Beg Me Angel

by Leah Holt

  Her lush, full body, her not-so-innocent remarks, drawing me in; she was dangling a fucking treat in my face, purposely tugging on the invisible rope she had lassoed around my cock.

  Is this a game to her?

  Was this just her way of saying thank you?

  It didn't matter, I wasn't going to let her reel me in that way, I needed her to stop. There was absolutely no way I could fuck her, even though I wanted to. Damn did I want to. She was just too young, to pure and sweet for me to ruin her the way I could.

  And when she said she was a virgin, that was it.

  I couldn't take it anymore. If she had spent one more second near me, if she had taken one step closer, I would have thrown her over the arm of the couch and fucked her till she was raw.

  A fucking virgin. . .

  You have got to be kidding me.

  What was more tempting than taking a pure innocent angel and fucking her till she praised hell and begged for more?

  There was nothing that could compare to the satisfaction I would get from corrupting her with my cock. I might have saved her from death, but that didn't mean I was a good man.

  There was a black cloud that followed me, a darkness that could pollute Vera's mind and make her wish she hadn't met me. I couldn't run from the demons in my head, I couldn't shove them into a cage and keep them sealed up forever.

  It was only a matter of time before they broke free, that's the fight I've been battling with. One day they would win, they would wear me down, making me so weak I wouldn't be able to fight them off anymore.

  My darkest thoughts would take hold and there would be nothing I could do to stop them. I'm not forgiving, I'm not kind. I'm a man with an appetite for more than she could ever handle. She wasn't ready for me and what I would demand from her.

  Whatever she's thinking about me, whatever she thinks she's feeling. . .

  She's fucking wrong.

  I'm not the man she thinks I am.

  And I never will be.

  The shower sprung on a few minutes after the door clanked shut. I watched her walk away, I watched her ass jiggle and dance like a silent temptress trying to turn me wicked.

  Washing the bowl over and over, the soapy water sloshed around as I cleaned it for way longer than I needed to. It wasn't the bowl that was filthy, it was me.

  I couldn't get the image of her naked body out of my head. Knowing that she was behind a thin layer of wood, that her wet and dripping curves were only a few feet away was killing me.

  My cock hurt as it jammed itself into my zipper, turning rock hard and itching to be the first dick to ever press inside her.

  When I found her and laid her down on the bed that night, I can't lie, the desire was there to take the first woman I had seen in ages. It was ingrained in the wild beast side of my manhood, the foul unforgiving nature that drove all men to plant their seed.

  Only I didn't. I was respectful even as the urge clawed at the surface, demanding to be set free.

  I wasn't going to allow that side to take over, even if that meant I had to keep myself away from her until she was gone.

  I will not touch her.

  She's way too young, it's wrong.

  Rinsing the dish, I dried it quickly and stuck it back in the cupboard. I had to place my focus on finding out who had hurt Vera. That was all I could do, I couldn't touch her no matter how much I wanted to, at least not yet.

  Not until I thought she was ready.

  But I would make things right. The bastard who hurt her was going to pay for what they did. I didn't have a good reason for why it meant so much to me that they paid for this, she was as much a stranger to me as the poachers I've come across in the past.

  There was danger peppering the life of this woman and I shouldn't have wanted any part of it. Only I wanted every bit of it, I wanted to breath it, feel it, consume it. Then I wanted to snuff it out.

  Does this make me a horrible person?

  That was a stupid question, one that didn't even deserve an answer. Holding the counter in both hands, I let my head fall forward, breathing in the metallic tang of the sink.

  What makes a man bad? What forces the title of evil?

  Was it torture? Was it to kill?

  If the answer was yes, then I was guilty as fuck.

  Because I knew when I found the person responsible, they'd be wishing for me to pull the trigger.

  The thought made me smile, it sent a wavy energy through my muscles and forced adrenaline through my veins. Every single second those feelings surged through my body; well, it made me feel better than I had in a long time.

  I'm fucking evil as sin.

  The shower shut off and I could hear her shuffling around. Lifting my head over my shoulder, I eyed the door. A soft voice started behind the barrier, it was gentle and mumbled, echoing off the walls.

  Is she talking to herself?

  Wait. . . Is she singing?

  How could she be singing after waking up the way she had? There was no reason for her to be humming, to be smiling, to be flirting for that matter.

  Vera really has no idea what she's been through.

  I had debated her claim of not recalling what had happened. How could she remember nothing? It didn't make sense to me.

  My decision to keep her here and not take her for help wasn't a simple choice for me to make. The whole chaotic scene I walked into was riddled with a foul odor. You don't end up like she did for no reason.

  I didn't know who was after her, I didn't know if she had gotten herself in way over her head. I spent the first two days she was here switching between watching her and watching my woods for intruders.

  Someone had done that to her, and that someone could have tried to come back and finish her off.

  But when that didn't happen, when my woods stayed quiet and no monsters seemed to be hiding, waiting. . . I prepared for something else, for the reality that her injuries might be too much for her to overcome.

  Thinking about that made me cringe, it turned my stomach and cut into my chest like a serrated blade.

  She's alive, she's walking and talking, she's here.

  Stepping to the door, I pressed my ear against the dense oak and listened. Her voice was low, but beautiful. Whatever words rolled off her tongue, it sounded like a fucking symphony of perfect harmony.

  I was mesmerized by her sound, by the high lull of her tongue as her voice grew louder and louder. The handle jiggled as she opened it, but I was so drawn to her music that I didn't even realize what was happening.

  The door popped open, my body falling forward as she pulled it in, tripping over my feet as I tried to keep my balance.

  “What are you doing?” Vera asked, clinging to the trim of the towel tucked under her arms.

  “Are you singing?” Brushing my hands down my chest, I straightened my shirt and tugged on the hem.

  Batting her lashes, she dipped her chin into her shoulder. “Yeah, it's just a song my mom used to sing to me when I was little. It helps to calm my nerves, that's all.”

  Taking a deep breath, I felt my chest lurch. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”

  Damn it!

  Get a fucking grip, you can't do this to yourself!

  Her cheeks puffed out as she glanced up at the ceiling in thought. “I don't know, that's just how I sing.”

  Small beads of water rested on the tops of her shoulders as the tips of her hair were dripping new droplets onto her skin. My eyes were drawn to her chest as the tiny balls rolled down her collarbone, disappearing into the towel.

  “Your voice is incredible.”

  Her hard nipples poked through the thick fabric, enticing me to pluck them between my teeth. I watched her legs cross, folding one foot into the floor as her hips twisted nervously.

  The delicate skin, now dewy and damp, was riddled in goosebumps as her hands curled tighter around the towel to keep it in place. “Thanks.” Vera rocked on her bare feet, flipping onto the sides and settling back onto her h
eels. “Um, I don't really want to ask you for anything else, you've already done so much, but. . .” She let her voice trail off as she kept her eyes focused on anything but me.

  “But what?” Leaning into the wall, I folded my arms. “I told you I was here to help, so ask.”

  Kicking her foot at a pile of clothes on the floor, she stirred them with her toes. “I can't put these back on, do you have anything clean I could wear?”

  Dragging a hand over my head, I reached out and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Don't ever be afraid to ask me for anything. I brought you here and I plan on making sure you get what you need.”

  Vera nodded, lowering her eyes to my chest.

  Thumbing her jaw, her skin was soft as silk, her lips now holding a natural pink hue. I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to taste how soft her lips looked, I wanted to feel her tongue on mine and her breath on my cheek.

  Forcing my hand free from her jaw, I shook it by my side, opening and closing my fingers. Just touching her sent a shock to my system, numbing my hand. “I do, hold on, I'll get you something.”

  Calm down, settle yourself.

  Standing in my room, I pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Dipping my head into my chest, I stood there for a moment, clutching the drawer.

  It was killing me that I was losing control, that my body was feeding my cock and taking over all my thoughts.

  The girl was damaged, even though she couldn't see it yet. She might not remember what caused her so much pain, but it would come back.

  And when it did, when those memories let loose and flooded her mind. . .

  Nothing would be the same.

  There would be no more smiles, no more giggling and wondering about small shit that didn't matter. Her world would collapse around her and swallow her whole.

  Maybe I should just take her, maybe I should just free myself and take what I want.

  Exhaling hard, I shut the drawer. The internal battle my body and mind were fighting was draining. It was hard enough to sit by her side and not touch her while she was sleeping. But now that she was awake, it made that meager and feeble voice grow in volume.

  No.

  Not like this.

  Holding the clothes, I headed back towards the bathroom. I already knew what I had to do, it was following the orders to myself that was getting more difficult.

  I'm going to toss her the stuff, say goodnight and walk away.

  My mind was set, no more poking the bee's nest. The further I kept myself from her, the easier it would be to keep myself in check.

  “Here.” Glancing up, I noticed she wasn't there. “Vera?”

  “In here,” she yelled from the spare room.

  Stepping to her door, I pushed it open with the back of my hand. “I don't know how well these will fit, but it's better than what you had.”

  The door swung open slowly and I strangled the clothes between my fingers as my eyes froze in place.

  I should've knocked.

  If I had been smarter I would've just dropped them outside her door and told her to get them when she was ready.

  Vera was sitting on the edge of the bed, drying her legs with the trim of the towel, her pussy shadowed and spotlighted in quick flashes. “Thanks, can you throw them next to me?”

  Her sultry lips were glistening, peeking out from under the towel, sending tingles up my spine. Swallowing hard, I snapped my head up. “Yeah, sure.”

  I tried not to look back down, to forget what I had seen and pretend it never happened. It didn't seem like she was even aware of the peepshow she was giving me. Her skin was still ivory, no cherry red streaming in from embarrassment. She didn't yelp or gasp when I opened the door.

  This woman is going to kill me.

  “What's wrong?” she asked, squeezing her legs together as she leaned forward and gripped the mattress. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  I saw something all right.

  My cock went from stiff to rock hard, ready to break free and slam deep inside her. This girl had to be out of her mind, she had no idea how much fuel she was pouring on this fire.

  I stayed in the doorway, tossing the clothes to her. “Here, I'm going to bed.”

  “Pax—”

  “Good night, Vera.” Spinning on my heels, I stalked back to my room and slammed the door shut.

  I promised her I would fix this.

  I promised her I would make it right.

  But I promised myself I wouldn't touch her.

  Chapter Six

  Vera

  The clothes he gave me smelled just like him, the juniper highlights swirled through the tightly weaved material, hijacking my body. I shouldn't have cared about that, and I definitely shouldn't have had flutters skimming across my belly the way I did.

  But as I sat and inhaled his deep musk, it sparked another memory. A two second glimpse into the night he found me. I could clearly see the thick stubble of his jaw from beneath as I was perched in his arms.

  I tried to focus on his features, on the firm lines and hard angles, only I couldn't see his face. But being matted against his chest, the way it felt to be in his arms and the smell of his clothes as a breeze blew between us, forcing his aroma into my nose, it came to life in my mind.

  He really carried me. . .

  He carried me in his arms through the woods and back to his cabin.

  The thought fed a new feeling, one that was full of torridity, excitement, a lavish thirst that made my throat dry. That vivid memory of how it felt to be wrapped inside him and pressed against his body swept in, creating a lingering sensation on my skin.

  Crossing my arms, I ran my fingertips up and down them and closed my eyes to picture his arms around me.

  He had hugged me tightly, curling me up and bracing me against his chest. A soft hum of words I couldn't understand buzzed in my ear. He had said something to me as he whisked me away from danger, away from death and back into life.

  What was it, what did he say?

  Stuffing his clothes almost up my nose, I took in another long deep breath, trying to make those words audible. I wanted to remember what he said to me, I wanted to be able to play those words over and over in my head.

  But it wasn't working. Whatever he had mumbled to me in the heat of the moment was nothing but white noise.

  Falling back on the bed, I hugged the two articles of clothing into my chest. My towel loosened, dropping to my sides and leaving me bare. I felt my nipples harden as a wintry draft trickled in from between the log walls.

  The door was shut and the room was beginning to chill as the heat from the fire no longer reached inside.

  Pushing myself up, my body still felt achy, but it had subsided, easing up on my muscles and making my movements smoother. Slipping the over-sized t-shirt over my head, the cotton fell loosely around my frame. He was right, it didn't fit at all, not even close.

  But I didn't mind. There was comfort around my body, hugging me like he had the day he saved me. I could feel the ghostly memory of his arms as the shirt touched my back, my legs, my belly.

  I tried to put on the shorts, but no matter how much I rolled them, all they did was fall off my hips. So I gave up, kicking them into the corner and tucking myself into the shirt. The weight of the day pressed down, trying to suck me into its depressive hole.

  Sara. . . I hope she's okay.

  She's fine, Vera, you know she is. There's nothing you can do right now anyway, so there's no point in worrying about it.

  I wasn't going to brood about it anymore, I had a plan, I knew what I was going to do. Tomorrow I would convince Pax to help me, I planned on forcing him to take me to the place he scooped me up from.

  There had to be something there for me to find, some sort of clue as to what happened or where Sara was. People don't just disappear, I didn't just get lost and then found by this mountain man.

  Humanity in general, had a bad habit of leaving behind traces of their existence, I was positive that it would be t
rue with this too.

  My purse wasn't with me, my phone was gone, I had none of the things I always carried. Pax had said he found me laying in a bush, but that I was the only thing that was there.

  So where did everything else go? I tried to convince myself that there was a chance I left my purse in Sara's car, but my phone would have been in my pocket, and it wasn't.

  The questions were killing me, having nothing to go on but a few meager memories was hard to swallow. I needed answers, I deserved answers.

  I wanted to believe deep down that there was a logical explanation, a valid reason for what had happened that could easily explain it all away.

  There's always a silver lining, always.

  That was my father's line, it was his life motto. When I found out he had cancer, it was devastating. I couldn't imagine my life without him, I couldn't imagine not having him to call when I had a question or when I needed backup in an argument with my mom.

  But he would throw out his line, 'Vera, there's always a silver lining, you just have to look for it.'

  For years I questioned that saying—actually, I hated it. I couldn't understand where the silver lining was when he passed or how I could ever find good in his absence.

  I was still looking for that answer, still trying to find the one thing that gave his death purpose. And even though I hadn't found it yet, I never planned on giving up my search for it.

  If he could speak to me right then, there was no doubt in my mind he would tell me it was out there, that I just had to let it come to me. He would tell me that even the smallest thing could be seen as good, despite the greatness of whatever hell I was in.

  If a huge fire came in and wiped out an entire forest, but a single butterfly made it through the ashes to live another day, he would see those wings as pure silver.

  My father was a great man; he was grounded, he was strong, he had the words I could listen to when I needed answers.

  Maybe. . . Maybe this is the same.

  Getting all the answers wasn't going to happen right away, I had to be patient, I had to wait until the answers found me. Trying to force them out did nothing, racking my brain only made it hurt.

  That didn't mean I wasn't going to look for them, it just meant that despite the effort I put in, I might not find what I was looking for just yet. But when I deserved the answer or when the time was right, it would come to me.