Entwined: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 3)

by Felicity Brandon

  Slowly, she edged closer to Connor’s body. He saw her blow out a huge breath as she neared, gazing up into his face as she finally pressed herself against him.

  It was a moment of epiphany.

  Molly had chosen to come to him, looking for comfort from the one man who’d taken and tormented her. It was like some sort of miracle, and Connor knew he was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet as he felt her body heat next to him. His arms were on her at once, enveloping her in his warmth in a matter of seconds. His right hand rose to her hair, cradling her head as she sunk down against his chest.

  Molly dissolved into sobs, her body trembling with the weight of whatever emotion she released. For his part, Connor said nothing. He merely stood there, holding her body on the wind-swept beach. In a time not so long ago, he had called himself a devil. A monster who preyed on innocent little lambs like Molly, but just look at him now. Connor was the greatest example of disparity he knew. He proved that karma didn’t exist. He’d been a sick fuck his whole life, taking what he wanted under the protection of his powerful peers, and caring nothing for the consequences. He should be damned, and he thought he had been, but he’d been wrong. The greatest penance he could ever have received was to never have seen Molly again. To have never caught sight of her mischievous smile, or run the soft strands of her hair through his fingers. And yet, here she was, her small arms clinging to him as she cried her heart out. There was no way he deserved to be this blessed. No way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Like a moth to a flame.

  She was drawn toward his body instinctively; like an irresistible force, it was impossible to deny. As soon as his arms closed around her coat, the tears came harder, pouring from her like a flood. But where there should have been hurt, Molly found release, and catharsis. It was the damndest thing. The monster made her feel whole again.

  “Let it out, kitten,” he purred in that soothing tone which made her mind relax at the same time her core tightened.

  Let it out, she mused. Well, she was certainly doing that, and the tears continued to flow for long moments afterwards. Connor cradled her head like a baby, stroking her hair in that way she’d remembered being so irritating, but now she only found comfort in the gesture.

  “Do you want to get out of here?”

  His question caught her off guard, and she raised her tear-soaked face into the wind. On the one hand the idea sounded great. Meeting here had seemed perfect when she’d concocted the idea like a scene from one of her books, but in reality, it was cold and desolate, the wind bringing down the spring temperatures exponentially.

  “Where could we go?” she asked in a throaty tone. “Call me crazy, but I’m not especially keen to get in the car with you.”

  Connor chortled at that, his handsome face softening as he gazed down at her. And oh God, he was handsome. It was like she’d forgotten those high cheek bones, and the dazzling eyes, but right now he used both of them as weapons against her will.

  “Yeah, I get that,” he chuckled. “How about you drive? I saw a seafront place a few miles down the coast. We can get a drink there, and if you’re lucky, I might even let you drink from a cup.”

  He threw her a wink as he concluded, and Molly felt the heat rising to her face at his joke. Worse still, she knew her pussy clenched at his words, a legacy of all the times he’d made her drink from the designated pet bowls on the floor.

  “Wow, thank you, Master,” she replied, sardonically.

  Her tone was dry and the sarcasm obvious. She would never have gotten away with speaking to him like that in the house, and he smirked at her in recognition of the fact. Things were different now. It was good that he realized it.

  “Pushing your luck already, kitten?” he taunted, edging back to create space between their bodies.

  She flushed. “I guess I can’t help myself,” she began as means of justification. “Either that, or I’ve just been without you for too long?”

  “Hmmm, it seems so,” he replied, flashing her that devastating smile which had haunted her dreams for at least the last seven months.

  Connor leant forward, pressing his lips against her forehead in an almost paternal way. “Let’s go,” he told her. “I want to get you out of the cold.”

  He turned her body gently, guiding her back across the sand with his right arm which remained around her shoulders. She was silent, save for the occasional snuffle as she regained composure. When they reached the ramp, her hand sunk into her coat pocket, searching for her rental car keys. One click of the fob opened all the doors, and she twisted to glance up at his expectant face.

  “Are you going to invite me to ride with you?” His tone had that sardonic edge about it, and she fought to suppress her laughter at the question.

  “Would you like to join me, Connor?”

  Molly used his name intentionally, loving the way his expression flinched just a little when she used it.

  “Why, thank you, Molly,” he answered. “I will.”

  He strode to the passenger seat, banging the sand from his black boots as he went. Molly gazed down at her expensive gray ones. They’d cost her a sweet fortune, but were freaking uncomfortable. One good thing about the fact they reached her knees though was that no sand had entered inside them at all.

  Biting her lip, she made her way around to the driver’s seat. Of course, Brits drove on the wrong side of the road, so she was still getting used to the right-hand drive. By the time she’d slipped inside, Connor was already in place. His green eyes drilled into her as she removed the beret, slid the key into the ignition and fastened her safety belt. There was a palpable silence as the engine sprung to life. After the cold noise of the wind, the quiet of the car seemed deafening.

  “I have some questions,” Connor murmured, breaking the heavy silence. “I guess you do, too?”

  Questions? Yeah, she had a few, so many in fact that she wondered how she’d ever be able to articulate them all. How had he escaped was the first one that sprung to her mind, and where had he been hiding ever since? Connor had told her he’d share the answers in person, but somehow seeing him in the flesh again made the words hard to string into coherent sentences.

  Pulling out of the parking lot, she turned left onto the main road.

  “Yeah, I do,” she concurred. “But you go first.”

  That made him laugh, the sound furling the excited energy in her belly. She remembered that laugh, and most of the debauch things he had made her do when she’d heard it in the past.

  “I thought it was ladies first?”

  Molly’s eyes flitted left to where he sat grinning. “Are you flirting with me, Master?” she probed in that same, teasing tone she’d gotten away with on the beach.

  “Yes, I am,” he replied. “I’ve missed you. And anyway, we never got to do this before, did we? It’s fun to flirt with you, to get to know more of the real Molly, instead of just the gorgeous beast I remember.”

  Molly gulped at his words, but they made her smile regardless. Connor was right. This was fun, and despite the tangible nerves which whipped around her body, there was no denying the sexual tension which overrode it. The whole car oozed it, and yes, there was that visceral spark she’d missed so much.

  “I like it, too,” she admitted. “It’s just strange after…” The words died in her throat as a multitude of twisted, salacious memories flickered behind her eyes.

  “After everything I’ve put you through.”

  Right. “After everything we’ve been through,” she corrected him.

  “How diplomatic of you, pet,” he chuckled, reaching out to stroke her left thigh.

  Molly shuddered lightly at the contact. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her. Hell, he’d hugged her so tight on the beach she thought he might never let her go, but this was different. The beach had been about consolation. Connor had sought to bring her comfort, and she had welcomed it, but this gesture... Molly glanced down at the long digits now stroking her denier-covered
leg. Her coat had parted as she sat, revealing her black stockings to him for the first time.

  Stockings. She blinked at the road as she recalled her choice of outfit. Why had she worn stockings to a meeting with her former captor? Why did you meet him at all? goaded a smaller voice in her mind, and she shook her head at its provocative tone.

  “What is it?” Connor asked.

  Her head spun in his direction, before her attention turned back to the road. “Nothing,” she murmured. “I was just thinking.”

  “You think too much, kitten,” he informed her. “That’s why you always did so well with my instructions. You didn’t need to think.”

  Molly inhaled at his sentiment. “I have to think to write,” she told him. “And you always liked me to do that.”

  “True,” he agreed in a low tone which made the muscles between her legs tense. “But I even gave you direction in that, didn’t I?”

  She nodded. He had done that, having made her write an account of everything that had transpired between them since he’d taken her from the street in London. “Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, I suppose so.”

  There was silence after that, both of them presumably lost in their own private memories. Molly kept her focus on the road, trying not to let the invading thoughts fluster her.

  Easier said than done.

  “How is the writing going?” Connor probed.

  “It’s not great,” she admitted. “That’s one of the reasons I came back here. I needed to find my muse again.” I needed to find you, she added in her mind, although she didn’t vocalize that last part.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he answered, and he sounded genuine enough. “You still have the story you started. Our story. Perhaps you need to finish that?”

  And there it was. The thing which had been on her mind since her ass had landed back in the States. She did need to finish that story, but how could she? Without Connor, there was no ending. Without him there was only a void, and the stark reality of function and routine.

  For a moment, Molly didn’t know what to say, but she knew the emotion was rising in her, like a tsunami just about to hit land. Even after her embarrassing breakdown on the beach, it seemed there was yet more to unload.

  “Molly?”

  His voice sounded genuinely concerned, but it was the sound of her name that caught her attention. Turning to face him, she already knew there were tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I need to pull over.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  He watched her pull the car into an isolated parking spot. They were right on the edge of one of the cliffs now, and the view here was phenomenal, but honestly, Connor could barely drag his eyes from Molly. As soon as she’d engaged the handbrake, he slipped off the seat beat, twisting to get a better look at her face.

  “What’s wrong, kitten?” he cooed. “Did I say something to upset you?”

  Molly blinked at him, her expression half depressed and half bemused. “No,” she sobbed. “It’s not you. You’ve been nothing short of perfect today.”

  The compliment struck him, resonating deeper than he would have guessed. “For an ex-abductor, you mean?” he quipped, trying to make her laugh, and he watched with glee as a small smile made her lips curl.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she chuckled darkly.

  “So, what is it?” he probed. “You can tell me. I hope you know you can tell me anything.”

  Their gazes locked briefly at that, and he wondered if her mind had gone to the same place his had done, Lydia.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she began, but Connor could tell from her tone that was a lie. Molly knew exactly what she wanted to say. She had a way with words like he’d never known before.

  “Start from the beginning?” he suggested, shifting his weight further toward her seat. The hand at her thigh squeezed gently, and she inhaled at the gesture. “What do you want to ask me?”

  “It’s not that.” Her voice was hoarse, thick with whatever emotion she was struggling with. “I mean, sure I have questions, but that’s not what this is about.”

  “What then?”

  Molly closed her eyes briefly, and he could see her physically steel herself. “It’s you.”

  That was it. They were only two little words, but they danced past his ears like the brightest melody Connor had ever heard.

  “What about me?” he delved.

  “It’s like you said. I can’t write anymore. I can’t do it without you anymore. God knows I’ve tried.”

  Connor’s heart raced. Molly’s words were literally music to his ears.

  “Do you think it’s because our story still needs finishing?” he asked, watching her responses carefully.

  She nodded, sending fresh tears spilling down her pretty face. “Something like that,” she mumbled. “I don’t know. I just know I haven’t been able to write a single damn word since you. Well, nothing that works. Nothing that makes sense. I just don’t feel it anymore. I’m totally impotent.”

  “Poor little kitten,” he purred, and for the first time, he actually meant it.

  Connor could see the vacuum in her eyes, he could hear the pain in her voice, and he knew without a doubt that she meant every word. For all his scheming, this was something he hadn’t foreseen. Could it be his little pet had come to need his structure and discipline in order to create? Could life really be that perfect? His hand rose to her cheek, caressing the side of her wet face. As though she was acting on some type of reflex, she leant into the warmth of his flesh, those blue eyes fluttering shut.

  “Is that why you came looking for me?” Connor had a good idea that he already knew the answer but still, he wanted to hear the words from that delectable mouth.

  “Yes,” she whimpered, peeking up at him from under her sodden lashes. “I can’t get past you, Master. I couldn’t get past this thing between us, even if I wanted to.”

  His heart leapt at the raw truth slipping from her lips, the hand at her face slipping down to her nape. “And, do you want to, kitten?”

  Connor’s tone was low, and in the past the timbre would have acted as a warning for his pet, but not now. Now it was simply etched with all the lust and sensuality he’d been harboring for her since they’d been separated. All that hurt and emotion was laced into his question.

  “I don’t think so.” Molly’s words were barely a whisper, but as he pierced her face with his intense stare, he realized that her tears had stopped spilling.

  “What do you want then?”

  He’d barely ever asked her before, but now her desire seemed to matter more than anything else. It was more important to him than The Syndicate, or even his fucking liberty. It was critical to the next breath he was going to take.

  She gazed at him with wide, watery eyes. “This is so fucked up,” she started, lowering her face at the admission.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “I’ve got a PhD in fucked up; do you really think anything you can say will make things worse?”

  The hand at her nape made small circles, applying just enough pressure to draw her body toward him.

  “I think I want you,” she conceded in a long rush of breath. “I don’t know if it’s just the writing, or this thing between us, or what, but I think I’m bound to you, Connor.”

  Bound to him? Fuck, that sounded wonderful, and his cock sprung to life at the prospect.

  “What a delightful analogy,” he smirked, raising his left brow at her.

  Molly smiled in response, although she was practically panting as his thumb stroked the side of her nape.

  “So, you missed me?” he chuckled, pressing his body past the gear shift as he closed the distance between them.

  “More than I should,” she agreed, watching his approach with expectant eyes.

  Connor saw her pupils dilate as his face neared, and he sympathized. He felt it, too, the bond between them was stronger than anything he’d ever known.

  “I’m going to kiss you,�
� he told her in a low sensual growl. “If you don’t want this, then tell me now. I’m not good at asking for permission, kitten. This might be all that you get.”

  Molly was smiling as his words resonated, her head tipping as she took them in. “Let me answer you then.”

  He’d barely registered her words when she came for him. Connor had never seen such speed in his pet before, but she was on him before he could take another breath. Crossing the small divide between them, she pounced, pressing her body against his, and knocking him backwards as her lips took what they wanted. Connor had to admit it, he never saw this coming, but as soon as their mouths collided, he reciprocated, kissing her back as eagerly as his new position would allow. Molly’s attack had caught him off guard, and he’d slumped back into the passenger seat, now pinioned by his passionate little pet. Of course, he could have fought her off. He’d have had her flat against the driver’s seat with ease if he’d wanted to, but the truth was he didn’t want to. This was a side of Molly he had never seen.

  Because he’d never allowed it.

  But he had to concede, the wild side of his kitten was making him hard.

  Molly drew back from him, her arms either side of his chest propping her up. Her face was flushed with emotion, her eyes wild with fire. It was like she could barely believe what had just happened, what she’d just done.

  “Is that a yes to the kiss, kitten?” he laughed as he questioned her, loving how the blush in her cheeks grew darker.

  “I’m sorry,” she flustered. “It’s just I always wanted to do that, or maybe I’d just dreamt about it since we’ve been apart. I don’t know.”