Sadie Hart

by Cry Sanctuary

At the entrance he hesitated. He wanted to pick her up, carry her to the bed, and pin her beneath him. Christ, but he wanted inside her now. Hard and fast and probably not what she needed right now. Caine dragged in a rough breath, searching for control, until Ollie turned and framed his face in her hands again and gave him a smoldering kiss. Heat raged through his body and his control wobbled precariously. Grabbed her hips, lifting her against his painfully ready cock, and she groaned into his mouth.

  With one kiss she told him everything, holding back nothing. No holds barred, when she kissed him it was rough, her lips molding his to his teeth until he opened to let her in, her tongue sparring with his, and for the first time, Caine found himself fighting for dominance. Not a chance, sweetheart. Maybe later, but not this time.

  He growled and bent her backwards as he slid a leg between her thighs. He rubbed at the small of her back, his hands coasting up over her hips. Massaging her, slowly, everywhere, until her head dropped back, submitting. Surrendering to his kiss. Almost roughly, he slid her up and down his leg while he pressed her back against the door frame, loving the little whimpers that burst from her as he took control. Guiding her, one hand slipping between her legs so his thumb pressed against that delicious spot still hidden under her jeans. She vibrated at his touch.

  Each time his lips met hers he sought a deeper kiss, demanded more, and her hands slipped from his face to grab his shoulders, pulling her body up tighter against his. Her chest rubbing against his. “Caine.”

  He grinned and nipped at her lip, darting his mouth over her jaw to skate teeth along the edge of her neck, licking gently at the soft spot behind her ear. “Do you want this?”

  She laughed, a hint of merriment in her eyes as she gazed back up at him. “For a man who kisses like that—” She leaned in to kiss his bottom lip, “I’d think you’d damn well take it.”

  His eyebrows arched, teasing. Truth was, he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure he could stop once he started. Fuck, but he wanted inside her. Now. And if they moved one step closer to that bed, Caine wasn’t sure he’d be able to think past the urgent throb of his cock.

  He knew he damn well didn’t want to.

  Ollie leaned her head back against the doorframe, watching him. The tip of his tongue touched his lips, where he could still taste her, and he watched as heat flared in her eyes. Caine leaned closer. “I can smell your lust, sweetheart.” She shivered and he dug his fingers into her cushiony hips. With a tilt of his head, he gestured to his room. “In or out.”

  An impish grin flashed over her face as she straightened her legs till he loosened his grip to let her and stand. Heading into his bedroom, she glanced back over her shoulder, smiling seductively and batting her eyelashes outrageously. “Both.”

  Then with one quick movement she crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulled it off and sent it sailing through the air. Caine’s throat dried up as his body clenched with pure, unadulterated, primal lust.

  Chapter Sixteen

  God, his face was priceless. Ollie felt powerful, strong, sexy standing in his room with Caine gaping like a starving man in the doorway. His gaze darted all over the place, as if he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look first, and Ollie slipped her hands to her jeans, loving the way his gaze tracked her fingertips, the hungry way he licked his lips.

  Goosebumps popped up all over her skin, and she shivered at the predatory gleam in his eyes, the wolf quivering in anticipation, ready to pounce. “My, my, Mr. Wolf, what big teeth you have.”

  With a low, fierce rumble, Caine closed the distance between them, hard muscles bunching. He caught her wrists before she could finish tugging down the zipper, and when she looked down at his hands she was pleased to see the huge bulge in his jeans. Her thighs, belly, and everything in between clenched with longing, anticipation soaking her at the thought of having him inside her. Shit, but she wanted him.

  His nostrils flared as another shudder ran through them both.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, bending his head down to gently scrape teeth over one breast and then the other. “Absolutely fucking beautiful.”

  His voice trembled over the words, and her knees went weak, wobbly. She had a million things she should have been thinking about, leads to try and track down, a killer that damn well needed every moment of her time, but it would all have to wait. It was time for this man, for their possibilities.

  His warm breath slid down her neck and her head fell back, instantly giving him access. She felt his lips curve against her neck, imagined the wicked flare of his grin. He thrived off submission, loved every freaking minute of it, and Ollie groaned. Another second and he’d have her belly up on the floor when her knees gave way. Tonight, she could let the alpha have his way. Yielding to him gave her far more power than she’d ever dreamed. Her body hummed with the knowledge of his lust, desire soaking her panties.

  A nip jarred her eyes back open, and Caine tilted his head towards the bed, letting her go. “Lie down.”

  Her body quivered, legs ready to collapse, and she wasn’t sure she could even make it the two feet to his bed. Caine gave a rumble of a laugh, picked her up and carefully placed her on the cotton sheets, using one knee to knock hers apart, leaving her open.

  She wanted him there. Touching her, kissing her, inside her. She reached for her jeans again, hips arching, but Caine caught her hands in his. “Not yet,” he murmured.

  “Caine.” She sucked in a hard breath as his teeth found the tip of her nipple, rasping deliciously over the lace of her bra. Her hips writhed, grinding on nothing but air before his fell to meet hers, drawing a low, keening moan from her. “Sometime today, Caine.”

  “Fuck that.” He nuzzled into her breasts. “I have all night.”

  “But—” There were so many things that could interrupt them. There was no guarantee the Hunter would even wait for a—

  “Stop.” Caine blew out a hard breath and leaned his head against her chest, nuzzling in between her breasts. “Obviously, I still haven’t taken you far enough yet. You’re still thinking too damn much.”

  Oh God.

  He released her hands so he could run his over her breasts, rolling the soft mounds. His lips found her breast and he suckled softly, his tongue laving over the fabric-clad nipple and Ollie gasped, her back bowing. She gripped his shoulders, her voice suddenly plaintive as she cried out. “Caine. Please.”

  He gave a wicked chuckle. “Better, much better. Now let’s see just how much higher I can take you.”

  A shiver jolted through her, right before the clasp of her bra came undone and he was shoving the fabric up out of the way. Cool air brushed over wet skin and she mewled at the contact, only to have his lips back, caressing her sensitive nipple, until her womb clenched, hard, and her hips moved of their own accord. He moved to the other breast, and Ollie could feel the edge coming closer, her orgasm so close to exploding when Caine pulled away again.

  Ollie clutched at his shoulders in an attempt to drag him back down. Like hell. They so weren’t done here. Caine gently pushed her back down into the mattress, a pleased growl rumbling out of him.

  “Stay,” he murmured, the word a low heat against her belly, and then he was gone.

  She thought about arguing, but the sight of Caine standing over her, those dark eyes on hers, and she relaxed. “Hurry up.”

  “Of course,” Caine murmured, but he didn’t leave. He just stood there, staring down at her and Ollie squirmed, her bra bunched above her breasts, jean-clad legs still spread wide. Her hands gripped the sheets as Caine leaned in. He stroked a finger down the crease between her thighs, and Ollie’s hips jerked automatically. “So wet, sweetheart.”

  Her breath skittered in her lungs, shaky and uneven, and he grinned. “Give me one second.”

  Oh, hell. Ollie jerked as he disappeared out of sight around the edge of the bed, but held herself down. Thighs trembling, she bit down on her bottom lip, trying for patience and failing. She’d wanted him yesterday
. Hell, the first date. In the woods. Then he was back, naked, gloriously naked.

  “That look on your face right now, Ol. So fucking hot. You want me.”

  The ridged muscles of his abdomen clenched as she stared at him, gaze sliding up to the broad width of his shoulders, then darting back down to the lean muscles in his thighs and the hot, hard length of his cock. She swallowed as he rolled the condom on, and she quivered silently on the bed. Of course she wanted him. She’d have to be fucking dead not to want him.

  He pumped one hand up the length of him, those dark eyes closing, so full of heat they burned like coals, and an urgent sound slipped from her.

  “I like you like this.”

  His hands spread over her thighs, thumbs rubbing in small circles along the seams of her jeans, slowly making his way closer and closer to her pelvis, and she found her hips moving in time to his circles. Begging without saying a word.

  “Just waiting for me.”

  His fingers slipped up and into her jeans and he tugged. Ollie lifted her hips, helping him slip them off. He drew her underwear down next, her breath hissing out between her teeth as his knuckles brushed the slick lips between her thighs. She lay there bare for him as he slid his hands along her thighs and spread them wide for him again.

  Her lip trembled as his fingers explored, playing in her slicks folds, and she bit down to keep herself from crying out. Then one finger skated over her clit and a moan burst from her, the orgasm rocking through her and suddenly she couldn’t stop moving.

  Two fingers slipped inside, his thumb still teasing over her clit, and Ollie cried out again, her body clamping down on his fingers as she came. Oh, God, but she needed this. More. Him. Then his hands were gone, wet fingers wrapping around her hips as he lifted her and slipped inside, drawing another groan from her. Ollie clutched at his shoulders, holding him to her. This, this, was what she’d needed tonight.

  “Christ,” Caine whispered, and she rocked against him, driving him deeper.

  Heart pounding, Ollie thrust up to meet him, her hands sliding down his back, frantic, and she could feel his muscles bulging, his hands tight on her hips as he plunged deeper, harder, faster. Her arms quivered, her body arching into his. Rough hair abraded her sensitized nipples, and she was crying out when his mouth covered hers.

  His hips bucked against hers, then one hand slipped between them, the roughened, callused tip of his finger finding her clit again, and Ollie could feel herself spiraling closer to the edge once more, her eyes locked on his, refusing to look away. So fucking close.

  He thrust again, her hips meeting his with a slap of skin, his fingers sliding over the wet nub of her clit and Ollie, yielding completely, surrendering every atom of her being to him. No holding back. There was no room for regret, nor rational thought, nothing but her world exploding around her and rebuilding itself around him.

  ***

  Caine felt her come apart in his arms again. He kept one hand nestled between her wet folds, rubbing along her clit as he drove her over the edge. The other stayed tangled in her hair, holding her head back so she would look him as he drove into her. So fucking vulnerable underneath him. His. Safe. Protected. And yet, the strongest goddamn woman he’d ever met. His balls tightened, contracting, and Caine let out a groan as her eyes opened, the hard metallic of steel clashing with his, but he could feel her submit beneath him.

  Her lips parted as whimper rocked from her, a sound that filled his soul. Love. He could feel it in the way she trembled and surged to meet him with every thrust, hear it in the low mewling sounds she made as she shattered in another orgasm, and he wrapped his hands tight in her hair and leaned down to breathe her in. To inhale the scent of their love-making, and then, as he lowered his lips to hers, to taste it.

  Tongue tangling with hers, Caine surged into her one last time, his balls tight against her thighs as he came. “Mine,” he said, somewhere between a growl and a roar.

  But every bit as much as she’d given to him, he’d given it all back to her in the form of his heart. Caine stilled above her, his forehead resting on hers. Their breaths came in short, rapid pants as they lay there together, her arms trembling as she still held them above her. Another shudder rocked through him at the thought. Satisfaction flooded through him, warm and welcome, and he relaxed against her, still joined with her.

  Soft laughter touched her lips as she smiled up at him, her eyes fluttering as they lay there in the aftermath, too tired to move. Fuck. He never wanted to move. He could just stay right here until he was hard enough to go again. And again. To spend the rest of his life merged with her, Christ, but that sounded perfect.

  Heaven. That’s what he’d found right here. Caine leaned down and kissed that sweet smile on her face, her mouth still as delicious and addicting as the first time, and he laughed. “I think I’m going to stay right here. For the rest of my life.”

  Her body convulsed under the weight of his words, heat flaring through her with another round of goosebumps, and Caine found himself nibbling along her jaw. She still smelled like apple blossoms and dog, but this time she also smelled of him. Of their lovemaking. There was nothing in this world that could match the woman underneath him. Not in looks, scent, and sure as hell nothing matched the steel-forged personality that formed the core of her.

  He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over. Hands still twisted in the sheets, she pulled them with her, drawing another delighted laugh from him. One-handed he reached over and untangled her fingers.

  He pulled her hands to his chest. “Hang on to me now, and don’t let go.”

  The way her smile deepened coiled tight around his heart. There was a promise there, a surety, a cocky confidence that said she’d already understood everything, felt and smelled and tasted it as they’d shattered in each other’s arms. “Don’t worry,” she murmured against his lips. “I won’t.”

  And this time, she kissed him, clinging to his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his hips, with Caine still lodged deep inside her. By the time they started again, she still hadn’t let go, and when sleep finally dragged them both under, her arms were wrapped around his neck, her legs around his hips.

  Caine held her just as close.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Danielle Carson stared up at him, her body shaking. Tied spread-eagled over the bed, she looked so helpless. So perfect. Another tear slipped down her cheek, and her jaw trembled so much her teeth chattered. Dean reached out and ran a hand up her calf, loving the instant wildfire of fear in her eyes. No longer just a spark, but a blazing bonfire as she looked up at him.

  “Please don’t.”

  He ignored her. This was part of the fun. Breaking them. Watching as they splintered open and screamed with fear. His finger trailed up her thigh, and she clamped her eyes shut, refusing to look. He hit her once. A slap of his hand against her cheek, and she cried out. His wolf-heightened senses heard her daughter whimper in the other room, and he knew the woman heard it too. Kids didn’t interest him. Unlike women—grown women—they were too easy.

  He’d had to break this one. Showing her pain, showing her what he could do. Before, raping his victims had just been a good way to pass the time. An outlet for the sexual energy locked up inside him. Made it so he didn’t have to pay for whores or tolerate living with someone else. Fuck that.

  Now, though, it was a way to make them fear him more. Make them so desperate to run that when he let them go in the woods they tore off. His heart pumped at the thought of this one running away, trying to drag her little girl with her. He wondered, would she desert the child if she was afraid he’d catch her?

  “Please,” she begged, and Dean ignored her. Begging had never worked with him.

  He raped her again, brutally. Made her scream even louder this time, in spite of her resistance as she still tried to protect her little girl crying in the other room.

  When he was done he pulled out, wiping himself off on her shirt, and he tossed it at her. She flinched, t
rying to pull away, another cry wrenching out of her. He zipped up his jeans and stepped back, watching as she shivered and trembled. So scared. He licked his lips.

  He almost didn’t want to wait.

  Almost.

  But the last one had messed up his schedule enough. No. His hands toyed with her pussy, his heart picking up speed at the way she screamed out, begging for him to let her go. Like she had anything he wanted. It was almost laughable. This woman had nothing to bargain with. Nothing.

  Dean leaned down and whispered in her ear as he squeezed over her mound. “When I let you go, you run, little bitch. You’ll only get one shot before I catch you. If I catch your daughter, she just dies. If I catch you both, you’ll watch as I rape her before I kill you both.”

  A ragged whimper slid out of her, and he could actually see when a part of her retreated deep inside, like a light snuffing out in her eyes. Dean puzzled over that as he continued to stroke her. Not enough. Not scared enough yet. “Or maybe I won’t kill her. I’ll let you see what I’m going to do to her for the rest of her life. Then I’ll let you die, and I’ll keep her. Right here. Just like I have you.”

  There.

  Suffering, dragging defeat bore down on her as he watched the knowledge sink in. Watched as she desperately tried to think of options. He’d already explained the woods. How her only shot at getting away was running. He’d described how it would be if she tried to carry her daughter, how much slower she’d be.

  Now, he just watched as all those conversations flashed in her eyes, and the woman that was Danielle Carson was extinguished. The empty shell of her body still breathed, and when he let her go, it would be blind terror that drove her to run. Survival instinct. The same instinct that would have a wolf chew off its own leg when caught in a trap, desperate to survive, to get free.

  That same instinct that might force a mother to abandon her child.