Ruthless Savior: A Captive Series Standalone

by Julia Sykes

  When I bent to capture her lips in mine, she went up on her toes to meet me, just as hungry for our kiss as I was. My lost little lamb was successfully trapped in my lair, and I would never let her go.

  Chapter 17

  Marisol

  I’d only been living in Raúl’s house for a week, but I was thoroughly addicted to our easy routine and quiet companionship. He’d left me a handful of times to deal with business, and I chose not to wonder what he was doing for the cartel. Being with him felt too good to be real, and I didn’t want to ruin it.

  Raúl was a man of few words, but that made him an incredibly attentive listener. I could still hardly believe that he’d surprised me with the gorgeous flowers that were now planted in the garden. We spent our days working outside together for hours, drinking in the warm sunlight and the delicate, sweet scent of my blooming roses. The grit of damp earth on my hands fulfilled something deep in my soul, and I relished our time spent in companionable silence.

  Being with him was better than any fantasy I’d ever dared to dream up. So many times, he’d shown me that there was goodness inside him; not with falsely alluring words, but with actions.

  Raúl would never turn on me. He’d never hurt me. He’s not Gehovany.

  I yearned to believe it, but I couldn’t simply forget that Raúl was a drug lord. And as our sensual games grew increasingly perverse, I found myself constantly fighting my dark, wild nature. I wanted to give in so badly. I wanted to give in to him.

  So far, I’d managed to resist the dangerous compulsion to submit to our fiery chemistry. Barely. I hadn’t fully opened myself to him yet, and he hadn’t forced himself on me.

  He won’t abuse me. I’m safe with him. The tempting reassurance played through my mind for the hundredth time. Why shouldn’t I stay? Why shouldn’t I just give us what we both want?

  My mother’s flat, lifeless eyes flashed through my thoughts, and my stomach lurched when I remembered the flowering red stain on her cheery yellow dress.

  No. I couldn’t trust myself. I couldn’t trust my judgment.

  Raúl had said it would take a while for me to recover from my trauma and get my head clear again. I believed he was right. It was too soon to make a decision that would be so permanent. Because once I chose to stay—once I fully surrendered to Raúl—I knew deep in my soul that he would never let me go.

  “Something worrying you?” His deep, rumbling voice caressed my skin, layering over the warmth of the afternoon sun.

  I shook my head and offered him a small smile. “Just a bad memory. I’m okay.” It was part of the truth, at least.

  He straightened from his crouch beside his beloved masochist chilies, standing to his full, imposing height. A contented smile curved my lips. I loved being cloaked in his protective shadow.

  He held out his hand to me. I immediately grasped it, so he could pull me to my feet.

  “I have something to show you,” he announced.

  I beamed and followed where he led. I should feel a pang of guilt for accepting so many lavish gifts from my criminal captor, but my giddy excitement was untainted by dark emotion. My stomach fizzed with anticipation, and I practically bounced along beside him.

  The grin he turned on me was sharper than simple fondness; he found triumphant, savage pleasure in my joy, as though each burst of excitement was a ruthless victory for him.

  I should’ve been alarmed at his open possessiveness, but it was becoming harder to find any thrill of fear over it. After suffering so much agony at the hands of cruel men, being showered with intensely personal, thoughtful gifts was like a dream.

  Raúl provided for me, going far above and beyond simple necessities.

  The rope around my heart tugged, tethering me to him more tightly.

  I noted the direction of our path—it would lead us directly to Raúl’s mysterious workshop. Sometimes, he disappeared in there for hours at a time, and he refused to tell me what he was crafting. Although I burned with curiosity, I didn’t press him to tell me if he didn’t want to. He always emerged in a deep state of relaxation, his eyes heavy-lidded from expending some of the savage energy that built inside him in between bouts of physical exertion.

  I relished our time in the spa afterwards. We’d soak in the hot tub, and I’d rub the soreness from his bulging, mouthwatering muscles. Soothing him was the least I could do to reciprocate the care he showed for my wellbeing.

  And I liked touching him. Skin-to-skin contact relaxed my entire being like a sedative.

  Since the night I’d awakened from the grips of the dark dream about my mother’s murder, I hadn’t suffered a single nightmare. Raúl’s strong arms protected me, even in sleep.

  A happy sigh blew from my lips when we reached the door to his workshop. “You’re finally going to reveal the secrets of your man cave?” I teased.

  He paused, and the slightly cruel tilt to his smile taunted me. His low hum rolled through my body, hitting my core as an intense, stimulating vibration.

  His cocky smirk twisted. He knew exactly what he was doing to me, drawing out my anticipation and pulling me deeper into his thrall.

  “Maybe lost little lambs don’t belong in my man cave. If you don’t want to see it, we can go back into the house.”

  “No, no,” I insisted breathlessly, my hand tightening around his. “I want to see. Please?”

  His smile softened, and he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear before opening the door and ushering me inside.

  When we stepped over the threshold, my jaw dropped. I’d never seen this kind of heavy-duty machinery, but the massive sledgehammers and jagged scraps of metal indicated what he used the space for.

  “Metalworking?” I recalled the rigid, iron furniture that added to the austere aesthetic of his home—from the glass-topped tables in his whiskey and cigar room to his imposing king-size bed.

  My delighted giggle bubbled into the cavernous space. Suddenly, Raúl’s fist sank into my hair, and he pulled my body into his steely grip, trapping me so my chest pressed tightly to his.

  “Is something funny, corderita?” Despite his warning growl, light danced in his verdant green eyes.

  My palm rested on his cheek, and my fingers slid into his thick black hair. I loved the way the close-cropped style didn’t quite tame the hint of his curls, softening his stony appearance ever so slightly.

  “It’s just so…you.” A fond smile played around my mouth. My free hand curved over his corded arm, unable to span even half its impressive girth. “You’ve chosen a pastime that must require enormous strength. You’re always so much calmer after you come out of your workshop. Pushing your endurance levels to create something useful is exactly the sort of thing I’d expect you to enjoy.”

  His granite features softened to an awestruck expression that flooded my entire being with sunlight. He tenderly traced the line of my jaw before tipping my head back for his kiss.

  The only response he offered for my interpretation of his hobby was one of his signature, rumbling grunts. I understood that he didn’t have the words to express his feelings. His taciturnity didn’t mean that he was unaffected by my insight into the deepest, most beautiful parts of his soul. He showed me how much I meant to him with reverent strokes of his tongue against mine, gentle at first, then turning rougher as hunger overtook us both.

  Never releasing my mouth, he stepped toward me, forcing me to move where he directed. My ass bumped into something hard, but he didn’t stop his advance.

  He kept my lips locked beneath his, anchoring me in place with his fist in my hair. He pulled on the thick waves, forcing me to arch into him. His chest pressed down on mine, until my back settled on a hard, cool surface.

  My shoulders and upper back were exposed, my skin left mostly bare by the summery design of my lavender sundress. The rough scratch of unpolished wood against my flesh told me that Raúl had laid me out over his worktable.

  It felt more like an altar, and I was the sacrifice to this dark, hu
ngry god. He utterly consumed me, his tongue claiming my mouth in deep, demanding strokes.

  One big hand captured both my wrists and pinned them to the wood above my head, stretching my helpless body beneath him. I was his tribute, his plaything to toy with for his own cruel amusement.

  His muscular thigh wedged between my legs, and his fingers sank into my hip, jerking my ass to the edge of the table. My sex was forced tight to his thigh, stimulating my most vulnerable area with dark pleasure. He leaned into me, forcing his thigh deeper between my legs.

  When he rubbed ruthlessly over my pulsing clit, I arched against him and whimpered into his mouth. His low hum held the wicked edge of a savage chuckle. The sound of his arrogant satisfaction in the power he held over me made my core pulse in time with my heartbeat. Wet heat soaked my panties, and his rough jeans grew damp with my arousal.

  I should’ve been embarrassed at my wantonness, but it wasn’t shame that flushed my entire body with delicious heat.

  Keeping my wrists pinned above my head with one hand, the other roved over my breasts, squeezing hard before toying with my nipples. He stroked them through the barrier of my dress, drawing them to tight, needy buds beneath his cruelly teasing fingers.

  He utterly controlled my body, and my mind floated away, blissfully ceding to his power over me. The heady rush of release drew a moan from my chest, and I writhed beneath him, shamelessly seeking more stimulation. I rotated my hips, desperate to rub my throbbing clit against his hard thigh.

  Just as I found a rhythm that would drive my pleasure high enough to make me come undone, he wrenched himself away from me.

  I cried out at the shocking loss of his heat, but before the wash of cool air could chill my skin, his huge hands bracketed my waist.

  A squeal burst from my lips when he roughly flipped me over. One heavy palm pressed against my lower back, pinning me to the rough table like a butterfly to a board. His free hand shoved my dress over my ass, exposing my delicate, pink panties.

  His low groan morphed into a hungry growl, and I shrieked as he spanked me hard enough to brand my flesh with the burning imprint of his hand. At the thought of his mark on me, the stinging pain fizzed into pleasure. Bubbly euphoria flooded my mind, and I softened in complete surrender.

  His fingers curled into the lace that barely covered my pussy. A snarl matched the savagery of the panties ripping beneath his strong hands.

  His touch left my flesh, and the soft jangle of his belt being unbuckled sounded like alarm bells in my mind.

  I was quivering with my traitorous desire, bent over for his use; completely exposed.

  Completely vulnerable. Weakened by my dangerous lust.

  “Wait!” I gasped, squirming to get away rather than pushing my needy pussy toward him in invitation. My core gave a painful throb, protesting my refusal to submit.

  Suddenly, Raúl shoved away from me. The cold air that closed over my heated body chilled me to my bones. His massive hands bracketed my waist, flipping me over with enough force to make true fear flutter low in my belly. But even that sensation heightened my arousal, and a thrill shuddered down my spine as my trepidation turned erotic.

  I wanted him; I wanted his darkness, his danger.

  Even as his chest pressed down on mine, pinning me beneath him, I shook my head to try to forcibly deny my most twisted urges.

  His hands captured my wrists, slamming them into the wood at either side of my head; holding me in place like shackles. I stifled a low moan, resisting the delicious compulsion to submit, to let go and give myself to Raúl.

  His white teeth flashed in a snarl, only inches from my face. “Why are you pushing me away?” he demanded.

  “I…” My tongue darted out to wet my dry lips. “I’m scared.”

  “Bullshit,” he seethed. “You’re not scared of me. You haven’t been for a long time. You know I won’t violate you. What more can I do to prove it to you?” His fingers flexed around my wrists. “Why are you doing this, Marisol? Why are you denying me?” His voice dropped deeper, rougher. “Why are you denying us?”

  “I’m not scared of you.” The admission tumbled from my lips, high and thin. His aggression should’ve terrified me, but it was the pain that darkened his eyes that shredded me. “I’m scared of me.”

  The lines around his eyes drew deeper, and his snarl retreated to a scowl. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t trust myself.” I stared up at him, beseeching. “I have this…dark force inside me. It makes me lose myself. When I give in to it, bad things happen.”

  His heavy brows drew together. “Bad things. Are you talking about what happened with that fucker, Gehovany? What he did wasn’t your fault.”

  My throat constricted. “But it was. My parents warned me that he was a bad man, but I didn’t listen. I was selfish and weak. My reckless desire clouded my mind, and my mother died because of it. I fell for a dangerous man, and my family paid for my sin in blood. I can’t trust myself when I feel like this, when I want like this.” I said the last on a pained whisper, confessing the ugliest parts of my soul.

  Raúl’s face hardened to stone, and he recoiled from me as though I’d burned him. “Dangerous man.” Acid dripped from my echoed description, burning a hole through my heart.

  Too late, I realized what I’d done. The hurtful words had lashed at him, and I couldn’t take them back.

  “You think I’m like him? You think I’m like the bastard who killed your mother; the man who abused you and drove you away from the safety of your home and your family?”

  “No!” I had to make this right. Even though I had hidden fears that his criminal nature meant he was like Gehovany, I couldn’t bear to see him so wounded, as though I’d driven a knife into his heart. “I don’t think you’re like him. I know you would never hurt me like he did. But when I got together with him, I didn’t realize he was involved in a gang, and—”

  “Just like me, you mean?” His harsh bark was edged with anguish. “No, not like me,” he spat. “What my cartel does is so much worse than any gang. I kill people for money. I kill them for power. I’ve just been pretending with you, but you’ve seen me for what I really am all along: evil.”

  “No! Raúl, no. That’s not what I think. You’re not evil.” He had to believe me. “It’s true that I’ve struggled with the fact that you’re involved with the cartel.” He wouldn’t accept an outright lie. All I could do was be completely honest with him. “And yes, I’ve worried that I can’t trust my judgment right now. I don’t think you’re like Gehovany. I don’t!” I insisted more vehemently when he opened his mouth to argue.

  “I’m not afraid for myself. I am not afraid of you, Raúl.” I spoke the promise with such fervor that yearning momentarily flickered in his eyes.

  A heartbeat later, they shuttered again, protecting him from the storm raging between us.

  I pressed on, determined to break through his walls and allay the pain I’d inflicted.

  “I’m afraid that if I selfishly give in to this dark force within me—this wild desire that scares me as much as it thrills me—the people I love will get hurt again. Not by your hand,” I interjected firmly. “But your cartel is dangerous. The men you work with are dangerous. People I love could be targeted because I’m with you. I can’t be responsible for that. I can’t have anyone else die because of me.”

  Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I pushed up off the table to reach for him. He yanked his hand away, but I snatched his wrist. As soon as our skin made contact, he stilled. He could’ve broken free from my weak grip so easily. Physically, I couldn’t hold him here if he wanted to leave.

  But my frail fingers seemed to bind him as effectively as iron chains. His nostrils flared on deep, beastly breaths, and a low, continuous growl sounded at the back of his throat; the warning of a wounded predator.

  Despite my hammering heartbeat, I resolutely took a step toward him, closing the distance between us until his body heat pulsed against my skin.<
br />
  I lifted his hand and pressed his palm to my cheek. “I trust you, Raúl. I know you won’t hurt me. I just need some time to process all this. Please. I need you to understand. I…I care about you.” I turned my face into his hand, and a hot tear trailed over his thick fingers.

  His thumb caught the next tear, brushing over my cheekbone with the reverent tenderness that melted my heart. His deep green eyes were still tight with pain, but they no longer glinted like hard, polished jade.

  “Marisol…” He rasped my name like a prayer, the only word he seemed capable of offering.

  It was more than enough. I’d hurt him in the worst way, but this powerful, savage man was making himself vulnerable with me.

  I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck and went up on my tiptoes, seeking a kiss. He lowered his head with a groan, meeting me halfway.

  The kiss was tender, reassuring. As my lips caressed his, I traced the contours of his bulging muscles, silently communicating my appreciation for his strength. I wanted him to feel how much comfort I found in his powerful body; I didn’t fear his imposing musculature. He used his strength only to protect me, never to threaten.

  I wanted to show him that I meant every word I’d said.

  I didn’t fear him, and I never would. He was nothing like Gehovany, and I desperately needed to erase any festering doubts that might linger in his mind after our difficult conversation.

  I still needed more time to sort through my feelings about his involvement with the cartel, but that meant keeping myself in check, not him. He’d respected all my boundaries, even when he’d been seconds away from burying his thick cock in my pussy and finally sating himself.

  Ever since our intense scene in the woods, we hadn’t taken our physical intimacy further. We touched each other freely, but I hadn’t yielded more.

  Raúl wasn’t a man of many words. He needed actions to truly hear me. I would show him how much I trusted him; how much I wanted him, even if I wasn’t ready to fully trust myself.