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

by Laxmi Hariharan

  "Hawke," he whines.

  "I got you," I cackle, then haul myself up onto the branch adjacent to him, then up higher. The branch bends. My heart begins to race. I curve my arms around the tree. It stabilizes. Relief grips my muscles. I swing my legs up, hook them across the slender branch, then hang down. "I’m first."

  He frowns, "No, I was."

  I set my lips. "I beat you."

  His cheeks redden. "I got here before you."

  "You lost your perch."

  His forehead crinkles. "You cheated."

  "I won fair and square."

  He pouts, glances at the branch I am hanging from. His eyes gleam. He leans up, shoves at the limb. It sways and my legs slide down. I hold on tighter. "Now hold on, Ossie—"

  "Aha." He grins, "I knew you were scared." He reaches up, shoves at the tree, and I slide down further. Adrenaline laces my blood. I scramble up, grab hold of the branch, miss. He rises up, grabs the branch I am on with both hands, shakes it. I hold on. "Stop it."

  "You stop it." He reaches up again.

  A scream sounds from below.

  I freeze.

  He pauses, "What was that?"

  I peer past his shoulder, blink. Where my mother had stood earlier, a man stands. He’s tall, head tipped back, dark eyes set in an expressionless face. I shiver.

  Black hair frames his face. He’s wearing a dark shirt, dark pants. He raises his arm. There’s a weapon… An axe?

  He thrusts it up.

  Even at this distance, I notice the scarlet that stains the blade. He holds up his other hand and something swings from his grasp. A ball… No… His fingers grip some kind of dark strands… Hair? Is that hair? I track it down to a face… Familiar features. My guts churn and my stomach heaves. The food I had eaten comes rushing up and erupts from my throat.

  "Yuck." Oswald flattens himself to the tree. My vomit decorates his chest. "The hell is wrong with you, Hawke?"

  I stare past him.

  "What…what is it?" He frowns.

  I can’t speak. My stomach twists and bile lingers on my tongue. I stare, and he turns, follows my gaze to where the man swings my mother’s decapitated head aside.

  "No!" I scream… At least I open my mouth to do so, but all the comes up is an incoherent noise.

  Oswald opens his mouth, loses his balance. "Help—" he screams.

  I reach for him; my fingertips graze his shoulder as he tumbles down—hits a branch, which breaks, hits the next, bounces off of it, slams into the tree trunk, then hurtles face down toward the man who plucks him from the air by his throat.

  I draw in a breath, my muscles bunch, and my grip slides on my branch. I hold on.

  The man shifts his grips, holds Oswald by his hair, and shakes his unconscious body. He raises his axe, bringing it down in a curve. Oswald's body falls to the ground. Minus his head. The man grins. My legs buckle under me. No, no, no, I am not falling. I am not giving in. I dig my fingertips into the branch, hold on. He tosses away my cousin’s head.

  "Hello, son." He grins.

  Bile sears my throat, "I am not your son." I clamp my lips together. I will not be sick, not in front of his monster.

  "Says who?" He lifts the axe; blood drips from the blade, making a scarlet arc in the air.

  "Says..." my mother? She is dead. So is my best friend. I've never known my father.

  It can't be true. It can't be this...horrible creature. I peer at his face, trying to make out his features. Could it?

  "No," I shake my head. "You're not..." my father. I cannot say the words aloud. To do so would be to acknowledge the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It is him. He came for me. I'd hoped for the day when my missing parent would return to claim me... And he had. Just not in the way I'd expected it to be.

  "Come down, runt." His eyes gleam.

  "No."

  "You’re making this more difficult on yourself. Come down now and you can come home with me and be treated like a prince. Wait, and it will be my pleasure to hand you over to my men and let them do what they will."

  No—don’t trust him. This monster just killed my mother and my cousin without a second thought. He’s lying. He’s going to kill me too. My palms sweat, slide off of the tree. I scream, fall on the branch below. Pain grips me, my pulse rates ratchets up, and adrenaline laces my blood. I wrap my arms and legs around the bough, cling to the rough scaly bark.

  "You leave me no choice, my child." He raises his axe, brings it down on the tree. The vibrations travel up, envelop me. I cling to the tree. I will not give in. Will not. If I am going to die— No, I cannot. I must avenge Mama’s death. I must. I set my jaw, hold onto the tree. My knees knock against the wood with every blow and blood runs down my calves. Pain throbs at my nerve-endings. I hold on.

  The tree trunk creaks. Don’t look down, don’t. I glare at him as he pulls his axe from the tree, then brings it down again and again. The steel connects with the trunk, and there’s a screeching sound. The tree tilts and my hold slips. I careen through empty air. Hit a branch. My shoulder screams; my leg twists under me. Pain rips up my spine. I grit my teeth, refuse to let any sound escape. Fold my arms close to my sides, prepared to roll. The ground comes up to meet me.

  25

  "Fuck beautiful... I am brilliant... And I don't need a man to tell me that."

  -From Charley's secret diary

  Charley

  I come awake with a start. I’m not sure what disturbed me. I survey the shadowy room. Moonlight creeps past the open window. After I’d left the bedroom last evening, I’d vowed not to return there.

  I’d traversed the empty house, found the second room tucked away on the other side of the living room. It is half the size of the main bedroom. There is a single bed, a small table next to it. But it has an ensuite bathroom. Hallelujah.

  I’d walked in, had a shower. Finding a pair of shorts and a T-shirt— both too large for me, but at least they were clean— in the closet in the room, I’d pulled them on. My stomach had been growling by then and I’d proceeded to the kitchen.

  Of course, there had been no food, but I’d found packets of dried noodles, had made enough for two people. I’d poured the steaming noodles into two bowls, dug into my own. Tasteless, but it had been hot. I’d washed out my bowl, covered the other one and left it on the small kitchen table. Then I’d gone to bed.

  The low groan reaches me again. I jackknife up in bed. Who could it be? Hawke? Is it him? My bare feet hit the floor.

  The slight chill in the night air envelops me. I pad to the door, yank it open and listen. Nothing. A slight wind rustles the leaves on the trees outside. It fades away. There’s silence for a beat, then the sound of a groan splits the space. My heart begins to race. Hawke. It’s him. I quicken my steps and reach his room, push the door open. The big guy is sprawled on the bed, the sheets tangled in between his thighs. His chest is bare, sweat glistening on the planes.

  He throws an arm over his eyes and his biceps bulge. He bends his leg at the knee, and that’s when I realize he isn’t wearing any pants. His massive thigh muscles ripple. The smattering of hair across the corded layers calls to me. My fingers tingle. My toes curl. He throws down his hand, grips the sheet at his side. His features are contorted and sweat sheens his forehead.

  "No, don’t. Don’t hurt me. Let me go." He clutches his neck. "Please." His voice is choked. Something hot stabs behind my eyes. My heart twists. Only when my knees hit the bed, do I realize that I have crossed the room to him.

  "Hawke?" My voice trembles. Damn it. I clear my throat. "Hawke, wake up."

  He thrashes his head from side to side, his fingers squeezing his own throat. His cheeks are too pale; his chest rises and falls rapidly. He gnashes his teeth, and damn it, I can’t bear it. I place a knee on the bed, grab his shoulders. "Hawke, WAKE UP!"

  He twists his torso and I pull back.

  "I don’t want to die." The tendons of his throat bunch; the hollows under his cheekbones stand out in relief.
/>
  Something inside of me shatters. I lean across and slap him.

  His eyes fly open as his chest heaves. He stares at me, his eyes sightless. The amber has drained out, leaving pupils so dark, they seem to fill the whites of his eyes.

  "H…Hawke?"

  A snarl rips from him. The hair on the nape of my neck tingles. He springs forward.

  "No." I pull back, but I’m too late. His big body collides with mine. The breath rushes out of me. The world tilts. The next second, I am under him and the weight of his body holds me down. Too much. He’s too heavy. His corded thighs force my legs apart. His thick erection collides with my center. My throat goes dry. Fear curdles my insides, "Hawke, don’t do this."

  A guttural cry pours from him. His lips twist. He lowers his head; the imprint of my fingers stands out against his left cheekbone.

  My gut lurches. "Stop." I shove at his shoulders and his features contort. His pupils are sightless. Too dark. I stare into them, see my fright reflected in their depths. Anger balloons in my chest. I am not helpless. I am not. And this is Hawke. He will not harm me…

  His nostrils flare. He draws in a breath and his muscles tense. His chest seems to expand and expand some more. He looms above me, his bulk blocking the sight of everything else in the room behind him. His features harden; he seems the same…yet he’s not.

  "Hawke."

  His jaw hardens. Those sightless eyes seem to darken further. All of the pores on my skin pop. The intent of his focus grips me. My nerve endings scream and all of my senses home in on him.

  "Let me the fuck go." I snarl, then begin to struggle in earnest. I twist my torso, raise my arm. He grabs it. I bring up the other and he swoops down, captures it. He yanks both of my hands up, cuffing my wrists with his own.

  I gasp, "No."

  A growl rips from him. The tendons on his neck flex. He peels back his lips and his canines elongate.

  "Don’t do it."

  He tosses his head; those sightless eyes narrow. His intention vibrates from his big body in waves.

  "No, Hawke. Not like this." Fat tears roll down my cheeks.

  He tilts his head. The movement is animalistic, and yet… I am sure he heard me. Somewhere inside there, the Hawke I know, the larger-than-life beautiful protector of mine is there. He has to be.

  I tip up my chin. "Hawke."

  His lips contort, and I know then I’ve lost contact with that sliver of humanity that exists in him.

  "Please," I force the word through a dry mouth.

  He growls, shoves his hand between us. He grabs the waist band of my shorts and yanks. The cloth rips. The sound shimmies up my spine. I open my mouth to scream. That’s when he drops his head, shoves his tongue between my lips. The kiss—if you can call it that— is not gentle. He devours me. Gone, is all trace of the edge of kindness I had sensed earlier… This…this is pure carnal passion. Something primal inside of him that has been let loose, by the nightmare? Maybe. Maybe it has always been there, coiled under the mask he presents to the civilized world, ready to strike.

  The events of the last few days must have triggered the nightmare, which had uncorked the beast—the monster I’ve always sensed below the surface. I’d pushed, him, prodded him… He hadn’t broken. He’d walked away from me. But now…this… When all of the barriers he’d put up had been ripped away…

  This primeval brute drinks from me, thrusts his tongue down my throat, sinks his teeth into my lower lip, so I can taste the metallic tang of my own blood… This is pure, unadulterated Hawke…

  And he scares me. He hurts me. He…he turns me on. My thighs spasm; my pussy clenches. A snarl vibrates up his massive chest, and my breasts swell. My nipples pebble.

  He cups my melting pussy, squeezes the burning flesh, and a trembling sweeps up my legs.

  He crams a thick finger inside my channel. My body bucks. A scream clambers up my throat. He swallows it. He slides another finger, then a third. He moves them in and out of me, curls his fingers inside of me, and the climax grips me. It screeches up my spine, flashes behind my eyes. Moisture flows out to meet his intrusion, my back arches, and the orgasm swoops up my spine. It carries me higher and higher, then fades. I pant, draw in a breath—his breath. For he’s still kissing me. His mouth closes on mine; his tongue darts in and out, following the example set by his fingers. My body sags and my limbs tingle. My weight sinks into the bed. He pulls out his fingers and my pussy clenches, searching…searching…for more. The yawning emptiness inside of me tugs at my womb, crawls in on itself then vibrates out, searching…searching. He hooks a thick arm under one thigh, raises my leg up and to the side. He releases my hands, only to squeeze my hip. I shiver; everything within me is tuned into him. It shouldn’t happen this way, not when he isn’t aware of what he is doing… Is he?

  I moan deep in my throat and his kiss softens. He sucks on my tongue, then nibbles on my lips. Goosebumps pop on my skin. I thrust my pelvis up, wanting yearning… He settles his body closer; his turgid dick teases my inner thigh. A whine dribbles from my lips, lost against the hard insistence of his kiss.

  He releases my hip; I sense him grab his cock and line it up with my opening.

  He kicks his hips forward and impales me. Pain flashes up my spine.

  I forget to breathe.

  Too much, too full. His dick throbs inside of me, his large body covering me. The weight of him presses me down, holds me immobile.

  I should do something, should protest, shove at him…tell him he isn’t aware of what he is doing… I wind an arm around his broad shoulder. His muscles undulate under my touch, tension vibrates off of him, the hardness of his chest planes bite into the soft skin of my breasts, and yet… I can’t bring myself to push him away. Sweat trickles down his temple, plops onto my neck. My core throbs, my pussy widens, accommodates his girth. His big body trembles.

  He tears his mouth from mine, plants an elbow next to my face and blinks.

  "Charley?"

  26

  Hawke

  Her face is ashen, her lips swollen, a trickle of sweat winds its way down the valley between her breasts.

  "Hawke?"

  "The hell is happening?"

  "You…you had a nightmare."

  My cock extends; warmth encloses my shaft. The scent of her envelops me; my groin tightens in that familiar movement that indicates— I glance down, and freeze. "Charley, the fuck?"

  "Yeah." She swallows.

  I snap my gaze to her face. "How the fuck did this happen?"

  "I walked in to find you were fighting something—someone…in your sleep." Her throat moves. "You were…trying to throttle yourself. I tried to stop you."

  I squeeze my eyes shut. "I overpowered you?"

  I sense her nod.

  "Did I… Did I…?" I clear the throat, "Did I force you, Char?"

  Silence. A beat. Another.

  I snap my eyelids open. Her features are ashen. She opens her mouth, then shuts it.

  Fuck this. I did it. I hurt her. I should have taken myself away from this house, put enough distance between us so that she wouldn’t have been in danger from me.

  "Stop it." Her voice cracks.

  "I fucking coerced you, took you against your…" She clamps her pussy round my dick, and a growl rumbles up.

  "Does it look like that?"

  "It doesn’t matter what it seems like. I did you wrong."

  I start to push away and she scissors her legs around me. "Don’t you dare."

  I thrust out my chest; she tips up her chin.

  "You finish what you started. Do you hear me?"

  I glare at her. Her chin quivers.

  "You may have taken me by surprise, but I wanted it. My…" She blinks, "My body wanted this. I am fucking aroused and you’d better put me out of my—"

  I surge forward and she gasps. I tilt my hips, shove a hand behind her butt and squeeze her fleshy curves.

  She whines, "Hawke."

  "Never tell me what to do."

/>   She gasps.

  "You feel me, Char?"

  She nods.

  "Say it."

  "I…I..."

  I dig my knees into the bed, propel my hips forward. Her pussy expands, gives way. I sink in further, and she yells.

  I scowl at her, "Complete your sentence."

  "I…I feel you, okay?" She huffs.

  "Good."

  This isn’t what I wanted; it isn’t how it should be. One moment I had been in the nightmare, the next I had woken up inside of her… My chest hurts. Every part of me wants this. More than anything. To take her, to make it good for her. I lower my head until our noses bump. "I’m going to ensure that you never forget our first time."

  She wraps her other arm about my shoulders, "Let me be the judge of that."

  "Oh?"

  Her eyes twinkle.

  I pull back, until the head of my dick stays poised at the opening of her lower lips. Her breathing grows shallow.

  "Charley?"

  "Hmm?" Her eyelids flutter.

  "Look at me."

  "What?"

  "Eyes on me."

  She raises her head; her pupils dilate. "Ah!"

  "Exactly."

  I curl my lips, sink my elbow into the bed for purchase. Then hook my arm under her splayed leg, and pull it up. The space between her thighs widens. Her lower lips part. I kick forward, sink the throbbing head of my cock inside of her.

  She groans, buries her fingertips into my back.

  "That’s it, hold on, babe."

  I slide my hand behind her. Drag her slickness from her cunt into the valley between her ass cheeks. I sink my thumb into her puckered back hole and she winces.

  Her pussy clenches; my dick instantly swells.

  She huffs, and I push forward, another centimeter, then one more.

  Her body bucks and she thrusts her chest up. I lower my head, bite down on the nipple outlined against her shirt.