buckled. She kissed him deeply, her tongue searching shamelessly for his. As he responded she could feel him hardening against her belly. She curled her leg behind his and pressed her longing secret lips against his tight rippled thigh.

He eased his head back and looked at her.

“You are so beautiful Anna - I can’t believe this cruel world has allowed me to find you.”

She lay her head on the contoured bulge of his pecs as he stroked her hair.

“Champagne?” he asked, “this is Paris and it is from my own vineyard... you can’t say no.”

“I’d love it - but can I get out of these old London and airplane clothes?”

He let her go and she dived into the en suite power shower. She was pleased to see that all the materials were absolutely male. The water revived and enlivened her as it cascaded onto her aroused breasts. She reached down, only too aware of the pleasure of her own touch. She stepped out, spotting a white silk dressing gown on the heated towel rail. She put it on, immediately jolted by his scent and presence. Across the back spread the logo 'Lonsdale' and the words 'Le Professeur - Champion du Monde'. She pulled it around her, thrilling to its aromatic attraction. She pulled up the hood and breathed in his pure clean yet animal scent. Wrapping it around her she walked back into the lounge, making her own show of jabbing and punching like a boxer getting in to the ring.

Freddie was standing at the window. He saw her reflection and turned to her with a broad adoring smile.

“Wow - you look fantastic,” he said, smiling and handing her a crystal fluted glass of champagne from the table.

“I love this gown - it smells of you.”

“Yeah - sweat blood and tears my love... I wore it at my last fight - you keep it, I could never make it look so good.”

“Then you’ve lost it baby,” she squealed, “I’ll never give it back.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to keep you on,” he said with a soft smile, “here’s to everything that lies ahead”.

They touched glasses and drank.

“God! That’s good!” she said.

“Vintage Chateau La Salle - just for the boss and his lady,” he smiled.

The delicious anticipation of his touch sent seismic thrilling waves through her body. She stood at his side at the window, fighting to maintain a veneer of sophistication. She finished her drink and he stepped back to the bottle and poured them both another. She drank quickly - too quickly - she knew, feeling a glow as her inhibitions burned away like mist in the morning sun. He had come to stand behind her. She felt him rock hard and urgent against her lower back. A jolt of pleasure rocked her as his lips and the teasing lick of his tongue found her neck and his teeth nibbled at her skin. One hand cupped her breast and gently brushed her n****e. She groaned and leaned back against him as his other hand ran down across her belly into the furrow of her moist core. Slowly he began to massage her inner lips against her firm little button, circling lightly yet more and more urgently. Still he licked her neck in the same rhythm as his other hand matched the pulse of her passion as he gently stroked her n****e. The three pulses of l**t began to overwhelm her and at first she tried to hold back as she felt her o****m building and piling like thunder clouds against a pure blue sky on a summer’s day.

“Freddie - what are you doing to me - I can’t hold back.”

“Let go my angel,” he whispered huskily, “be a woman for me - be my woman ma belle.”

Spasms of joy rushed through her as she let go, sensing his need for her to abandon herself totally to him. Beyond her the Parisian night blended into her consciousness and her surrender to pleasure. He held her as she tilted up her lips to his and kissed him in shudders of ecstasy.

“My sweet baby, my sweet soft baby,” he murmured as she grunted out his name in a blur of love and animal passion.

As she subsided for a moment she turned to face him, kissing him deeply. His desire for her was by now all consuming and he felt a desperation for his own release. A trace of her woman scent gripped his senses. He lifted her in his steel arms as if she had no weight, finding her lips with his. She felt herself carried to a huge antique four poster bed. He gasped at her beauty. Her black hair spread carelessly on the cream satin pillow. He feasted his eyes on the supple softness of her body, quickly removing his clothes and lying alongside her, moving his mouth to her breast and his hand to her gorgeous wet soft valley. The feel of her thrilled him as she opened herself to his touch.

She reached out to him. He was hard and massive and twitched as her hand slowly drew him back to reveal his longing flesh. He groaned but fought to hold back. He wanted to plunge into her haven of warm giving love - for his love for her to unite with her body. His finger slipped gently into her as he turned to move above her. She still held him as he found her entrance and felt the parting of her delicious flooding lips. At last he slid into her, pushing to the limit of her soft depths.

She sighed as his power, length and thickness filled and possessed her. He nudged at the roof of her being somewhere deep in her spirit. Some beast had been released from captivity as his movements touched switches of pleasure and l**t. She gripped his buttocks, thrilling at their relentless steel tension. She began to buck upwards in ecstasy as waves of uncontrolled shudders swept through her. She let out some animal sound as she saw his broad shoulders above her and gasped in the scent of his male body musk.

He felt the pulsating grip of her joy beneath him as he moved slowly inside her soft soaking body. The awareness of his power over her pumped him harder and harder as he began to climb towards the top of an irresistible slope.

She sensed his growing need and the tension excited her beyond control. As he pressed his lips to her neck groaning “mon amour - mon amour,” she trembled against him as surges of o****m seemed to drench her into senselessness.

And now he had reached the summit of his climb. He bit tenderly at her neck tasting her flesh and her sweat. He began to let himself go, feeling the longing sweet agony of need to release. He was gripping her and filling her and she was holding him, pulling him in deeply, pulling in the male of him to her sweet female love flower.

She felt the ecstatic squeezing and pumping of his muscles inside and outside of her as his seed flowed and jetted into her hot molten core, mixing with her own pulsing jolts of their shared c****x. He heard her helpless cry as he groaned her name and gave up control to the power of love and the passion of beasts.

She felt his weight as he subsided onto her breasts. Still he was inside her with the last aftershocks of his release still shuddering through him, as if he were a great tree crashed across her as the storm finally passed. Their bodies were damp with sweat and l**t. Their scent and fluids mixed into mellowness in the pale thin light of the room. He was the first to speak.

“Anna - my love - there is no other woman like you - I just lose myself in you.”

He lay on his back and she turned on her side placing her leg between his.

“You are my man Freddie. I’m out of control too with all this but I can’t stop,” she said seriously.

“I never want you to stop... but maybe one day you will wake up and see that you don’t know me...”

“I know enough - no one can ever know everything,” she said calmly.

She rested her head on his chest as he stroked her hair. Idly she ran her hand over the ridged iron six pack of his stomach muscles. He was beautiful - more beautiful than anything she could ever have imagined. His olive skin was like silk and smelled of male mixed with summer sun and s*x.

With an athletic swivel he lay her over on her side and spooned into her back, whispering butterfly kisses onto her shoulders.

“You are my baby for ever - my angel,” he murmured as they drifted into warm cuddled sleep.

Chapter 12When she awoke it was dawn across the city. The distant foreign sound of an ambulance siren echoing from the Seine reminded her where she was. She ran her foot up and down his muscular calf. A question formed in her mind and escaped before she measured its weight.

“Why are you a boxer - you are a cultured man?”

“It is a noble art,” he murmured.

“You know that’s a cliché,” she fired back quickly.

“This place, money in the bank, the vineyard, the TV Company, the restaurant, my clothes, my car...”

“So it is just about money - even if you could die or get your brains mashed,” she countered.

Suddenly he sat up and distanced himself from her.

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I’m sure you do - that’s why I ask.”

“So - it’s a risk - I calculate that risk,” he sighed with an edge of exasperation.

“But this fight with Brennan - you don’t need it,” she said, wishing she could just open up and tell him everything of what she knew.

“Anna! You’re sweet and loving but you know nothing of this vile business. I need this fight OK. One day I’ll tell you all about the fight game - after it’s over. If I start to mix philosophy with brutality I will end up on the floor,” he replied with a cold finality.

Her heart lurched and she felt a stab of tears. She had spoiled things - something that was always going to be spoiled. She thought of the days ahead, towards the arrival of the mob lawyer Scapaticci in Nice. There was no possible need for Freddie to meet Brennan’s manager! Their love should never have been, could never be - except that she loved him so deeply that she was nothing other than his.

“Freddie - I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m just so frightened of you being hurt.”

“Oh baby,” he said softening his voice and stroking her cheek, “I didn’t mean to be harsh - I don’t want some hard faced b***h who wants to talk about fights and wants me to beat some guy up so that I’m the champ. I love you as my soft baby who just knows me as a man... her guy who goes off and does some job somewhere. I’m champion because I’ve watched listened and learned, not because I’m a guy who wants violence.”