by Alta Hensley
“I’m going to go gather some firewood. I’ll be back shortly.”
Would she try to leave?
Doubtful.
But even if she ran, I would catch her.
I think we both knew that fact.
Aria
Although I didn’t like the idea of being left alone in this place for any length of time, I recognized the necessity of us finding a means of heating the cabin. We were so far up the mountain that it was freezing, and we didn’t have the proper clothing and boots to fight against the elements. We would need a fire to keep us warm and especially at night. How long would we stay here? How long would it take for this stranger to get what he wanted from my father to return me? How long would I have to wear nothing but a robe to keep me warm?
Shivering, I tightened the man’s coat around me. I could smell him in the fabric and for some unknown reason, I inhaled deeply. I should have cast off the coat, but I was too cold.
Yes, that was the reason. The only reason. Temperature.
Liar.
I refused to consider any alternate methods of generating heat such as the one he was very likely to suggest… or maybe even take.
Luckily, he had left me with a small candle, the flame of which I guarded obsessively as I moved about the cabin trying to clean it up a bit. There was a small table that had been knocked onto its side, and I righted it and put it under the one window. There were no chairs at all, so it looked as if we were going to have to sit on the bed together to eat whatever it was he planned on feeding us while we remained here.
Would we play a fucked up version of house together in this cabin?
When I had done about all I could to make the place somewhat livable, I sat gingerly down on the very edge of the bed, hugging myself. I was sitting here in bare feet and a robe. Nothing much for warmth right now, or protection when it came to the colder weather. Alone.
I looked around. Uncertain what to do next.
Where was he? How long would he be gone?
I looked down at the dirty mattress. He was going to expect me to fall into bed with him—again. Although there hadn’t been much falling done before—but I wasn’t going to. I had already made that resolution. I couldn’t believe how far I went with this man. The things I allowed him to do me… Just thinking about our kinky experience had my face heating up and a prickle of sensation form between my legs. It was so unlike me, and yet at the time, felt so natural. I always watched from afar. I never participated. But with this stranger…
He was just going to have to keep those strong, supple, knowing hands to himself. I hoped I was strong enough to resist him—my track record already wasn’t very good. I did have morals. I wanted sex to be about love, regardless if I had completely lost my mind… or whatever the hell was going on. I wanted to love, not just fuck. Even if just thinking about what happened, and the thought of it happening again, had my pussy throbbing and moistening at the image.
Damn him.
As if he knew I’d been thinking about him, the door opened and he came in, carrying a big load of firewood in one hand and a plastic grocery bag he must have gotten from the truck in the other. “Here,” he said, placing the bag onto the table, then dropping the firewood by the hearth. “There’s some salami and cheese in there you can cut for us.” He disappeared outside again before I had a chance to tell him, “I’m not your slave. Captive yes, but not a slave!” So, when he returned, the bag was still on the table untouched.
“Did you not hear me?” he asked authoritatively when he returned.
“I heard you fine. I just don’t like the way you demanded me to do it, and I’m not going to do whatever you tell me. Captive or not. Plus, I’m not hungry.”
He looked at me with a clench of his jaw that instantly made my stomach fall, but instead of saying or doing anything, he went to build the fire instead.
He didn’t say anything more, but quickly and efficiently cut up the cheese and salami and had it displayed on a paper plate in minutes. And as averse as I was at the idea of eating, I had to admit that the meat and cheese looked delicious.
“So, tell me something, Aria,” he casually said as he popped a piece of cheese into his mouth as he wrapped up the left over, uncut food. “You’re too old to still be living with your father. You’re an adult. So why are you?”
“You clearly know my father and what that means.” I raised my eyebrows as I studied his face. “Do you really find that shocking?”
“You’ve never wanted to leave? To live your own life?” His eyes pinned me where I sat. “Have you never met anyone to love? To start a life with? No man ready to marry you?”
If he truly lived the mob lifestyle, then why was he asking this question? He should know. Only true way to leave my father’s watch was by marrying someone of his choice.
“Why do you ask?”
He shrugged. “Just small talk, princess. Getting to know you.”
“I don’t want you to get to know me.”
“Too bad.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Do I need to remind you that I make the rules here?”
I crossed my arms and looked away. It took all my might to not tell the man to go fuck himself. But I was wiser than that. I knew exactly where that would land me.
Although the words burned my tongue.
It was an acceptable assumption that, at my age, daughter of the mob boss, I would be engaged for business reasons alone, however. And maybe that is what he was getting at with his question. “I’m not engaged to be married. There’s no one in my life, and no, there is no one my father has felt is suitable for his princess.” I sneered as I said the last word, hating that every single time he had called me princess, he had been spot on. I was nothing but a spoiled, kept, and sheltered mafia princess who had never even been in a cabin of this condition before.
He nodded as if my answer was satisfactory to him. He was only fucking over my father by kidnapping me. Not involving anyone else.
Chapter Seven
Matthew
“Well, I guess that’s good, considering what we did last night. I would have hated to steal from another man.” I regretted it as soon as I spoke, but I couldn’t take the words back.
Her face immediately became shuttered, those bright eyes dimmed, and as she hugged herself for warmth, she avoided looking at me, and that was the last thing I wanted. She was the strangest, most intriguing woman I had met in a long time if ever, and I wanted to know more about her, not less. And as I watched her more closely than I had before, I noticed that she was shaking.
Without another word, I stalked over to the bed where she was sitting, grabbed a hold of the edge of it and pulled it over in front of the fire, then reached into a bag that had yet to be opened and pulled out a blanket, forcibly wrapping her up in it and hauling her to lay down on the bed, molding her to me spoon fashion with her closest to the fire.
She shot back up as if she was on a spring, and I put her back in her place each time, but on the third instance, my patience—for which I had never really been known for—had reached its end.
“Aria stop. It’s cold, and you’re shaking. Stop being so stubborn,” I warned. I hoped my stern voice was enough to stop her actions. I wasn’t about to let her suffer the cold and be miserable all because she was too stubborn to admit she needed my warmth.
“I’m fine.”
“Aria…” I wasn’t going to play this battle of wills.
“I’m not cold.” Her body still shook, but not as badly since the fire clearly was working its magic.
“I don’t appreciate being lied to.” I tightened my grip on her when she tried to stand, preventing her from doing so.
“And I don’t appreciate you being a bossy asshole. I’m a grown woman and can do what I want damn it. Cold or not.”
It was laughably easy to push her onto her stomach, then reach down and lift both the hem of her robe and the blanket up over her head.
“Stop! What are you doing?” she screeched.
“I don’t know what manners your parents clearly didn’t teach you, but you do not have the mouth of a lady. I won’t tolerate it.”
I took hold of her robe, shedding her of it in seconds, and throwing it across the room just before one hand descended on the back of her neck, holding her in place for the other hand that immediately found cheeks that were icy cold to the touch.
“Who do you think you are? Who are you to say how I speak?” She struggled with all her might with little effort needed to control her on my part.
“That, my princess, you are about to find out.”
Besides intriguing and interesting, she was also one of the most headstrong, most stubborn females I had ever encountered. And if I was truthful with myself, which I was only sometimes of late, I would admit that I would love to maybe enjoy this time I had with her taming her to my hand. So that when I put her somewhere, she stayed there, or when I told her to do something, she did it immediately and without question.
“You let go of me this instant!”
“As long as you are under my roof. And for now, this cabin serves as that. You belong to me. No woman of mine will talk to me with such disrespect.” I punctuated my words with a loud swat to her bare behind, and then another for good measure.
“I’m not some whore who can be owned. I’m not yours,” she bit back.
“Exactly!” I peppered her ass at rapid speed. Spanking every inch of skin I could, only to repeat the same action again. “You are not a whore. You are a classy woman and should act as such. And since you clearly have forgotten how a grown, sophisticated, and elegant woman acts, I’ll take it upon myself to remind you.”
Damn, I would enjoy that enormously. My cock was hard, my heart beat rapidly, but my determination to teach Aria a lesson kept me focused on the task at hand.
As I spanked her, delivering crisp, and deliberately very painful swats to every inch of the flesh that was available to me above her knees and beneath the small of her back, my cock became even further engorged, pressing uncomfortably against my pants.
Not that she simply lay there and let me swat her. She was like a whirling storm, doing her best to try to move the parts of her that I didn’t have my hand on, most particularly her legs, until I very carefully placed one of mine over hers, effectively and efficiently trapping them against the bed so that she had no choice but to be still for her punishment.
“You son of a bitch!” she yelled on the top of her lungs, but the fight began to ease up a bit.
“I don’t know what kind of upbringing you come from, princess, but whoever taught you how to be a lady, they did you a great disservice by not teaching you to obey a man who wears a gun and has a hand on your ass. Frankly, they did a disservice not teaching you to show respect to a man, period.”
“I have never had a man treat me the way you do, you chauvinistic shithead,” she wailed as I continued with the spanking. I made sure to pay close attention to her sit spots this time, enjoying the way her flesh rippled beneath my hand.
“Well, that is a shame. It’s a shame you haven’t had a man who cared enough and loved you enough to take you in hand when you need it.”
There was no way I could miss how she froze at my words. I could feel just how tense she was keeping her body, despite how thoroughly I tormented her upturned, and perfectly firm ass.
And somehow I took her posture as a bit of direct defiance and spanked her well beyond what I might have, not stopping until finally, when I was just about to stand up and free my belt, I felt her finally give in and submit, burying her face in the bed to try to cover her tears. As if it embarrassed her to be crying in front of me.
I was appalled when I looked down at her and saw just how badly I had ravaged her ass, but then I hardened my heart against being too soft on or with her. She’d needed that. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to do it again for a while, not that I would shirk away from it if that wasn’t the case. If I determined that she needed me to paddle her ass within the hour, then I would without hesitation. We were in a life or death situation, and I couldn’t constantly worry about whether or not she was going to decide to do what I told her to do. And as I turned her back against me, forcing her to snuggle her poor raw, bare bottom against the front of my pants and tormenting myself in an entirely different way from her, but just as badly, that was exactly what I said.
“When I want you to do something, whether I’m asking, showing, or telling, I expect you to do it. Your life might well depend on it.” I was glad that she couldn’t see just how tightly my jaw was clenched at the idea of me being the cause of her death, or for that matter, her being harmed at all. If something happened to her as the result of me forcing her to get involved in my completely twisted up life, I would never forgive myself. My revenge was with her father. She was right when she said she wasn’t him. I needed to remind myself of that fact. My hate was not hers to endure.
I held her there, against me, one big hand low on her tummy, my other arm beneath her head as a makeshift pillow. I could feel—even through my pants—just how thorough a job I had done on her. She was generating so much heat from her poor punished ass. Well, at least part of her was warm, I thought to myself. But as I let my hand begin to wander south, there were other, more pleasurable ways to warm her up, and I wanted to explore every single one of them with her.
But I stopped my descent as my stomach growled loudly, and I realized that I needed to acquiesce to its demands, if not for her then for me. I was hungry, and I could imagine that she was too. I had to give her credit—she had traveled for hours and I hadn’t heard a peep of complaint out of her, as a true mafia princess would have. She was, however, already much too thin for my tastes, and far too stubborn to actually ask for food, so it was on me to make sure it happened.
I was happier than I should have been when she said that she wasn’t engaged to be married. I didn’t find it shocking that the bastard Costa hadn’t sold his daughter off to increase his power and prestige, but still happy to hear it. I had no right to be thinking of anything like that in regards to her.
The truth was that I should never have taken her with me. Kidnapping Costa’s daughter as payback was fucking stupid. I was starting to realize that now with every minute I had Aria in my possession. I would never hurt her, and most definitely not kill her. Surely, Costa would know that and call my bluff. Had I killed men before? No. And Vittorio Costa could figure that out real quick. I also didn’t take casualties of war, and that was exactly what Aria was.
Fuck me.
Kidnapping Aria just added another problem to my huge list of already existing problems.
Still, she was gorgeous and warm and had the most magnificent hair… and nearly fucking her last night—the way she’d felt naked in my arms forced me to ignore this glaring problem of mine. I knew I would be replaying that memory in my mind long after she was gone, and I intended to add more memories tonight, tomorrow, the next day… for as long as I had her. For now, though, I denied myself by feeding her bits of salami and cheese while still holding her close to keep her warm.
Or rather, trying to.
She refused to eat, and was lying stiffly against me again, as if she would bolt away given the first chance.
Sighing heavily, I said, “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Apparently, our little session didn’t teach you a thing.”
The tears that I thought she had gotten through rose to the surface. I could hear the quivering in her voice. “I don’t know why you are doing all of this. What is your end goal? You don’t seem like the type of man who needs money. So, ransom doesn’t seem like it’s the end result. If you wanted me dead, wouldn’t you have already? So what? What exactly is it you want?”
I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to tell her. It was only a matter of time until she was free. Either by my hand when her father did exactly as I demanded, or due to my death if I fucked this up. But either way, the less she knew, the better. But at the same time, she wasn’t a fool and
was smart enough to know it wasn’t by chance she was taken. She was a pawn and she knew that.
“Your father fucked me over, and now there’s a price to pay,” I pretty much snarled, feeling her trembling in my arms from something other than cold. “And I don’t think you are such a naive woman that you don’t know what your father is capable of. An intelligent woman would know that Daddy Dearest has a lot of enemies which makes you vulnerable. I’m just the man who had enough balls to actually strike, take, and hold on to what he feels is his.”
“So, you plan on keeping me? For how long? Or do you plan on never returning me?”
“That depends on him. And you.”
I heard her sigh as her body tensed. “You don’t know my father.”
“I do. Trust me, I do.” I stared at my gun. It was never very far away from me nowadays; sitting on the floor next to the bed when I reached for it and brought it up to set it on the bed in front of her, facing the fire and away from either of us. A reminder. “You don’t know me. Your father doesn’t know me and what I am capable of.”
When she spoke again, it was clipped and emotionless. “And I’m just to be your captive and behave?”
“Yes, and eat the damned food when I offer it to you.” I pushed another piece past her lips to shut her up and change the subject. Speaking of her father only angered me, and I was doing everything within my being to remain calm, levelheaded, and to silent the rage that bubbled from within. A man of fury did not make wise decisions.
I debated leaving the gun there, just to make a quiet point, but I knew I didn’t trust her enough to do that. So, I put it back under my side of the bed and brought another piece of meat to her mouth, which this time, she opened without me having to force her to.
She ate several pieces I offered her after that, then refused the next, saying, “I’m full, thank you.”
“Two more bites,” I decreed. I didn’t want to stop feeding her. The truth of the matter was that I enjoyed the intimacy of the entire situation.
