by Nicole Fox
It feels so good. I want more. Oh. God, I’m crazed with wanting his teeth on me, his hands all over me. “Harder,” I whisper, my request shocking me, and he bites my nipple, hard.
Between my legs, I drip because I’m so wet and when he glides his fingers through my soaked folds, his thumb sweeping over my clit, I whimper and nearly come.
“Spread them for me,” he directs into my ear. “Press your feet together. Let me see what a beautiful pussy you have.”
I blush at his crudity. If he were someone else, I might slap him. But coming from Nikita’s mouth, those filthy words just spark another wave of heat racing below my skin. And, before I can think twice of it, I’m doing exactly what he ordered me to do.
“Good girl,” he whispers. Again, the heat. I’m on fire. Burning up with need for him.
One strong finger works my needy pussy while his thumb strokes my swollen clit. A second finger enters me and Nikita fucks me with his hand until I’m writhing against his palm, chasing my release. He increases his speed and pressure until I’m moaning so loud I’m practically screaming.
“Do you want me inside you?” he whispers the heated words against my neck, and I crack open my eyes to find him watching me. His gaze is dark, full of forbidden promise, and I nod, a whimper falling from my lips. His answering smile is deliciously wicked. “Good. Because I can’t fucking wait any longer. I’ve wanted to bury myself back into your pussy since the moment I pulled out at the penthouse.”
I lean up on my elbows and press my mouth to the center of his chest. His scent surrounds me, the warmth of his skin, his salty taste. I’m licking a path down to his abs and he pulls away from me, hissing as if I’ve burned him.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmurs, tearing open the wrapper of the condom he pulls from his wallet and rolling it on. The sight of him entrances me and my heart rate accelerates, my mouth going dry when he catches me staring. He shakes his head with a slight smile curving his perfect, swollen lips. “I want to last, but you’re going to make me come too soon, Annie. I want you too damn much; I’m aching.”
Again, he stuns me, this time with his words. If I think about it too hard, the entire situation is mind-blowing. I’m naked in the middle of the mountains with a mob boss who purchased me for a quarter of a million dollars. We’re about to have sex, and I want it more than I’ve wanted anything I can ever remember. If someone told me a month ago that I would be kidnapped, in a gunfight, and involved in a high-speed chase, only to want to have sex with the man who dragged me into the underworld, I would’ve laughed in their face.
I’m not laughing now, though. Instead, I’m grabbing for Nikita, bringing him down on top of me, his big body pushing me into the compact dirt. I wrap my legs around his hips, curling my arms around him so I can stroke down his smooth back, damp with sweat despite the chill of the night, as our mouths find each other, lazily kissing, nipping at each other’s lips, tangling our tongues.
He tastes amazing. I love the sounds he makes, the way he holds me. And when he slowly slides inside my body, inch by excruciating inch, a shudder sweeps over me, my eyes shutting against the intensity of emotions swirling within. He doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breathe, and I’m breathless too. I’ve never felt so connected to another person before.
“Christ, you feel so good,” he whispers close to my ear as he slowly begins to move. I shift with him, lifting my hips, tightening my legs around him. He starts thrusting faster, almost as if he can’t help himself. I rock against him, sending his cock deeper inside my body, and he’s groaning, straining above me. I can see it in the tension in his face, across his shoulders.
I’m close too, though we’ve barely begun. I’ve been on edge since he made me come on the terrace. There was no relief with that orgasm. All it did was create the need for more.
“Tell me you’re going to come,” he whispers, his ragged voice sending a shiver over my skin. He reaches between us, his fingers slipping over my clit, rubbing circles around it, driving me straight out of my mind. “Say it.”
“Yes,” I moan. “So close. I’m going to come, Nikita.”
Nikita rears up on his knees and grasps hold of my waist, pulling me closer as he pounds into me. I close my eyes, breathless at the brutal way he’s handling me, truly fucking me. The men of my past always handled me gently, as if I were made of glass and might shatter at any moment. Not Nikita. He’s all predator, primal fierceness, his hands gripping me, his cock pounding inside of me, his mouth brutalizing mine. It’s as if he’s completely overcome.
I love it. I crave it. I’m going to explode.
Closing my eyes, the familiar sensations threaten to wash over me, and I try to hold them off. But my sex clenches around Nikita and whimpering, I shake my head, panting his name, and then I can’t hold back any longer. I’m coming. Lost in the deliciously warm, pulsating sensation as the second orgasm of the night takes me completely over the edge.
I could curl into a little ball now and die happy, but we’re not yet finished. Nikita continues to pound into me, grunting and groaning, his eyes closed and every muscle in his body flexing. He fucks me through my orgasm and soon his thrusts grow erratic, his breathing shallow, and the words coming from his mouth turn into panted gibberish.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Annie, I’m coming.”
He collapses on top of me seconds later, his warm weight comforting, yet making it all feel far too real. His mouth presses to my neck, wet and hot as he whispers unintelligible words. I smooth my fingers down his back, feel the shivers still trembling through him, and I kiss his cheek.
Nikita grabs my sweatshirt and slips it over my head. Once my pants are back on, he pulls me tight into his chest and nuzzles my hair. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say, scooting tighter into him. “Is your arm okay? Do you want me to take a look at it?”
“I’m fine, Annie.” He places a tender kiss on my shoulder.
What I wouldn’t give to be in a warm bed right now. I’ll even take the big comfy bed in Nikita’s penthouse so I can curl up under the blanket, plaster my face into the oversized pillow, and drift off into a blissful sleep. Not that the mountain isn’t beautiful.
I run my fingers over Nikita’s arm, trying not to think of the wild animals lurking in the trees, the violent men on our trail, or any of the other million and one things likely to try and kill us in the night.
Moments later, a faint snore tickles my ear. Nikita’s grip isn’t as tight and I twist to face him and see he’s asleep. He seems peaceful. Calm. His features are much softer in sleep; the lines that usually crease his brow have vanished. I run my hand over his cheek and kiss his nose before burying my face into the nook between his arm and chest.
A part of me feels hidden from the world, from the dangers that lurk around us. It feels like, by hiding against Nikita, I’ll be safe. Truth is, I guess I’m still a kid that way. Like somehow hiding under the covers makes me invisible to my enemies. And, in just two short days, Nikita has become my blanket.
Nikita twists and groans in his sleep. I pull away the slightest bit and look at him. He mumbles and grimaces, tossing around again, mumbles again. I run my hand over his arm, hoping my touch will soothe him.
What is he dreaming about?
I lie awake, watching him until he settles in and his breath slows until it becomes rhythmic. I turn and put my back to him, pulling his arm around me, and exhale, hoping sleep will take over soon.
Instead, my brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expect, every part of me going on pause while my thoughts catch up. How am I lying in Nikita Lavrin’s arms without being scared?
Not one inkling of fear.
The man is a monster. He had me kidnapped. I was at the auction and saw the other girls he abducted and sold as sex slaves. He’s a killer, too. Granted, the men he killed in front of me were trying to kill us, but from what I’ve learned over the past forty-eight hours, Nikita is hardly an innoc
ent. He’s a powerful don, with a city in the palm of his hands.
He’s the same kind of ruthless psycho as the men who drew my father into a downward spiral. He’s the type of person who would order someone to trash my childhood home, to send body parts in the mail.
And yet ... he’s more than that.
He kept me safe. He took care of me, when he could have left me to die. He made love to me.
How could a man who’s supposed to be a monster care about those things? Monsters don’t care. So, Nikita must be different.
But how different? Enough to matter? Enough for me to stay?
The question turns in my mind for a couple of minutes. I could try to run. I remember where the road is and the trail back down the mountain would be easy to follow. Even if the car is submerged in the lake, there was a ranger station we passed a couple of miles down the road. I could make it there, or hitchhike back to the city.
I sigh and close my eyes.
It would never work. The mercenary men might intercept me. They might not be as kind as Nikita. And with the way the Italian mobster drooled over me at the auction, I’m sure he’d rape me before he ended my life. He wouldn’t take care of me—of my needs—the way Nikita has done.
So my choice is no choice, really. For now, I’ll stay. Hopefully, the universe will present me with an opportunity to escape in the future. I just have to be patient and wait.
I try to quiet my mind from all the questions racing through it. Questions I don’t have answers to. And others that just make me more confused Soon, a blackness comes over me. I scoot closer to Nikita, seeking his warmth. My eyes begin to feel heavier and heavier until I can no longer keep them open and they flutter closed as I drift into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Nikita
My dream ends abruptly as I’m shaken back into reality. As I wake, I’m first aware of the coolness of the air and its loamy fragrance. My clothes feel damp in the dew of the dawn. I half wonder if I’m still dreaming as my eyes open, blinking the sleep away. I feel weak and worn thin, and my shoulder and knee are still throbbing, though the pain has lessened somewhat since yesterday.
What time is it? How long have I been asleep? And most pressing of all ... what do we do now?
Annie presses against me, soft breathing emanating from her small lips. It’s so innocent and unguarded. My fingers gently rake through her tangled hair, not wanting to wake her. She’s been through so much. Between the terror of the auction and the attack by Gino’s men, her body and mind must be exhausted.
The first orange-hued rays appear over the treetops. A warm breeze chases away the previous night’s chill. I see a bird perched on a branch across the clearing. It’s pecking away the dew from its feathers and chirping into the morning air. I watch as it hears something in an adjacent tree. Its head swivels immediately in that direction, cocked to the side, fearful and ready to take flight.
Just like Annie at the auction.
It spins left and right, left and right, but no threat emerges. Cautiously, it settles back on its haunches. Then, with a soft chirp and a flap of its wings, it takes to the sky and disappears from view.
I sigh. If only we could fly away so easily.
My gut twists as bile creeps up the back of my throat. What have I done to this poor girl? Her feet are slashed up, her life fucked up ever since my men kidnapped her. Not to mention the target I put on her back the moment I outbid Gino. If he gets his hands on her, the Italian will certainly kill her, if only to spite me.
One thought rings through my head over and over again like a funeral dirge: I should have set Annie free.
Annie stirs in my arms and my gaze drops to her. She nuzzles against my chest and sighs, completely comfortable, which I don’t understand. Why didn’t she leave? She could’ve found her way back to the main road. She could’ve run away as I slept. Hell, she could’ve slept on the other side of the clearing as far away from me as possible, at the very least.
So why is she curled up against me as if I haven’t done anything wrong to her?
And why the hell did I sleep with her? That was wrong of me. The thrill of the escape played a role, but it was still a choice I made. I should have been more levelheaded, more in charge. I should’ve protected her not only from the soldiers, but from myself as well.
I’m a fucking fool.
Annie groans and stirs once more in my arms. Waking, she stretches and then looks up at me, blinking, strands of hair covering her eyes. Suddenly, she bites her lower lip and scurries out of my arms until she’s sitting on her knees a couple of feet away.
I miss the warmth of her body against mine instantly. I want to pull her back down and hold her, and lie here all day. But she looks uncomfortable, uncertain even, and that makes me uneasy.
She tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ears, her eyes focused on her knees. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” The air between us is tense and awkward. “How do your feet feel this morning?”
She looks down and wiggles her toes and grimaces. “They hurt. More than they did yesterday.”
I sit up and move her legs into my lap, taking off the socks, and examining her soles. Fucking Christ. The cuts are deeper than I remember, and it looks like they cracked open even more from all the hiking. She definitely needs stitches. “I think they need to be cleaned out again. Do you want me to do it?”
She nods, her teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip. I reach across and grab the bag, my arm brushing Annie’s soft skin. A low groan escapes my lips and I quickly look away. Annie needs medical attention, not a fucking, though I want to give her both.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” she says, almost as if distracting herself from the impending sting as I hold the bottle just above the cuts on her feet.
“I understand. I’m sure you must’ve thought I was your boyfriend,” I say and she flinches, though I’m not sure if from the peroxide or the mention of a boyfriend.
Something deep inside me rears its ugly head and the thought of my little bird with another man causes my blood to boil.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. Not that it’s any of your business.”
My lip lifts on one side in a lopsided grin and I turn away so she doesn’t see my amusement. I rewrap her feet and put back on the socks. “We should get up.” I rise, stretching out the weariness in my limbs.
“Nikita, look!” Annie exclaims.
I whirl around and see her pointing to the far side of the clearing. From behind a thin screen of bushes, a pair of bucks gaze at us through the brush. Two racks of broad, velvety antlers spread above their heads. They stop and look at us, ears twitching. For a moment, we stare at each other, neither side moving. Then they snort and retreat back into the forest.
I turn back to Annie, who smiles wide. She turns to look at me. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
Though her smile is warm, I feel like I’m in the wrong place, as if such comfort is only meant for others. I could lose myself in her words and the depth of her eyes; I could feel at home.
“Why did you stay?”
Annie jerks her head up so her gaze meets mine. I can tell it’s an unexpected question. To be honest, I didn’t expect to ask it myself. But now that I have, I need to know what she will say. Why didn’t she run when she had the chance?
She chooses her words carefully. “I ... I’m not sure. I thought you were a monster. If you were, I should have run. But I didn’t. So ... maybe you’re not.” It sounds as if she’s reasoning it to herself out loud, like she isn’t so sure of her own motivations.
Moments pass without either of us speaking, and then she sighs but holds her head high. “But understand that I stayed because I wanted to, not because I’m your slave.”
I walk over and grab the bags, slinging them over my shoulder, and then head back over to her and hold my hand out to help her to my feet. When she’s standing, I grip her chin and make her meet my eyes. “Don�
��t think too much.”
Without letting her respond, I kiss her gently. Her lips are soft against mine.
But then I break the kiss off. “Come with me,” I whisper. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Taking her hand, I lead her through across the clearing and through the woods, close to where the deer went. We trudge silently for a few minutes, picking our way through the dry needles and leaves underfoot. I keep her hand clasped in mine for reasons I don’t fully understand myself.
“Where are we heading?”
“You’ll see,” I say.
When we get to the cliff, I sit. Annie hesitates, then settles against me, like she did last night. We look out over the horizon, where the sun rises. Mellow blues and pinks blur together as the sun’s rays chase away a silver mist from the valley below us.
Annie grabs my hand and squeezes it tight as she takes in the view. Then she ducks her chin and turns to look at me over her shoulder.
My dick hardens at the sight of her lips so close to mine. My chest expands and my heart thumps faster. Annie’s lips part and she shifts in my lap, rubbing against my erection. My eyes close and I groan.
“I want to see you.” The rasp in her voice makes me shiver.
Wrapping my arms around her, I claim her mouth with my tongue. She leans down and licks my neck, stopping at the pulse point before capturing the lobe of my ear.
Within seconds, our clothes are pooled around our feet, and she’s standing in front of me in only tiny lace panties, a slight blush creeping from her chest to her cheeks. “Beautiful.”
Her lips cover mine again. I open for her, welcoming her tongue, greeting it with mine. My lips seek and search, punish and soothe, all at once. I lower her and climb on top of her body, licking my way up her legs and belly, stopping to circle each breast before again finding her mouth. I kiss her hard. “Tell me what you want.”
