by Izzy Slam
Claimed by the Beast
Copyright ©2019 Izzy Slam
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction intended for mature readers. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All characters depicted in this story are fictional, not blood related, and are consenting adults over the age of 18 years.
Description
Slade
For the last six years, I’ve lived off the grid, alone, in my quiet, secluded home tucked away in the woods.
I don’t take too kindly to strangers coming around.
So when I spot an intruder on my property, my blood begins to boil with anger.
Is he blind?
Did he not see the No Trespassing signs posted everywhere?
With a growl in my throat and my fists clenched, I decide to chase him away.
Until I find out the intruder just happens to be a “her.” A very sexy, innocent looking “her.”
She claims she got lost hiking. But she has no idea how dangerous these woods really are. And with the way my body is responding to her beauty as she swims topless in the river that runs through my property, I can’t resist taking her home with me to keep her safe, no matter how much she tries to fight me.
Chastity
I’m a failure at everything I do. It’s no surprise I can’t even follow a simple hiking trail.
I deserve to get lost. Become dehydrated. Suffer heat stroke. Starve to death, even.
I’m certain there’s no one for miles, and suffering from heat stroke is exactly what will happen if I can’t find my way back to my car.
But when I happen upon a sparkling river that seems perfect for cooling off, I strip down to practically nothing and hop in.
And that’s when this crazy man appears from nowhere, pissed as hell that I’m on his property.
For a split second, I’m grateful someone’s nearby to help me.
But I don’t even get the chance to ask for help.
This beast of a man is wrapping his angry arms around my waist and carrying me through the woods, my half-naked body rubbing against his as he carries me to his home.
He says it’s to keep me safe.
Then why do I suddenly feel like his prey?
Chapter One
Chastity
This is beyond eff’d up. I haven’t been out here more than two fucking hours and I’m already lost. I must be the dimwit of the universe.
The last time I remember seeing a red trail marker was … shit. When was the last time? It’s been at least half an hour. I turned around and attempted to retrace my steps, but everything looks the same around here. And now I’m not sure if I’m walking in the direction of my car or a giant cliff. And fuck is it hot.
I came out here to get away, to cleanse my mind, to prove to myself that I’m not the failure I’ve always believed myself to be.
“How’s that working out for you?” I mutter, using the bottom of my shirt to wipe a line of sweat away before it drips into my left eye.
I was told by several friends that hiking Whiterock Trail was so easy a toddler could do it blindfolded. Well, a toddler probably could.
I pretty much screw up everything that I touch. It’s sort of my specialty. Whether I’m burning dinner while helping my mom cook or failing out of math for the third time. My own father left not long after I was born, right after holding me in his arms for the first time.
And don’t even get me started on all the times I’ve taken dance class, just to be told I have two left feet. Why couldn’t I at least have two right feet? At least then something on me would be right.
Whatever. Mom says I shouldn’t be so negative all the time, that if I had a better attitude I wouldn’t see myself as a failure.
Which is what led me here.
I was looking for a confidence boost. I mean, it’s hiking. Could it get any simpler?
Hiking = walking = basically impossible to mess up.
I brought my cell phone with me, too, but I’m too far out to get a signal and call someone.
I opened the compass app a few minutes ago, but it doesn’t do me much good when I don’t know what direction anything is in. I should be scared, but I’m not. I’m just … pissed. And hot and a little tired.
I take a few more steps, staring at the compass as I struggle to make sense of it, when I hear the sound of running water. Okay, I know I would remember if I passed a stream. So I’m definitely going the wrong way. But as I turn around in the direction of the water, I figure a quick dip might help me cool off.
I can see the clearing ahead, and by the time I make it past the woods and onto the sandy shoreline, I’m twisting my hair into a ponytail and dropping my bag to the ground before kicking off my shoes. It’s a small river, calm, probably about twenty feet wide or so. On the other side is a thicket of trees, but I still don’t see any trail markers or other signs of civilization.
I walk several feet out, and the water feels so good on my feet, all I can think about is submerging my entire body. So I back up a few feet and wipe the sweat off my brow, then tug off my t-shirt and shorts, not wanting them to get soaked. I pull off my sports bra and toss it on the ground. Feeling a little grossed out at the prospect of a full skinny dip, I opt to leave on my underwear.
I twist my hair into a bun before going back in the water. The surface slowly tickles up my legs, forcing goose bumps to prick along my flesh. Several rocks at my feet feel slippery, almost making me lose my footing, but I pass those quickly. By the time I’m halfway across the river, the water is at my lower belly.
I sink down to my shoulders, closing my eyes and tickling the sandy base with my fingers. Several slimy plants kiss my hand as the undercurrent whips by. I relax and take several deep breaths, letting my mind forget, for just a moment, that I’m in the middle of nowhere and may not be able to find my way back. It also occurs to me that my mother won’t even notice I’m missing until tomorrow since she’s out of town visiting a friend.
I entertain the thought for a brief second, when the sound of crackling twigs startles me.
“Can I fucking help you?”
My eyes bolt open and I snap my head towards the sound of the man’s voice.
“Excuse me?” I ask, keeping below the surface of the water.
He steps to the edge of the river, a long rifle resting on his shoulder as he winks one eye, blocking the sun.
“I said, can I fucking help you?”
Cold shivers pass through me. He sounds really pissed off. And I have no idea what I’ve done to piss him off.
“I hope so. I’m … kind of lost.”
“You got that right. You also got about ten seconds to get off my property before I take the law into my own hands.”
He cocks his shotgun and the sound echoes across the water, making me freeze. I can’t just … walk out of here, naked.
When he steps past the sandy banks, dunking his boots in the water, I fan my arms, backing up, thinking I may have to swim to the other side and run for it.
“Did you hear what I said?” His voice is growing impatient.
“Yes. I did, but … seriously. I’m lost. I’m sorry. I don’t know where to go to get off your property.”
With an exasperated shake of th
e head, he sets the rifle on the ground and walks out towards me. My pulse quickens, the dread making my blood run ice cold.
When he gets close enough for me to see his face, I can tell he’s not a happy person. Creases haunt his eyes, and underneath a thick beard he looks to be wearing a scowl. Dark eyes promise something ominous.
I push back further, my feet scooting along the sandy bottom.
“Did you not see the NO TRESSPASSING signs?”
“No. Honestly. I just came out here to hike and somehow got off trail.” I eye my clothes on the bank. “If you’ll just let me get dressed and point me in the right direction, I’d love nothing more than to get back to my car.”
His eyes narrow at me. He must be a paranoiac. I seriously need to get out of here. Fuck waiting for him to point me in the right direction. I’ll point myself.
“Stand up,” he rumbles.
“Excuse me?”
He moves closer to me and flicks his eyes downward. The water licks at his dark slacks.
“I said, stand up.”
Dread weighs heavily on me, and the last thing I want to do is show this larger-than-life psycho my bare chest. But I wouldn’t stand much of a chance against his large frame, even if I knew basic self-defense. Which I don’t.
So, I do what any normal, sane girl would do under the circumstances.
I stand up and hope he isn’t a serial killer on top of being a total prick.
Slade
I don’t have time to mess with this.
Let me clarify. I have plenty of time. It’s patience I’m lacking.
Patience for human fucking beings.
The last time someone came onto my property, they brought their fishing poles and live bait thinking they would help themselves to whatever they wanted. It took all of two seconds for me to scare them away and I doubt it will be any different this time. Seems like whenever this happens, I’m at my most agitated, too.
Not only that, just on the other side of these woods lies the property of the Cuthbert family who has, for a while now, been under suspicion for the disappearance of several women in the area. I don’t like it when those fuckers come near me or my home.
I had seen the intruder, spotted him through the trees while cleaning the tarp for my bike. A quick movement out of the corner of my eye alerted me to the visitor, but I hoped it was a deer. When I got a better look, I saw the culprit.
He was standing on the shore of the river, setting a bag on the sand. I’d gone inside to get my Ruger that never let me down. I then high tailed it across my back yard and to the bank where he was. But by the time I arrived, he had completely submerged himself in the river. And his movements, soft and subtle, clued me in that it wasn’t a male I was dealing with.
The sound of her voice confirmed that.
She claims she got lost hiking along Whiterock Trail, but I think she’s just being nosy. Probably heard the stream and wanted to strip down to her bikini to cool off, brushing right past the multiple signs that announce this is private property and to “stay the fuck away” as diplomatically as a sign can. Typical college-aged, entitled little brat. Pretty stupid for her to be alone, too, given the crazed family living not far from here.
That’s okay. I’ll escort her little ass back to the trail and point her in the right direction with a warning that the next time she shows up, I won’t be so nice.
“Stand up,” I tell her, quickly losing my patience.
“Excuse me?” Her eyes lift, showing fear.
I move closer to her and let my eyes drift below the surface of the water, noticing the pale skin of her shoulders through the ripples.
“I said, stand up.”
She hesitates, sucking her lips into her mouth as she slowly rises from the water.
I blink several times as my gaze runs down her body, realizing she isn’t wearing a bikini after all. Small, pert breasts slope down and out, topped with very small but very hard pink nipples.
Fuck.
My cock gets a surge of blood and it grows stiff in an instant. The edge of the water dances along her hips where a black lacy strap hugs her flesh.
“I—I left my clothes over there,” she stutters, pointing behind me.
“I see that,” I growl, teetering somewhere between wanting to flip her over and fuck her right here and tossing her over the tree line so I don’t succumb to my animalistic urges.
“If I can just go get dressed, I’ll get out of your hair.” She starts to walk past me. I can smell her hesitation, her fear, the way she cowers slightly as she brushes past.
But when I catch a glimpse of her profile, her dark, shiny hair pulled back into a feminine bun and those sexy, pouty red lips, and the way her tits bounce ever so slightly, my cock responds, and I decide right then and there I’m not letting this beauty get away, especially with the dangers that lurk in these woods.
I have no idea how long I will be able to make her stay, but right now, she’s a toy I must have and I must keep safe.
I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her up, tossing her over my shoulder. She lets out a gasp and digs her nails into my back.
“What the fuck?” she shrieks.
Her cry doesn’t deter me.
“Calm down. You’re coming with me.”
I walk to the edge of the water, listening to her grunt, whimper, claw at me, and push up on my shoulders in her struggle for release.
She gives up, falls back down, her hard nipples grazing my shoulder and making my cock stiffen.
“Put me down,” she grumbles. “I know how to walk.”
Once I reach the sandbar, I consider grabbing her things and taking them back with my rifle, but I’m afraid it will diminish the control I have over her. I’ll have to come back for them.
It’s a short walk to my house, maybe 50 yards or so, and the whole way, the girl wriggles, rubbing her smooth skin against mine.
I place my hand on her bottom, my fingers touching the lace of her panties. I want to rip them off, but I also want to show some restraint.
For now.
Until I make her crumble and beg for me.
There’s a part of me that wants to teach her a lesson for trespassing on my property. But she also needs to be within the safety and sanctity of my home.
“Please, please just put me down.”
“I will, once we get to my house.”
“What?” She arches her back and struggles again, her feet kicking up and coming dangerously close to my face. I push them back down just as fast.
“You don’t think I’m going to leave you alone out here, do you? It’s not safe. All kinds of predators in these parts…”
After letting out a huff, her body twists as she struggles harder to get loose.
“I said I was sorry, mister. Please…” she begs, her voice now sounding frantic.
I can’t help but chuckle. Damn, this little part of me is happy she’s fighting. I never knew this side of me existed.
“You got a phone?”
“Yes. It’s in my bag.” There’s a lift in her voice. “And if you’ll just let me go get it, I’ll be on my way.”
I stop dead in my tracks as we approach my back yard, letting my hand sink into the soft flesh of her ass. “And I can’t let you do that. I need to clear the area of danger.”
That quiets her, all the way to my front door. The moment we step inside, she grunts and wiggles again, but I just make a beeline for the basement. It’s the only place I can effectively lock her up.
I drop her on the bed and brush my hands. Her nipples have now softened into small pink dots, but my cock is still hard. She scoots all the way back to the headboard and tucks her feet underneath her bottom.
“Wait here, I’ll be back.”
“You’re just going to leave me here?” she says, her voice high and shrill.
I spin around. “Yes. Believe me. You’re a hell of a lot safer here than you are out there.”
Her eyes follow me as I walk away, up t
he stairs and to the kitchen to get a chair I can wedge underneath the door handle. I don’t want her to get away before I can decide how to handle this. I make a mental checklist of everything that’s down there, wanting to be sure I haven’t left her alone with a potential weapon she could surprise me with.
Let’s see, there’s the bed and the bedside table with a radio alarm clock. There’s the closet where I keep my winter coats and boots and a few other odds and ends like sheets and pillows. I’ve also got the antique Victrola turntable my mother had before she died along with her collection of Ella Fitzgerald and Nina Simone albums. I suppose if this girl got creative, she could snap one in two and try to cut me with it. Other than that, I don’t think she stands a good chance of getting the upper hand.
After placing the chair under the doorknob, I make my way back to the river to retrieve my rifle and her things, making a quick pass to ensure no one else is around. I then bring her things straight back to the house for a closer inspection. Looks like my little prisoner came to her hike semi prepared. She’s brought along a bandana, sunscreen, two water bottles, one of them partly filled, and a single protein bar. I don’t see a wallet, but her phone is here, just like she said. I press the home button, which displays the time, date, and her name: Chastity.
I wonder if the name fits.
Without wasting a second, I pry out the battery and set it with the phone inside a basket on my bar. I pick up her clothes and give them a sniff. Some perfumed shit hits my nose, so I toss them in the washer. I’ve never been big on women covering up their natural scent. I like to enjoy the scent of whatever naturally pulses out of their flesh. You can tell a lot about a woman by how she smells.
The last woman I chilled with didn’t even wear deodorant. Now that was overkill in my opinion. She was one of those tree-hugging vegan hippie types, but the chick could suck a bowling ball through a paper straw and keep going, so I kept her around for a while.
That was … damn. How long ago was Rhonda? I ended things with her right before moving here after my mom died. That was six years and two months ago. I was just twenty-six years old. Fuck, how time flashes right before our very eyes.
