Kidnapped by the Fae: Paranormal Dark Fae Romance (Fae's Claim Book 5)

by Laxmi Hariharan

  "Come out, Charlotte."

  That’s not my name. I am Charley.

  He cuts a strand of Shoshanna's locks. A sob catches in my throat. Don’t cry, Charley. He can’t reach you here. I mutter under my breath. "Shush Shoshanna, don’t you cry, mummy’s gonna bake you your favorite cookies, then sing you a lullaby. And when you’re all grown up, she’s going to take you shopping, buy you your favorite toys. You'll grow up to be beautiful—and you’ll spread your legs, then, won’t you? You’ll give in to him. Don’t resist, Charley."

  "It hurts, Mama." I sob.

  She tugs at my hair, straightening out the wayward locks. "You must do as he says. He won’t hurt you then." She offers me more of the lemonade.

  "It’s sour, Mama."

  "Drink up, and you’ll feel better."

  Drift away, little kitty. Sleep it off. And when you awake everything will be okay. Okay.

  I hiccup. Mama’s gone now, and no one is left to protect me from the monster.

  He prowls closer, closer. Cuts off another lock of Shoshanna's hair, and another. The golden strands float to the floor, catch the light from the window. He flings away the doll, leaps forward and pulls open the door. I lunge back; he catches my arm. He drags me out, then throws me across the room. I hit the wall, and lay there panting. He turns, ambles toward me.

  No, no, this isn’t happening. I squeeze my eyes shut. Go away. Go away, please.

  He grabs my skirt. I scream.

  4

  Hawke

  "Charley!" I lean over her on the hospital bed.

  The paramedics had rushed her into the ER, where the doctor and a team of nurses had taken over. They'd examined her, x-rayed her, confirmed that there were no broken bones, no concussion. She'd been badly shaken; that was all. I'd insisted they keep her overnight for observation—with me keeping watch, of course.

  I'd fallen asleep in the chair next to the bed in the private room I'd demanded, and had woken up when she'd cried out. Is she having a nightmare?

  "Char." I touch her arm and her body bucks.

  "Let go of me, you animal!" Her face contorts in her sleep, "And you call yourself my father...?"

  Father? I freeze.

  Tristan had told me about how her father had abused Jess' mother and her sister who was Charley's mother.

  Had he touched Charley as well?

  My heart begins to thud; my mouth dries.

  "Sweetheart, you're dreaming."

  She twists her torso, throws a fist.

  I duck, but her knuckles graze my cheek. "Open your eyes, babe."

  Her head thrashes side to side. She moans, the sound so helpless, so broken, my heart stutters. The band around my chest tightens.

  "Charley..." I swallow. A pressure knocks at my temples. I lean in close and her chin wobbles.

  "Let me go." She whisper-screams.

  "Wake up, darling."

  She rears up, and I hold her shoulders. Her bones stab into my palm. Damn it, she’s so fragile. Yet when she was awake and walking around, she’d felt so much larger than life.

  She writhes around, draws up her knee and catches me in the groin. "Fuck." The breath rushes out of me.

  "Charley, stop."

  She freezes. A beat...another. Then throws her head forward and catches me in the chin. My neck snaps back. Red and white stars crash behind my eyes. Fuck this. I lean more of my weight on her. A cry of terror spills from her lips. Her entire body jerks. Her muscles lock.

  "No, please. Don’t hurt me." The terror in her voice sinks into my blood. All of the hairs on my neck stand on end. Someone hurt her. Who dared to lay a finger on her? When I find out who he or she is, the motherfucker will wish he had never been born.

  "Babe, please."

  Her eyes snap open. She stares at me. Color fades from her face. "H…Hawke?"

  "It's me, little one."

  "Where… What?" She swallows. Tears leak down her cheeks.

  My chest seems to crumple in on itself. "Char, don’t cry." My throat closes. The fuck is happening to me? Why do I feel her pain as if it’s my own? The hollowness in my chest grows, black tendrils of despair that reach out to my extremities. My fingers tremble. "You had a nightmare."

  "Hawke…I..." She scans my features, her eyes big in her face.

  "Darling…" I am not sure what to do. What should I say? How can I ease her pain?

  "A dream?" She swallows. "It was… He is… Not here?"

  I frown, "There's no one else here."

  Her chin trembles. "I’m so scared." She grips the front of my shirt. Her fingers graze my chest. Ice-cold. Fear bleeds off of her.

  "You’re shaking."

  "Hawke, I need…" More tears pour down her cheeks.

  "Anything… What do you want? How can I help? I..."

  "Hold me."

  I freeze.

  Her features twist and her entire body trembles.

  Fuck this. I can’t see her like this—alone and helpless and locked in some space in her head, where her demons are larger than life.

  I glance around... Then, I crawl onto the bed and scoop her up onto my lap. She shrinks into me. Her hands are trapped between us. Her entire body shudders. I cradle her, croon to her, surround her with my presence.

  "Tell me what you need." I hunch my body around her.

  She begins to sob—great gusts of tears that batter her frame. A pressure builds behind my eyes; something big seems to engulf my chest. I’ve never felt this…helpless. Unable to act, to think, to do anything except focus all of my attention on the precious bundle in my lap. If something were to happen to her… I’d… Kill myself. I stiffen.

  What am I thinking?

  How can I feel so intensely about someone I barely know? Not for her lack of trying. I had made sure to keep my distance from her. I’d run every time I’d spotted her, seen her, smelled her luscious essence. A turn of her ankle, the long lean lines of her slim legs. The flare of her hips, the peaks of her breasts. My groin hardens. Fuck you, asshole, keep it in your pants.

  I hum under my breath. Croon to her. Her sobbing recedes. She peers up at me from in between those dark lashes. Another teardrop drips from the edge of her eye. It stays poised for a beat then slinks down her cheek.

  I drop my head and lick it up.

  She freezes.

  My muscles bunch. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have—"

  She shakes her head, "Kiss me."

  Every pore in my body seems to come alive. Heat sears my groin.

  "You’re hurting and vulnerable, now is not the time—"

  "Now is exactly the time." She juts out her chin.

  "Baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for."

  "I know what I need."

  "No." I frown.

  "Yes." She sets her jaw.

  "Charley." I grimace.

  "Hawke, you said you’d give me what I need. This… I choose this. Don’t deny me, not now."

  A pulse flares to life at my temples, at my wrists. My pulse begins to thud. This is not how it should be happening. I am the aggressor here. The more dominant one. Yet this little thing has me wrapped up around her little finger. My heart hurts. My dick engorges. I peruse her features—her cheeks have more color, her chest heaves, her nipples outlined against her shirt.

  I can’t tear my gaze from her. Can’t move either. If I do, I’ll lose control. Every single promise I’ve made to myself will be gone in the blink of an eye.

  I purse my lips.

  "Please."

  She straightens in my arms. Swings her leg over, and straddles me. My dick is instantly hard. Fuck. I hold my breath, wait. Wait. She leans up, kisses me. The blood rushes to my groin. My cock throbs. Her breath sears my cheek; her scent fills my nostrils. Roses, she smells of roses. Hot, intense, and filled with the essence of everything I have spent my life looking for. Her eyebrows lower. "Sorry," she mutters, then turns her head. Baring the creamy skin of her neck. Soft, sweet, vulnerable. Ready to be taken, marked. Claimed. Mat
e her. My heart hammers in my chest so hard I am sure it’s going to break out of my ribcage.

  I cup her face, angle her toward me, then I lower my head.

  5

  "Turn-ons: Lip biting, ass grabbing, hair pulling, having me up against the wall, licking my neck, sucking on my tongue... love bites..."

  -From Charley's secret diary

  Charley

  His mouth covers mine.

  Hard lips. Hot breath. I gasp and he tangles his tongue with mine—sure, deft, masterful. He angles his chin, and his tongue thrusts further inside of my mouth.

  The taste of him—edgy, dark, with a touch of something incomprehensible, something complex, something beyond my reach. It's pure Hawke.

  My fingers tingle and my toes curl.

  Every part of me seems to come alive. I strain against him, my breasts flattened against that hard, unforgiving chest. Everything about him is layered, textual, muscles upon muscles, unyielding, uncompromising. He takes from me. Sucks from me. He’s all around me.

  The blood pounds behind my eyes. My thighs clench; moisture pools between my legs. I lean in closer. Pull my hands from between us and grasp his hair and tug. A groan rumbles up that massive chest, trembling up my sensitized breasts. My nipples pebble so hard, they ache with the need for more. I want more. I lean into him, press my thighs into his sides. I yank at his hair, pull him closer, closer… His kiss deepens. He plunges his tongue inside my mouth and drinks from me. My head spins. My scalp tingles. Goosebumps dot my skin. I moan deep inside. Curve my spine, grind my pussy into the hard column that tents his pants. I drag my melting core up and down the length of his shaft, shoving my breasts into the barrier of his body.

  The world tilts. I open my eyes and forget to breathe. His golden eyes glare back—burning, fierce, filled with some emotion I can’t name. He holds my perusal, unblinking, as he continues to kiss me. He palms my ass, the width of his hand so big that he seems to completely cover one ass cheek. He squeezes my flesh and I moan. He digs his fingers into the cloth that covers the cleft between my butt cheeks. I stutter.

  He slides his clever fingers down to graze my clit through the fabric and tendrils of heat ladder up my spine. I cry out, the sound absorbed by his mouth.

  I dig my fingers into his hair; his massive body goes rigid. His cock leaps, the hardness stabbing into my already sensitized core. My thighs spasm and my sex clenches. A trembling sweeps up my legs, surges in my core. I tug and he follows me down.

  He presses me into the mattress, leans more of his weight on me.

  Finally. Finally! His solid bulk covers me, protecting me. Shielding me and turning me on at the same time. All of my nerve endings spark. My braincells seem to fire all at once. The sensations surround me, envelope me, cocoon me. A trembling builds up inside and flares out to my extremities.

  The climax grips me. Moisture seeps out from between my legs and I float in some in-between place. Everything is peaceful, blanketed. Real.

  He tears his mouth from mine, and I sense him watching me closely. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. There’s a soft touch to my forehead and I crack my eyelids open. His beautiful eyes watch me closely.

  I swallow, open my mouth, and he lowers his forehead to mine. "Shh."

  More tears threaten to leak and I gulp them back. What was that? Did I come? And from his kiss?! Jesus. Is that possible?

  "Did you like it?"

  I huff. "Understatement."

  He leans back as a smirk curls his lips. "Needed to hear it from you, babe."

  Jerk. I’d forgotten how full of himself Hawke could be. I shove at his shoulder. He doesn’t give an inch.

  "No need to sound so pleased with yourself." I glower.

  "It took your mind off your nightmare, didn't it?"

  I stiffen. Crane my neck to put distance between us. "Is that what this was, a means to distract me?"

  He exhales. "Of course." He loosens his hold, removes me from his lap, then rolls off of the bed.

  Every cell in my body tightens. Something hot stabs at my chest. "You…you don’t mean it."

  He angles his head, "I told you, doll, I don’t go in for cradle snatching."

  Tears threaten again. Damn it.

  What is it with me and these waterworks? I never cry. Never. It must be his strength, his presence, his immovable confidence in himself, his dominance. All of it reaches out to me, invites me to lean on him. To rely on him.

  I curl my fingers into fists.

  Somehow, between the time he’d gathered me close and held me tenderly as if I’d meant something, and that gut-wrenching orgasm that he’d claimed from me… I’d forgotten that the relationship between us is non-existent.

  He slaps his palms on his hips. "I have to admit though, that was surprisingly efficient, hmm?" He smiles smugly. "I should get an A for how I restored your balance, and took your mind away from the memories that clearly bother you."

  "You do get an A."

  "Oh?"

  "The A for asshole." I grab my pillow and throw it at him.

  It hits his massive chest and bounces off of him. He doesn’t blink. Hell. He tilts his chin, "My point exactly."

  I throw up my arms, "What is?"

  "You’re having a meltdown."

  "What’s it to you?"

  He frowns. Something passes across his face. Then he straightens. "Nothing. You had an accident, I brought you here, made sure you’re taken care of. Guess you are okay. No permanent damage, huh?"

  I grit my teeth. A burning sensation slices across my stomach. No, no. Don’t lose it. Don’t give him the satisfaction of showing how much he’s hurt you.

  "I mean other than the fact that these nightmares are obviously recurring. It’s not healthy, babe."

  "Not healthy?"

  He clicks his tongue. "This Daddy fixation you have."

  "Daddy fixation?" My jaw drops open. "How dare you?"

  "You have to admit, I am right." He drums his fingers on his sculpted chest. "It's why you're attracted to me."

  Hot damn, the man has the kind of physique that stops women, and men, in their tracks. Practically causes them to spontaneously combust as he passes.

  His massive body blocks out the sight of the room. He seems impossibly large, too damn present. The force of his personality seems to deepen, grow more intense. He seems to be projecting his dominance at me without trying. The fine hairs on my arms rise. My throat goes dry.

  Say something. Anything. Look away. Run. Nope. I can’t move. My body is rooted to this stupid bed—my legs too heavy, my arms weakening.

  He cracks his neck, drawing attention to those gorgeous tendons of his throat. He rolls his shoulders and I drag my gaze down that sculpted chest. His shirt clings to his frame, the sleeves rolled up to show off his sinewy forearms.

  I lick my lips, and he completes a slow perusal of my flushed features.

  Make no mistake, he’s preening for me, showing off that he can control me with a glance. A flick of those talented fingers and I’d go running to him. Hell, I’d chased him for what seems like half my life, and for what? To be insulted by him?

  "Sugar, you need to learn how to keep those X-rated thoughts to yourself."

  "What?" I blink, gnaw on my lower lip.

  He bends until he’s eyelevel with me. "You need to consult a psychologist for whatever memories are locked up in that tiny mind of yours."

  I blink. No, wait. "What the—? What did you—?" My brain cells seem tangled, until my mind empties of all though. He didn’t imply what I think he implied? Did he?

  He pats my cheek, then walks to the exit.

  "Hawke."

  He pauses at the doorway.

  "Go fuck yourself."

  He grips the frame. His knuckles are white. A surge of satisfaction grips me.

  Then he turns and glares at me.

  Oh, shit! I'd done it now.

  Every muscle in my body goes on alert. Every sense flares to life. Damn him, when he fixes me
with that stern look like he’s going to tell me off… I want to turn myself over, and bare my naked ass to him and ask him to—

  "Charley?"

  "What?"

  "That’s exactly what I intend to do."

  6

  Few days later

  Hawke

  Somebody, kill me!

  I stare into the depths of my whiskey glass. The amber sparks glare up at me, just like the golden flickers that had leaped from her eyes, right before her features had collapsed. Then she’d drawn herself up, and told me to leave. I don’t blame her. I had done my best to piss her off, and clearly, I had succeeded spectacularly. The hurt had bled from her and filled the space between us. And I couldn’t leave her like that. I’d hit out at her, said the first thing that had come to mind.

  I grip the glass so tightly that my knuckles hurt. Seeing her hurt, and lying there at the site of the accident had shaken my world.

  I’d never felt that helpless and that angry. Had wanted to sweep her away, lock her up and hide her, and hold her captive and have my way with her. And then what? Would I mate her? No…no way. She is out of my league.

  She was hurt in the past; she needs someone who will be gentle with her. Someone who'll make tender love to her. I grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurts. Someone...who isn't me.

  I’ve seen too much, indulged in every possible vice I could, marked with the sins of my past, which ensures there can be no future for me.

  No family, No one to call my own.

  None except the Fae Corps. And her... I have her.

  She’d flounced into my life and swept away my every single thought. She’d taken my breath away, occupied my mind. She’d crawled under my skin. She’d lit up parts of me I’d thought had been long buried, that had died along with the rest of my family. She’d reminded me that I am human enough to want more than the corner I’d backed myself into.

  The glass breaks and alcohol spills onto the bar counter. The shard embeds in my skin and pain flickers at my nerve endings. I hold up my fingers, watching the blood drip down my wrist. I deserve it. I shouldn’t obsess about something I can’t have. Won’t waste any more time wanting her. I need to walk away from her—after I ensure that she is safe.