by Madison Faye
His Captive Mountain Virgin
Madison Faye
Contents
Free Books Offer
His Captive Mountain Virgin
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Featured Content
Also by Madison Faye
Mailing List
Hard Core
Hard Core
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Bonus Fan Story
Paid For Three Times
Paid For Three Times
Author’s Note:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Surprise!
Beasting Beauty
Beasting Beauty
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Stealing Beauty
Chapter 1
Sneak Peek: Claiming His Mountain Bride
Claiming His Mountain Bride
Chapter 1
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Copyright © 2018 Madison Faye
Cover: Coverlüv
Photography: Wander Aguiar
Models: Shane M. & Jess T.
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His Captive Mountain Virgin
Up on my mountain, she’ll play by my rules. My obsession. My Temptation. My Captive.
When I left life as a hitman for the Russian mob years ago, I never wanted to look back. I took the millions I’d made doing their dirty work and built my retreat up on Blackthorn Mountain, away from everything.
But a flash wildfire brings her to my front door, and from the moment I lay eyes on her, I know one thing: she’ll be mine.
Gorgeous, sassy, innocent, untouched...and my prisoner. No one can know I’m here, so she stays. I’m keeping her.
Life as a contract killer and now as a rough mountain man has turned my heart cold. I should keep a sweet girl like her away from me. But once I put my hands on her tempting curves and once I taste those sweet, innocent lips, I want nothing else than to keep her as close as possible.
I’ve saved her from the fire, but if we aren’t careful, we’ll both get burned.
Because my past isn’t done with me. The mob I walked away from years before thinks they can use Chloe to get to me, but they’re dead fucking wrong
Up here, I’m king, she’s my mountain queen, and I’ll storm heaven and hell to keep her safe.
Chloe’s got a fight in her, but once I lay my hands on her, I’m never letting her go.
Just so we’re clear, this book is completely out of control, and reality has left the building. If you’re looking for realism, this ain’t it. But, if you’ve got a hankering for a growly-alpha-caveman hero that will stop at nothing to claim what’s his, then you’re probably going to devour this book ;). Safe, no cheating, and HEA guaranteed.
1
Chloe
Around me, everything burned.
Smoke choked the air, and ash fell like black and grey snow as I stumbled through the hazy heat, calling names.
“James! Amanda! Lauren! Kyle!”
The rest of the kids were already down the trail and hopefully waiting on the school bus with the other teachers. But when we’d realized we had four still missing, I hadn’t even thought before I’d gone dashing back up the trail.
“Kids!”
Somewhere nearby, there was a huge cracking sound, and I screamed as a tree ten feet from me exploded into flames.
…This was not how today's field trip was supposed to go down. And the worst part was that this entire thing had been my idea.
School trips for the kindergarten-through-sixth graders at Macworth Preparatory Academy typically went places more befitting, well, their station. I hate to use that term since it sounds like something out of the eighteen hundreds, but when you’ve got a class full of kids whose parents are dropping ninety-thousand bucks a year on private elementary school, it feels like it fits.
Yeah, coming out to the woods up on Blackthorn Mountain wasn’t something the kids I was teaching ever did, and certainly not on a school bus, God forbid. No, the school trips those kids usually went on were on planes to Switzerland, or on luxury cruise lines to the Caribbean. But I’d pushed hard to take them all out here to Blackthorn for a slice of something real — to get these kids outside for once.
And for a solid hour, it seemed like things were actually going well. Despite the grumblings and the wining, and the “where’s the wifi?” complaints, I think some of them had actually started to have fun. But the fire had come out of nowhere, and now, there I was, staggering through smoke and ash, scared out of my mind looking for four kids. And if anything happened to them, I knew I’d never forgive myself in a million years.
“Kids!”
I coughed violently, doubling over and gripping a tree trunk as smoke choked my throat. But I pushed on, lungs burning as I screamed their names again.
Suddenly, I heard a sob.
Close.
I whirled, dashing past a blazing tree-trunk to a pile of boulders poking through the underbrush. The sob came again, and when I scrambled around to the other side of it, I let out a choking gasp of relief. I threw my arms around the four eight-years-olds, hugging them fiercely and almost sobbing with relief.
“Okay, guys, we’ve gotta run!”
“Ms. Jennings, are we going to die?”
Not a fucking chance, I hissed to myself inside. But I smiled at little Amanda Ramos as I hugged her close.
“No way, kiddo, but we gotta run so we don’t get burned, okay? The bus is waiting for us, so let’s go!”
That got them going, and suddenly, I had Amanda in my arms, Lauren’s hand in mine, and James and Kyle scampering after me as we ran full bl
ast down the trail to the parking lot.
My lungs burned fiercely, and tears streamed down my ash-blackened cheeks. The fire seemed to explode around us — jumping from tree to tree faster and faster, until it was blazing well ahead of us on the trail. The heat was withering, and I was scared out of my mind, but there was one thing that kept me going:
These kids were not going to get hurt here today. Not a chance.
I could see Tricia and Mike — two of the other teachers who’d come today — running as fast they could up the trail to meet us. When suddenly, with a sound like a bomb going off and a shower of sparks, an enormous tree plunged to the ground, right across the trail in front of us.
The kids and I screamed, staggering to a stop just shy of the huge blaze, and I started to lose it. I started to panic, and I almost broke, when something inside of me snapped.
Not today.
“Catch her!” I screamed at Mike, who barely had a chance to understand what I was saying before I heaved little Amanda right over the burning log into his arms. I grabbed Lauren next, grunting as I did the same. Jake was next, and I was scooping little James up when the blast came.
I screamed again, knocked sideways and rolling to protect the little guy in my arms as the heat blasted over us. I staggered to my feet, barely able to see Mike and Tricia through the flames before I blindly tossed James over to them.
“We got him!” Tricia screamed through the inferno. “Chloe, we got them all! Now get over here before—”
With a sound like the earth breaking open, the whole world went red and hot.
I didn’t even scream this time, as the wind was sucked out of my lungs with the blast. I grunted, thrown sideways and off my feet, and slamming into a burning tree before I crumpled to the ground.
Everything went into slow motion around me. There was a ringing sound in my ears, and I started to stagger to my feet, but a I looked around I realized I had no idea where anything was. I couldn’t see Tricia and Mike. I couldn’t see the trail. All I could see was huge walls of flames, getting closer and closer.
And then I started to cry.
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to stagger to my knees, but the smoke choked me back down. I tried again, but this time when I fell, I knew I wasn’t getting back up again. The world spun around me, and everything started to get dim.
If I was anyone else, I’d have thought of the people I’d wish I could say goodbye to. But there really wasn’t anyone. I was an only child whose parents had died when I was eighteen. And at twenty-two and living in a somewhat hostile new city and working at a cold new job, I didn’t really have any friends. As for someone more than a friend? Well, that was laughable. No boyfriend. No friend with benefits. No nothing, ever.
Yeah, twenty-two, no friends or family, and I was going to die a virgin in some freak forest fire. It was like the ending to some sad, terrible indie movie or something.
The fire grew hotter, the world burned fiercer, and as I sunk into the dead leaves and underbrush, my only thought was hoping that the bus got out okay. If the bus and those kids got out okay, this would be worth it.
This is how it ends I guess, I thought miserably to myself as I felt the air leaving my lungs completely.
And then suddenly, there was a roar, and I froze.
It wasn’t a roar like the fire I’d been hearing. I shivered, realizing it almost sounded like an animal. The sound of smashing wood and breaking branches came crashing towards me followed by another roar, and it felt like slow motion as I rolled over and let my eyes land on…
…On him.
Oh, now I know I’m dying.
The man I could see running right at me through the flames was shirtless, his lips pulled back in a roar across his chiseled jaw, and his crystal blue eyes blazing through the fire. His muscled arms and chest were covered in tattoos, pumping and coiling as he vaulted a burning stump and crashed through more blazing underbrush.
I wanted to say something. I wanted to tell him to be careful, or to not get burned, but when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. Slowly, my eyelids felt heavier and heavier, until they shut completely.
The last of my air brushed past my cracked lips. I started to go under when suddenly, I felt huge, powerful hands grab me up off the ground. I felt weightless as the hands lifted me effortlessly, and when I felt my body drape over a hard, muscled shoulder, I felt it all go dim.
“Hang on to me,” a rough, deep voice growled close to my ear.
I remember shivering and thinking how beautiful that voice was. And then everything went black.
2
Vlad
Beautiful.
My pulse thudded in my ears as I kicked in the door to my place. I ached everywhere from my run through the fire — my clothes as burned and singed as hers and blood trickling down a gash in my arm. But one look down at the angel in my arms, and the rest of it faded to nothing.
Beautiful. Angelic. Pure.
Soft skin, plump red lips, and dark hair tousled across her face. Her small, fragile body was cradled in my arms as I carried her through the massive lodge-style house to my bedroom. She shifted slightly, and the sweet swell of her perfect tits pressed into my chest, making my cock twitch between my thighs.
I bit back the growl, my grip tightening on her and my ability to hold back the animal inside of me faltering.
…I’d been up there too long.
Alone, sequestered. Without a woman’s touch.
I groaned inside as I lay my angel down on the big bed, and when I stood, I realized my hands were clenched into fists and my heart was racing as I gazed down at her.
Fuck she was gorgeous. Gorgeous, so innocent looking, and so clearly out of her element. Her clothes — what was left of them — said “weekend tourist” to these woods. Black yoga pants, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker.
Or, like I said, what was left of them.
My blood seared through my veins as I looked down at her and the clothes that were now half burned and shredded from her tight little body. The yoga pants were all but torn away — mere scraps of fabric clinging weakly to those sweet thighs and curvy hips, and the t-shirt and windbreaker so far burned that I’d torn them off of her on my run back here to the house.
My place of isolation. My retreat here on the far ridge of Blackthorn Mountain.
I’d been up here for two years — two fucking years with barely any human contact, aside from the few other loners who lived up here, away from it all. I’d come to Blackthorn when it was clear staying anywhere else would mean a constant threat on my life. You see, you don’t walk away from the Russian Bratva — the mob — and live.
Well, most people don’t. I did — at least, so far.
I’d seen too much. I’d done too much, killed too many innocents, and crossed too many lines to be able to keep on doing it and live with myself. So I’d walked, mid-job, where I was supposed to put a bullet in a man’s head in front of his wife and children, to send a message. Trouble was, that message meant fuck all to me, and it had been standing there with the gun in my hand and his family’s cries in my ears that I’d realized I’d lose myself if I kept it up.
So I’d walked.
Boris Popov, the main boss of my sem’ya — my “family” — didn’t like that one fucking bit. The hit had been a personal errand for him — nothing to do with business, he just didn’t like the guy. I knew what me walking away from it and letting that man and his family escape into hiding meant, and I did it anyways.
Excommunication. Revenge. Death.
Too bad for them, I was gone before the guys sent to kill me could get to me. My job with the Bratva had taken me to the States a number of times anyways, so that’s where I’d gone. Crime pays well with the Russian mob, and I’d saved up a fucking fortune before I’d left. Here in the states, I’d set up dummy corporations, and assumed a new identity, and had this place built, way the fuck out here in the woods up on Blackthorn Mountain.
Two years later, there�
��d been no sign of Boris. The other men on this mountain had their own reasons to avoid society, and I’d never had reason to worry about them leaking anything about me being here.
But she was something new. A variable. Something I’d never seen coming.
I didn’t know what had started the fire down in the valley, but when I’d gone down to investigate and heard the screams of children, I’d lunged into action. Fuck keeping in hiding. I wasn’t going to let innocents get hurt. I wasn’t that man anymore.
But when I’d run into the flames, it’d been her I saw. Her, the girl lying knocked out in my bed wearing practically nothing. I’d watched her tossing those kids over the burning logs to help, heedless of herself. I’d watched the trees exploding in fire, and I’d watched her stagger to the ground, with no hope of getting out alive.
Everything inside had told me to leave it — that as fucked up as it was for her to die, that saving her would only expose me to risk. But I ran towards her before I could even try and stop myself. I’d crashed through the fire, my eyes locked on the angel on the ground until I’d scooped her up. Bringing her here was the only option, and so here we were.
Me, the killer on the run, and her, the fucking angel in my bed.
My eyes dragged over her, and my cock throbbed as I took her in. Fuck, she was gorgeous. That long dark hair half draped across her face, her pouty lips so fucking inviting and tempting, and the fact that she was basically naked made my balls tingle.
She was so fucking tantalizing lying there under my gaze — most of her long lean legs bared to me, her soft, full tits half spilling out of that plain white bra, her legs slightly spread, and just a glimpse of her little white cotton panties pulled tight across her pussy beneath the tatters of her yoga pants. My cock lurched in my pants, and I growled as I reached down to wrap my hand around it.
Fuck, it would be so easy — so easy to just push those thighs apart, tear those little panties away, and slide my cock between her soft pussy lips. I bet feeling that tight, slick little cunt stretch around my swollen cock would feel like heaven after the years I’d gone without. My body tensed, my pulse roaring and my cock aching for release. It’d been way too long since I’d had a woman. Years. He’ll, it’d been years since I’d seen a woman.
