Summer Camp Captive

by Alexa Riley

  He glances down at himself, distaste evident in his partially visible features. “Who else could I possibly be?” His mountain-like shoulders roll back in a shrug. “Unless the Butcher has a brother.”

  My mouth drops open. But I don’t get the chance to acknowledge the possibility that I share a sense of humor with the giant. He uses my stupor as an opportunity to knock the knife out of my hand, and I’m carried in his arms toward the door. “They’ll track me here,” I grit out, struggling to get free. “You’ll get caught.”

  “They haven’t found me yet.”

  “I’ll escape. I’ll lead them back here.”

  “No.”

  “No to which part?”

  He kicks the door open. “Both.”

  I hang on to the doorframe as we pass through, but it’s useless. He’s got the strength of forty regular-sized men. A puny vegetarian who has been existing on Cup O’ Noodles half her life doesn’t stand a chance. The sudden inundation of helplessness makes me angry. So angry. Too many times in my life I’ve been made to feel trapped this way and I thought I’d outrun it. Dammit. In a flash of despair and rage, I lash out and catch him across the face with a backhand.

  Time slows down along with his footsteps, until we’ve come to a stop. I should be screaming for mercy about now, but my pride won’t let me. He’s going to kill me whether I apologize or not. Giant, raspy-voiced men who star in horror stories don’t bring women to cabins in the middle of nowhere unless murder is on the menu. “Why me? Why did you choose me?” I let my head tip back and rest on his stupid, watermelon-sized bicep. “What is it about me that…”

  He has been staring straight forward since I slapped him, and that doesn’t change now. “That what?”

  “What is it about me that makes people want to take away my…will? My choices? I don’t get it. I keep to myself. If I concentrate hard, I can be nice to people. Even the idiots. Why me?” I swipe a hand across my nose and revel in my pity party. Haven’t I earned the right? “This sucks.”

  A tingling sensation along my cheek tells me he’s watching me. “Who takes away your will?”

  “Besides you?”

  He bows his head. “Yes.”

  If I’m going to my death tonight, it won’t hurt to set my demons free. I’ve never spoken to anyone about my mother and the torture I’ve suffered at her hands. In an unexpected turn of events, I’m confiding in my kidnapper, but now isn’t the time to be choosy. “My mom took back custody from my foster parents when I was fifteen. She fought them so hard that I thought…I thought she really wanted me this time. She promised she wasn’t doing hard drugs anymore. Or drinking.” I swallow a handful of broken glass. “But she only wanted me to work. To support her and the habit. And when that wasn’t enough, she sold me to the highest bidder.”

  His arms are shaking underneath me, nostrils flaring, the veins in his neck turning thick and bulging. “What does that mean?”

  “I…what’s your real name? I should know your name if I’m going to tell you such a personal story.”

  “Carver.”

  “You’re kidding, right? The Butcher’s real name is Carver?”

  His sigh is like a gust of wind, blowing some of the black hair off his forehead. For the first time, I get a full—but brief—glimpse of his face, and my heart turns heavy, beating like it has been dropped into a jar of honey. Dirt patches decorate his face, along with heavy bristle. But his eyes…they’re extraordinary. A kind of green that doesn’t exist in the forest. They’re so full of soul and sadness, I know for certain that despite his colossal size, he’s most definitely a man. One with feelings. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean he’s not a murderer. “It’s not a coincidence. The previous owner of your camp sold me this cabin. We met once to transfer the deed.” His eyes roam over me with something close to yearning. “He started calling me the Butcher as a joke.”

  “Are the stories true?”

  “You already think they are.”

  “Well, yeah.” I lick my lips. “I hate to tell you this, but you make a terrible first impression.”

  He grunts and sets me down gently on something soft. Planting on my hands on a flannel-covered mattress, I take in my surroundings. His bed could fit a football team. It’s so huge, it takes up most of the small cabin, although there’s a card table and a hearth set up nearby. “Finish telling me about your mother,” he instructs, beginning to pace, his hands curling into fists. “I can’t wait much longer.”

  Unable to ignore the long, wide ridge behind his fly, I scoot back on the bed. “Can’t wait much longer for what?”

  “That pussy.” He rakes his fingers down his belly, taking two handfuls of his erection. And there’s still some left over. “It’s taunting me.”

  “Not on purpose.” I swallow hard. “Out of curiosity, what’s holding you back? We both know I don’t stand a chance.”

  “That’s what’s—” He breaks off with a broken growl, cutting a look toward the now-closed door. “That’s what’s stopping me. I didn’t like it when we were outside and you started to look sad.”

  My pulse starts going a million miles an hour, my instincts shouting at me to run. “I s-see. You wanted me to keep struggling?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Conflict crowds his features. “You’re going to look sad or scared when I’m fucking your little body no matter what I do. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  More pacing, the floorboards kicking up a groaning protest. “Finish telling me about your mother.”

  “I…” Shaking off my confusion, I try and remember where I left off. “Um. My mother. She sold me to a man in our neighborhood who would arrange…dates of a certain kind…between men and women and then take a big cut of the money.”

  “A pimp,” he snarls.

  “If you want to get technical, yeah.” My mind flips through a series of images. My mother’s indifferent expression. My rush to pack. The bus terminal. “That was the final straw for me. I took off that night.”

  A dangerous light flares in his eyes. “No one touched you?”

  “No.” The light in his gaze flickers, and I get the feeling I just rescued him from insanity. “But the man who owns me now…he hasn’t stopped looking. He’s a dangerous man and he took my leaving as a personal insult.”

  Very slowly, Carver plants his ham hock fists on the bed, weighing the end of it down beneath his crazy bulk. “He does not own you, Lainey.” His bellow rattles my teeth. “I will kill him for putting a claim on what’s mine.”

  In that moment—with his vow hanging in the air—a few things occur to me. One, Carver has been watching me long enough to know my name, because I certainly didn’t tell him. Two, if he doesn’t even like to see me sad…I’m not so sure anymore that I’ll meet my doom tonight. Three, whether or not he’s planning on playing Grim Reaper, he’s definitely not keen to let me go. And that is more than enough to make me want to lunge for the exit.

  “I don’t want to take away your will like they did. I don’t. You’re just a sweet, little princess,” he says, sounding tortured. Chest heaving, he wraps a hand around my ankle and yanks, leaving me flat on my back in front of him, panting up at the ceiling. “But I can’t live a minute longer without knowing what it’s like to be inside your cunt.” He licks his lips and starts to unzip his pants with blunt, hungry fingers. “Need to fuck it and feel it squeeze me all over. Taunting. It’s taunting me.”

  “If you don’t want to take away my will,” I say in a rush. “G-give it back to me.”

  He reaches into his jeans and drags out a heavy, massive, thickly veined arousal. I almost scream bloody murder at the sight of it. “How?” he grits out.

  I remember how he reacted when I smacked him, going stock still instead of striking me back. More than that, I recall him being troubled over making me sad, I think. He wants to please me and doesn’t know how. That possibility makes me feel hot
and achy, my inner thighs growing sensitive, concentrated in tingling waves at the center. I’ve stayed far away from the opposite sex because I feared being overpowered and not given a voice. What if…of all people…my kidnapper is the one who actually lets me be in charge?

  Acting on instinct, I move onto my knees and grab the front of his shirt. Hard. His breath holds and he watches me from beneath hooded eyelids, anticipation radiating off of him in waves. I was right. “Don’t you dare put that big, dirty thing inside me until you’ve earned it.”

  His exhale shudders out, his jaw going slack. “How, princess?”

  Being that I have zero sexual experience to draw from, I only manage to sound semi-confident when I say, “I-I think you know.”

  A groan rips out of him. “Licking. Licking it.”

  I only have a split second to prepare before I’m tumbled onto my back, the shorts being torn from my body.

  Chapter Four

  Carver

  Something clicked into place when I saw this girl. Watching her dive into the water from beyond the trees, an obsession was formed that will never be matched. It can grow deeper, though. That much was just proven. When her tiny hand gripped the front of my shirt, I knew why the beast inside me went wild at the very sight of her—all lithe and serious and strong-willed and mine.

  It wants to be tamed. Domesticated. I want that.

  The animal inside me must have recognized his mate. His match.

  Lainey. My Lainey.

  So small and fierce on the mattress, her hips wiggling around as I rip the shorts free of her beautiful body, revealing delicate hipbones and tight pink panties. Good Lord. I could crush her physically, but she has the power to crush my very soul with a frown, a pout. God help me if she cries.

  I release an anguished sound at the very prospect, and it draws Lainey’s attention. She doesn’t even flinch when she looks at my hideous face. No, she looks curious—maybe even surprised—more than anything. What does she see, if not my scars and monstrous features? “You may take off my panties now, Carver.”

  Lust is a pitiful term for the wave of starvation that swamps me. I’m a giant freak that barely fits inside his own home, and this little girl has full control of me. Whether she realizes it or not, she could make me kneel at her feet with a flick of her pinkie. I’ve never understood why God cursed me with this body that inspires terror, but I think I’m beginning to understand. I was equipped with everything I need to serve and protect my princess.

  My hands are dirty and unfit to touch her, but I can’t stop them from clutching her underpants and tugging them down, revealing a sweet, innocent pussy, covered in just a dusting of fair hair. “It’s unclaimed.” I toss away the pink panties and shove her thighs apart to study the gift I’ve been blessed with. Smooth and dewy, like a sliced peach. My fucking mouth is watering at the sight of it. “It looks like it’s never even taken a finger.”

  Pink climbs her neck. “It hasn’t.”

  “You are…embarrassed by this?” My hands travel down the insides of her legs, pressing them wide on the mattress, my tongue growing desperate for a taste. “If my life’s suffering meant I’d be the first man to pump his cock into that good girl hole, consider me cured of my bitterness. I’m grateful.” I run a thumb down the split of her sex, enjoying her gasp. “I’m a filthy monster coming to you with an ugly, leaking cock, asking to live between your thighs for the rest of his life. Demanding it. If anyone is embarrassed, it should be me.”

  I watch in awe as Lainey sits up, peeling off her tank top. My senses are still reeling from the sight of her sexy tits when she…Jesus, is she really touching my face? I melt into her hand and moan, every cell in my body racing toward the unexpected point of contact. She’s touching me without recoiling. I never would have expected that in my most unrealistic dreams.

  Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling tight. Tighter. “Did you forget what you were supposed to be doing, Carver?”

  Pleasure wracks me at the sound of her saying my name in that peeved tone of voice. The tingle of discomfort along my scalp is better than anything I’ve ever experienced, because she’s the one inflicting it. I can’t believe this incredible creature is upset because I’m taking too long to lick her pussy. Have I died and gone to heaven? “No, princess. I didn’t forget.”

  She winds her fists in my hair. “What has you so distracted?”

  “Your breasts.” I stare down at those pink, puckered buds and heave a shuddering groan. God, I need her. I need her so bad. “Your…size. So small. I just want to do this without hurting you.”

  “You can’t hurt me with your tongue.”

  “Oh no? It’s wider than your cunt.” I press my thumb to her entrance, tucking just the top inside. Too tight. “Yeah, my tongue is going to want deep inside here. It’s going to push your lips apart to get to the good stuff. Might as well be fucking you.”

  Not for the first time, her gaze falls to my heavy balls, the shaft that juts out from their center like a tree branch, complete with sap dripping from the tip. Having her stare at me there sets off a thunder crack of arousal in my belly, and my hand wraps around the engorged flesh, jerking it off furiously. “I think you’re having a hard time listening,” she says in a rush. “I told you to earn it.”

  “Yes. I will,” I breathe, falling forward and landing on my left elbow. The bed almost upends itself under my weight, but my mouth is only inches from that place between her thighs, the place I’m going to spend my life satisfying any way I can—and I can’t think past the roaring of my heart. A sense of purpose. “It looks…wet. What made it that way?”

  “I-I…don’t know. I think—”

  I surge forward and take a long lap at her flesh, my mind exploding with light and rightness. As I gather the dew left behind on my lips, my body shudders head to toe over the perfect taste and scent of my mate. “Tell me, please. What made you damp here? I need more.”

  Her hips squirm beneath me, and I start to pin them with a forearm, until she stops me with a vicious tug of my hair. “You’re so big and I’m so…not. Having you obey commands from me is kind of amazing. All that power given to me…” Her lower half writhes on the mattress. “I think it’s what m-made me like this.”

  Yes. Is it ironic that Lainey wants me at her beck and call and yet I’ve never felt like more of a man? What is a man if he can’t provide for his woman? Providing for Lainey means letting her order me around. My cock sags lower, planting on the mattress beneath. My balls fill with ample seed to plant inside her fertile body. “Consider me your servant,” I rasp, parting her pussy with the tip of my tongue and rubbing, rubbing her tiny source of pleasure. “Does the princess like this?”

  “Oh. Yes.” The surprise in her voice has my dick stretching to its full length. I’m the first one to gratify this pussy. She doesn’t even know what the fuck it’s supposed to feel like. “Carver. Don’t stop.”

  Carefully as possible, so as not to harm her, I place the V of my middle and index finger over her cunt, pressing down to expose the delicious pink path they’ve been hiding. Moisture glistens on smooth flesh, her swollen nub peeking out shyly for my attention. “I will guard you with my life.” I circle her clit with my tongue, flattening my tongue on it and moving side to side, her whimpers echoing in my head. “I will protect your little pussy from predators and keep it only for myself. No one will dare look at it, or my face will be the last thing they see. You’re mine. You are mine forever. Forever.”

  Unable to stop myself any longer, I slide my tongue to her snug hole and shove it deep, pain colliding with need in my chest when she screams, jerking hard on the ends of my hair. “Carver, too much. It’s too much.”

  I keep my thumb strumming on her clit, praying to God not to keep her in pain for long. Her hands alternately bat at my head and pull me close, her open thighs squirming on either side of me. Dammit, I can’t tell if she’s feeling good or bad. And her taste is drowning me, making me lose any sense of reality. It’s
so pure and sweet. I’m seeing nothing but her flesh, hearing nothing but my own grunts and growls. My hips begin to hump the bed, rocking it, banging it against the wall. The action also causes Lainey’s pussy to dip down and grind up into my tongue, over and over again. Is she moaning?

  Yes. God has answered my prayer and helped Lainey’s body adjust. Her pink bud is swollen and tucked between my lips where I suckle it, her arousal dripping from my chin. Fuck her. Fuck her and claim her. Now.

  I rise up over her and fist my dick, prepared to feed every raw, ugly inch of it into her virgin cunt. There’s a whisper of warning in the back of my head, but it’s too low to hear over the roar of my inner beast, demanding I take what’s mine before another male sneaks in and does it first. Unrealistic, yes, considering I would snap their neck for even looking at Lainey, but tell that to my boiling blood, my unholy cockstand for one girl. This girl.

  “Carver—” Eyes wide with fear, she slaps at my shoulders. “No, wait.”

  My sweat drips down onto the pillow above her head. “Can’t. I can’t.”

  She grips the sides of my head, tugging me down. “Kiss me,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “Just kiss me, please?”

  Those words cut through the pandemonium in my head like butter to a hot know. Silence reigns. Her sweet fingers tunnel in my hair and urge me close, closer, until I’m lying in the cradle of her body, still conscious enough of our size difference to keep most of my weight on my left elbow. But that prop almost gives out when our lips meet and her sweet, pliant mouth opens beneath mine, allowing my tongue to sweep inside. Bliss. Complete and total bliss I never thought I’d experience in my life.

  My disbelief continues when she slides her hands up beneath my shirt, tracing my scars with her fingertips and making a sad, mewling noise. Keep her from that horror. Distract her. She doesn’t like being reminded I’m a freak. Who would?

  “I’m grateful just being allowed to pleasure your body…I never thought you’d let me near your perfect mouth with this face.”