by Lexie Ray
Her pants and panties were hurled across the room with the same disregard and Mads tugged her legs wide. Willow’s mind scattered as Mads slid up her, the strong muscles of his chest gliding along the tender skin of her inner thighs. The long trail of wet kisses he left along her body was disrupted by her bra. He yanked the material aside like it had personally offended him and attacked her breast as if he was starving for it.
“I’m still mad at you,” she gasped as his hand found its way between her legs.
Mads didn’t remove his flesh from her mouth as he responded, “As you should be.”
Her hands threaded into his hair, holding him in place as he arched against him. The heels of her feet pressed against the firm mound of his ass, relishing the resistance as she ground up against him. His answering chuckle rolled through her body and he pushed his fingers deeper as a counter strike.
“We are going to have a long conversation,” she insisted as he began to kiss her way up her throat.
“That would be wise.”
The tip of his cock pressed against her opening. She arched and bucked, trying to draw him in by will alone before she remembered.
“I don’t suppose you thought to bring any protection?”
Mads paused, looking at her for a moment as if the words didn’t combine to make any kind of sense. When it all fell into place, he released a long groan and slumped his head into the crook of her shoulder.
“Of course I did not bring any,” he mumbled. Lifting his head, he smiled and kissed her shoulder. “You were not with me. What possible use would I have for it?”
“Well played, Mads,” she laughed as she brushed her hand over the hair of his chest. The light tickle of the coarse hair crossing her palm was just as enjoyable as she had always imagined. She slipped her hand lower, searching for his crotch. “I’m sure there are a few other things we can do. You know, before we get back to arguing.”
His smile turned wicked as he settled his hands onto her hips. “I most humbly agree.”
Willow squealed as, in one smooth movement, Mads hurled her further up the bed. Her head dangled off the edge of her head as she laughed wildly and scrambled for purchase. Before she could sit up, Mads flung her legs wide and delved down. He lapped hungrily at her folds, sucking sharply, curling his tongue and lathering her clit. Her own moans were lost under the sounds of his own delight.
For all the times a man had done this for her in the past, not one of them could begin to match the sheer elation Mads gave to the task. He devoted himself, his hands curling around Willow’s thighs to drag her closer, his hums of satisfaction vibrating directly into her most delicate areas. The tip of his tongue delved deeper and she arched her back in response, unable to keep her hands from clawing along his back.
The slight sting of pain didn’t deter him. Instead, with a growl deep in his throat, he tightened his grip and lifted the lower half of her body off of the bed. The tempo of his rhythm increased, the flat of his tongue lapping at her in long strokes before he curled the tip around her clit in maddening circles.
Fireworks popped under her skin, crackling, adding to the fire and pressure building up within her. Twisting her hands into his hair, she ground herself shamelessly against his face. He welcomed the motion, incorporating it into the flow he had created. Even though each of her muscles quaked and shivered, tensing into stone with the promise of release, Willow’s climax still caught her off guard. Her scream was echoing within her ears before she realized that the sound had some from her. Her heart hammered, her muscles twitched, and the sound of crashing waves rolled within her head as she slowly edged her way back into her own skin.
When she was finally able to open her eyes again, the world was upside down. Confusion crackled through her afterglow until she remembered that there wasn’t any bed under her head. She shuffled, trying to find a more comfortable angle. Mads helped her move but didn’t stop sucking wet kisses along her hipbone. Every so often he would drag his teeth over the skin. She hummed and carded her fingers through his hair.
She licked her lips and hummed. “You are really good at that.”
“Thank you,” he smiled against her skin, his shoulders shaking with soft laughter.
Pillowing her head on one hand she smiled down at him with hooded eyes. “Do you want some help with your own,” she twirled one hand in the air. “Issue?”
“Issue.” He smiled brightly, the skin around his eyes crackling with mirth.
“Tension?” she offered.
He spared the time to bestow a long, leisurely kiss against the joint of her thigh and rested his check against her with a sigh.
“I do not think I ever want to move again.”
Willow placed a hand over her eyes as she chuckled. “Never again, huh?”
“Somewhat doable,” he assured her as he let his fingers play within the moisture that lingered on her folds. “The room service here is quite inclusive. Whatever we need can be obtained without ever setting a foot beyond the door. We can stay in bed as they clean the bathroom, remain in the shower as they change the sheets, and spend the rest of our time simply enjoying each other. It would be a glorious way to spend a few months, at least.”
Shaking her head, she curled her fingers around the shell of his ear. “You almost sound serious.”
Finally, he lifted his head and sought out her eyes. “I am.”
“Really.”
“Yes,” he said, adding after a loaded pause, “After I finish what I came here for.”
She pushed up onto her elbows. “And what is that exactly?”
“There is no need for you to know that.”
“Mads—”
“If I commit any kind of criminal activity, it would serve you well to have plausible deniability.”
All of her complaints refused to come out of her throat as Mads began to climb up her body. He punctuated each half inch with a kiss and a sharp nip. By the time he reached her collarbone, there was too little left of Willow’s functioning brain to remember what she was mad about. His cock was a heavy, hot, leaden weight against her thigh as he settled down onto her.
“You’re trying to distract me. Don’t think that I don’t know that.”
“You are attempting to distract me,” Mads countered as his hands washed over her skin with reverence. “You are very distracting.”
The murmured words were spoken into her neck as he slowly worked his way to her mouth. Before she could say anything in response, he captured her mouth in a deep kiss. It was one full of longing, of devotion, and a silent plea. His whole body quaked with desire as he sucked her tongue into his mouth, lips and tongue and teeth all begging for her to respond. Willow let her hands roam over his back, exploring his heated skin even as she hoped that it was in some way soothing.
Mads must have caught on well enough because he slowly began to grind himself against her hip. Her fingers dug into the strong muscle of his ass as she coaxed him on, encouraging him to move harder, faster. He picked up his tempo as she tried to slide her hand between their bodies, every inch of her skin needing to feel the sensation of his thick shaft pressed against it.
Instead, he captured his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together as he pressed them down onto the mattress. His grip squeezed with every thrust, his tongue moving in time to the quickening roll of his hips. Soon, his breathing turned into gasped, needy pants. His hips snapped forward, his cock sliding tightly between them, slicked by his leaking pre-cum and the joined sweat of their bodies.
Hot breath pushed past Willow’s ear as Mads heaved each breath. His body shook. It wasn’t a surprise when she felt the first sting of teeth against her neck. But the moan it enticed was. It rolled out from her chest, rattling into his own. She felt the moment when he realized that it was from her, not him. His whole body jerked and he lifted his head high enough to seek out her eyes. With a swift smile she pressed her chest up, arching her neck within the same moment.
“Go on. I want you to,�
�� she urged.
The thrill his response provoked when straight to her head and left her drunk on the sensation. His thrusts became savage and wild. His cock twitched against her even as the growing heat became an exquisite burn; his whole body trembled with the coiling need for release. And all the while he stared at her like this moment was beyond all of his fantasies.
Cupping the side of his face with her free hand, Willow kissed him, soft and sweet, and then melted back against the bed, making sure to expose her throat.
“I like it when you bite me.”
Mads struck before she had finished the last word. His teeth sank in a glorious, possessive clench. One that he kept until the last of his release had evaporated and he slumped down on top of her.
Chapter Fourteen
Mads blinked, his eyes adjusting to the glaring light, and his head throbbing with an agonizing ache. It was the residue of a drug leaving his system and his brow furrowed as he tried to remember what had happened.
The memories that flooded him were all of Willow. Of her coming for him, traveling halfway around the world to ensure his safety. A hazy sense of warmth blossomed at the thought, breaking through the pain that lingered in his head and shoulders. His mind lingered over the taste of her, the touch, how she had willingly opened up to him.
The last memory he had was of falling asleep beside her, wrapped within her warmth and sweet, endearing scent. Bit by bit, his mind came back enough that he realized that, while his arms were forced wide, he still couldn’t feel her beside him. Scrunching up his face, he stretched his fingers. Still nothing. It was when he tugged his arms towards himself and felt the resistance that he finally felt himself draw back within his skin.
Turning his head, he looked along his arm, his mind muddling again when he saw a leather shackle enclosed tightly around his wrist. It tethered him to a large metal loop on the wine cellar floor. Harsh leather scraped against his neck as he turned to look at his other arm. A matching band wrapped around his other wrist and latched him to the other wall. His brain was still too muddled to make any sense out of what was happening.
“Mads?”
He blinked and lifted his heavy head to look across the room. His vision blurred and he squinted to try and force his gaze to focus. Willow was strung up a few feet before him. A thick trail of rough rope entwined her wrists before it looped over a meat hook that was suspended from the ceiling. The position made her white sweater ride up, exposing her midriff so it bristled into gooseflesh as the chilling air hit her.
“Are we in a wine cellar?” he mumbled.
He tried to swallow, but the thick strip of leather around his throat made it difficult.
“That’s your first question?” Willow snapped.
“I have others,” he admitted as his mind cleared. “I just thought I’d start with one you might be able to answer.”
She huffed, slumping against her bonds until she winced and was forced to straighten.
“Yes, we appear to be in a wine cellar,” she said with a hint of annoyance.
“How did we get here?”
“That, I don’t quite know,” she said. “I woke up to find a bunch of very angry men in our room. They injected me with something and I woke up here.”
“How many men?”
“Four. Do you want descriptions?”
“Maybe later,” he muttered and tried to swallow again. “But if we do happen to cross paths with them again, let me know so I can kill them.”
“Sure.”
His head snapped up again and he watched her carefully. She only shrugged, or as much as she could with her arms tied over her head.
“What? They kidnapped me. Take ’em out.”
“I find you very attractive right now,” he admitted with a smile.
“You have problems,” she said, even as an answering smile crept across her lips.
“At least they had enough manners to dress you.”
“And they gave you pants. But not a shirt, for some reason. That’s a little weird.”
“Have you seen our captor?”
She shook her head, wincing at the strain it caused on her neck.
“How long have you been strung up like that?”
“I woke up a while ago. It’s hard to tell time down here.”
At first, Mads had thought it was just bravado, that she was squashing down all of her fear to appear calm. But now he saw that, while there were lingering traces of anxiety around the edges of her demeanor, there wasn’t the terror he would have expected. In fact, she actually seemed more annoyed than anything else. As his senses came back to him, he straightened as much as his bonds would allow. He didn’t recognize the space.
He was still surveying the area when the door at the top of the stairs opened. An aged man awkwardly meandered down the stone steps, followed carefully by a broader man who seemed to be waiting for the first man to fall. Sickness had ravaged the first man, eating away as his physique until he looked sunken and pale. Finally, he reached the last stair and began to shuffle towards Mads, his eyes focused solely upon him. Mads studied every inch of him but there was nothing familiar.
“Hello, Mads. It’s been a long time.”
Mads’ skin crawled at the sound of the man’s voice. It reached somewhere deep down until it laced around something almost forgotten. The man’s lips tipped at Mads’ shock.
“You remember me.”
“Yes,” Mads snarled as anger twisted up inside him. “I remember you.”
“I don’t,” Willow said, instantly gaining everyone’s attention. “Yeah, remember me? The other person you kidnapped. Hi.”
Mads couldn’t bring himself to keep his eyes off of the man before him. It didn’t seem real that the person who had destroyed his life, whose memory had haunted him for most of his life, who he had come this way to hunt down, was now standing before him.
The man had looked so much larger within his memories. A goliath within his dream. He had been a figure lodged within his mind, beyond the restrictions of physics or the ravages of age. Now, faced with a sickly, pale, and weathered man, none of it made sense to Mads.
“They told me your name is Willow,” the man who had stalked his mother said.
“Do not talk to her,” Mads snarled. He jerked against his restraints until the straps dug into his skin.
“Calm down. I think it’s high time that I met your girlfriend.” Rage flooded through Mads anew as the man turned his smiling face back to her. “Hello, Willow. I am Dimitri, Mads’ father.”
Willow’s face visibly paled as Mads watched her eyes dart between the two, obviously looking for some kind of direction.
Swallowing thickly, she smiled and managed to say, “Nice to meet you.”
“You murdered my father,” Mads snapped.
A part of his mind screamed at him that survival could depend on feeding into the man’s delusions. But death would be far more acceptable than to ever tarnish his father’s memory with such a lie.
“I know you must be confused, son—”
Mads surged against his restraints, his chin raising with defiance as he held Dimitri’s eyes. “I am the son and only child of Count Daan Latvis.”
Dimitri’s jaw worked as he glared down at Mads. “Do not talk about your mother like that. She was a good, loyal woman. She would never have cheated on me.”
Mads’ stomach dropped at the word choice. Was. Grief crashed down on him like a tidal wave, robbing the air from his lungs and crumbling something deep within him. He closed his eyes and took a deep, long breath.
“She was loyal to my father. You never met her until the night you slaughtered her.”
Dimitri knelt down, the motion creaky and obviously costing him a lot. He crowded forward until Mads could not look away.
“Do you understand what I suffered for you? I had prepared to die with your mother. To join her in the afterlife where we could finally be together. But I couldn’t leave you. You needed your father,” Dimitri s
aid as he softly brushed his hand over Mads’ hair, the gesture making his stomach churn. “I stayed alive for you.”
“There was no reason for you to go to such trouble.”
“You’re angry. I understand. You feel abandoned. But you have to understand that, as your father, I had to do what was best for you. They could afford to give you all the things I couldn’t. And I was right, wasn’t I? Look at you. Aren’t you magnificent?”
“You played no role in the man I have become.”
“One way or another, Mads. I created you.”
“No. I survived you,” Mads hissed. “And I am not your son.”
“You should hope that you are,” Dimitri said. “Because if the DNA test says that you’re not—that you’re his,” he snarled the word, “I won’t be able to let you live.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow cut in. “I’m a bit confused.”
“I am having a DNA test completed to have my proof that Mads is mine.”
“My uncle had one conducted when I was a child. The results were conclusive. I am a Latvis.”
“No, I get that,” Willow said. “What I’m bucking against is, why you would strip your son half naked and chain him to a wall?”
Mads bit out a sharp laugh, rocking forward slightly as he chuckled. Dimitri, however, didn’t look so amused, his anger remaining as he tried to get onto his feet. He only managed to get halfway before he needed to stop for a rest. So his glare shifted to the man who had come in with him. Without a word exchanged, the man moved towards Willow and slammed a hand across his face. Willow yelped at the blow but quickly bit down other reaction.
Mads lurched forward, the leather cutting into his skin deep enough for blood to ooze up from the cuts. The man turned, checking to see if his boss required anything more, and Mads met his eyes.
“I am going to kill you,” Mads promised.
Willow cracked her jaw and looked at the man with more rage than Mads had ever seen her eyes hold. “Not if I do it first.”
