Taken

by Esme Devlin

  Sometimes, that makes me feel a little better.

  Sometimes, that makes me feel like I might be going a little mad.

  I choose a first edition of Alice Through the Looking Glass and take it back to my bedroom. Not exactly my first choice of reading material, but Julian has literally nothing that was published after the second world war, and Dickens is getting old real fast.

  I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I know the room is dark and I can hear the sound of another person breathing.

  There’s an arm circling my waist.

  There’s an arm around my waist.

  An arm…

  I’m frozen.

  I lay there for a few seconds, still as a plank of wood and trying to control my thundering heart. Is this a dream?

  No. This isn’t a dream. I can smell him, and I’ve never had a dream where I can smell things before.

  He must have returned.

  The thought has the fear slowly dissipating and something else rising in its place. Something akin to anger.

  Who does he think he is?

  I heard the speech… he’s the earth… I’m the moon… yada. I’d disagree with that. I’d say he’s pretty fucking simple to think he can give me that speech, leave for three days, and insert himself into my bed like we’re husband and wife.

  From the sound of him, he’s sleeping.

  I count to three in my head. One. Two. Fuck it.

  Grabbing the arm that’s around my waist, I use all the strength in my body to rip it away from me and turn myself around with it, so I’m facing him.

  He wakes instantly — a bit too instantly. It has me wondering if he was ever really sleeping, but I don’t get the time to linger on it.

  Two strong hands grab my shoulders and I’m being pushed up. Everything happens so quickly — and by the end of it I’m planted upright, legs spread, firmly on his stomach.

  His hands dig into my hips, locking my lower body in place on top of him, so I use my arms — the only weapon I have — to hammer down on his chest.

  “Let me go!”

  “Shhhhhhh.” He shushes me. He fucking shushes me. And then he takes both arms easily and holds them behind my back with one hand.

  “Miss me, little bird?” His voice is gruff, like he hasn’t spoken in a few hours. How long has he been here?

  “Like toothache.”

  He chuckles and my whole body trembles as his stomach moves up and down.

  “Is this all just a big joke to you? You threaten to shoot me, you strangle me, lock me up inside your house and then fuck off for days, then you come into my bed and…” I cut myself off because I’m trying to twist my body out of his firm hold.

  Julian flips me over with a buck of his hips and I fall on to the mattress. Within a second, his weight is on top of me and my arms are pinned at the side of my head.

  “You sound more angry about the fact I left than you are about the other stuff?”

  I let out a hard blow of air, trying to get my hair off my face. I’m not going to entertain him with a reply.

  I guess he takes my silence as an admission, because again he chuckles a low throaty laugh that vibrates between us.

  “So you did miss me.”

  “I didn’t miss you. And I’m not angry that you left, in fact I was delighted. I’m only angry you came back.”

  He leans down into me until I can feel the warmth of his breath tickle my ear. “My little bird is a terrible liar.”

  I shiver at the sound of his gravelly voice in my ear. This isn’t right. I’m not supposed to react like this. “Can you get off me? I don’t like being touched.”

  “Really? You’ve never been touched by me before.”

  I snort at his arrogance. “And I don’t intend to be. Get the fuck off me.”

  “Why would I do that? You make it so much fun.”

  Anger bubbles inside me and threatens to erupt. I tried asking him nicely. He thinks this is a joke. “You actually like this, don’t you? I have news for you — you’re a sick fuck. You think this is a game — it’s not. You— ”

  “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” He cuts me off and I want to slap him square in that hard jaw of his. I would, if he didn’t have me pinned.

  “Yes. When I’m home. Alone. Not with you.”

  Julian tuts a few times before replying. “You have an answer for everything.”

  “And you don’t?”

  He chuckles again and arranges my wrists so they’re being held with only one hand.

  “We’re the same, me and you.”

  I snort at him. “We’re nothing alike. You’re a rich cocky asshole who thinks they can have whatever they want.”

  “True. You could be that too, if you’d only stop throwing your toys out of the pram.”

  With his now free hand, he pushes the hair back from my face and then runs a finger down my cheek.

  “Why? Why go to all this trouble? You could have anyone. We don’t even like each other.”

  “That’s not true. What makes you think I don’t like you?”

  Is this guy for real? “Where should I start? The part where you strangled me? The part where you threatened me? Or the part where you didn’t listen when I told you to get off me?”

  “I disagree, little bird. I’d say if anything those were all alluding to just how much I do like you.”

  “I’d say those were all alluding to just how fucked up you are.”

  He laughs and lets go of my hands. I’m free now. I could push him off me, but for some reason I don’t. Maybe it’s because it seems like it wouldn’t do a lot of good anyway… who knows.

  “I’d say you’ll learn to enjoy just how fucked up I am.”

  It’s such an absurd thought I almost begin laughing. “I’d say you’re wrong about that.”

  “I’d say I’m never wrong. I’d say… let me prove it.” He trails a line of soft kisses across my forehead and I don’t know what the hell to do.

  “I’ll scream,” I tell him.

  He shrugs. “I’ll choke the screams from your throat.”

  A shiver of fear at this threat runs down my spine. “I’ll make sure you get no enjoyment. I’ll punch and kick through every fucking second.”

  “Sounds like the best fuck I’ll ever have.”

  The man really does have an answer for everything. “Oh, that’s your thing, is it? Then I’ll make sure to never do that ever.”

  He laughs at that. “You cut me real deep, darling.”

  “And I’ll keep doing it. I’m telling you, you can keep me twenty years and I’ll make every day of it a living hell.”

  “You’ll break before I do, of that I can assure you.”

  His hands come to the side of my face and he cups my head firmly.

  He’s too close.

  The smell of him wraps around me, invading my senses. His breath is warm on my cheeks. I’m trying to think of a response but nothing smart — or even coherent — comes to mind. I can’t think clearly, all I can think about is what I suspect he’s about to do.

  My stomach ties itself up in knots at the thought of it.

  And then he does it.

  He brings his head down and brushes his lips against mine, so soft that I barely even feel it. The knots low in by belly clench even tighter. My heart-rate canters.

  He retreats almost as quickly as he came and I blink — even though I can see very little in the darkness.

  I want more.

  Does that make me fucked up?

  Probably. But I think I might go just as mad as he is if he doesn’t kiss me.

  This is wrong.

  I know that.

  “I fucking hate y—”

  That’s the last thing that comes out of my mouth before he steals the words. He crashes down against me, hard, and stops my lips from moving.

  I don't even know what to do.

  I’m so angry at him, for everything he’s done. For taking me. For taking me and then leaving me
. For everything.

  And yet, I find myself kissing him back. There’s something about him that I can’t put into words. An invisible force, drawing me towards him even when I know I should run far away. His tongue enters my mouth and I open for him completely, matching his strokes as his fingers massage into my head.

  Logically, I know I need to stop this. But I can't find the words to protest. I can’t find the strength to push him off me. And it feels so fucking good. It feels like being wanted. It feels like fighting. It feels like company, after being alone for three days straight and spending the whole time picturing his face. His eyes. Picturing the stubble on his jaw that’s now scratching my cheeks as he nuzzles closer into me and his kiss moves from my lips.

  I know I need to stop this.

  I know this is dangerous.

  But I can’t fucking do it.

  He uses his knees to split my legs open, and I feel the hardness of his stomach at the place where they meet. I feel something else, something even harder, searing into my bare thigh. He’s naked.

  He’s fucking naked.

  Why didn’t I notice that before?

  Now I’m fully aware that the only thing separating us is the thin silk nightdress I’m wearing, the same one that’s now bunched up around my hips after he forced my legs apart.

  His lips trail kisses to my neck and I pull his head back up. I can deal with him kissing my lips, since that’s the only place I wasn’t kissed before. I try to shove that part of me away and let out a moan as his tongue slides into my mouth — caressing and at the same time dominating completely. I’m trying to keep him there. If he’s there, he’s not going any lower. So I take it like I’m starving. I take it like I’m frantic with need for him.

  Maybe I am.

  I don’t know… this is all new to me.

  My arms snake around his head and I pull him down further into me — if that’s even possible. Now his hands are everywhere, running down the sides of my body and tugging at my nightdress. When he grinds himself against the space between my legs, I fear I’m about to lose every ounce of sense I was born with.

  Would it really be so bad? To give him what he so clearly wants?

  He said I didn’t have a choice, anyway. Maybe this would be better than the kicking and screaming. Less traumatic. Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  I don’t fucking know, but the fact I’m actually considering it worries me.

  Correction — it fucking terrifies me.

  And with every move his body makes against my center, and every caress he gives my lips, I feel myself wanting more. Like it’s not going to be enough. Like nothing is ever going to be enough again.

  “Stop,” I tell him, though it’s more of a breathless whisper than it is an order.

  “Stop?”

  “This is wrong.”

  He laughs and nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “All the best things usually are.”

  “I’m not joking. I’m asking you nicely — no, I’m begging you — to stop.”

  To my surprise, he raises his head, as if he’s looking at me — which is impossible because it’s pitch dark. “I like it when you beg.”

  “Then give me what I want.”

  With a sigh, he rolls off me and I feel like I can breathe again. I can think again too, without him on top of me. I wish the smell of his cologne had disappeared with his weight, but that would likely be asking too much.

  I’m still shocked he actually listened to me.

  “Whatever you want… I told you that, so I’m following through. Tonight, at least. But take note, I also said I’d give you things you didn’t even know you wanted, and I fully intend to do that. Sweet dreams, piccolina.”

  My breath catches in my throat at the word he used. It’s barely even a memory now… more like a dream. But there’s a tiny something inside of me that almost remembers it.

  Was it my father?

  Was it… him? All those years ago?

  I don’t know, but it makes me sad.

  I’ve been thinking a lot about what he told me at dinner all those nights ago — about my father and the life I would have lived. I’ve probably thought about it too much. This place, this house… it’s a cage, but it’s beautiful. Would I have loved it, if it didn’t represent a cage to me? I walked the corridors, I sat in the library, I watched the sky through the huge glass dome in the grand hallway. And all the while I wondered what would have happened if my father hadn’t died.

  This wouldn’t have been a cage.

  I wouldn’t have been a prisoner.

  He wouldn’t have been my captor.

  The demons that lurk inside me would never have been born.

  Would I have been happy?

  Chapter 8

  JULIAN

  “Good morning, little bird.”

  Sofia turns over in bed, pulling the pillow down over her face and letting out a groan.

  “It’s time to get up.”

  I give her a nudge, but she just pulls the covers further around her body. “Leave me alone, pest.”

  With a chuckle, I cross the room and take the liberty of finding her something to wear. I guess mornings aren’t her thing.

  “We have business to attend to today.”

  “Shove your business up your—”

  I cut her off. “Important business.”

  With a sigh, she turns around in bed and makes a feeble attempt at sitting up.

  “There’s coffee on the bedside for you.”

  She glances over and swallows, nodding her head while her eyes blink rapidly. I would love to say Sofia looks like a goddess first thing in the morning, all fresh faced and glamorous. The truth is with her wild hair and disheveled nightdress, she looks like she’s been dragged through a garden hedge.

  And strangely enough, I think I prefer it to the painted red lips and the tight fitting green dress.

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  I pick out an outfit of a black pencil skirt and a deep purple silk blouse before placing it on the end of the bed. “I’ve been up for hours.”

  “You’re not normal.”

  I raise my eyebrows and stand at the bottom of the bed. “Have you seen yourself?”

  She gives me a sticky sweet smile while she picks up her coffee cup. “I’d look a hell of a lot better if I wasn’t rudely awakened last night.”

  I take a seat on the end of the bed. “Someone disturbed my pampered little princess? Who was it? Tell me their name, and I’ll kill them.”

  She rolls her eyes. “If you want me to get ready, get out of my room.”

  “Very well.” Smiling, I nod my head and get up, making my way to the door. “But just so you know, this is my room.”

  Chapter 9

  SOFIA

  I take my time getting ready, because why the hell not?

  Over the last few days, I’ve built up quite the collection of various toiletries and cosmetics that now sit inside their own basket in the bathroom, thanks to Lydia. And I decide to make use of every single one of them.

  Serves him right, if you ask me. I threatened to make his life a living hell, and although it’s kinda embarrassing that the best I can do is take extra time moisturizing my skin (okay embarrassing and pathetic) — it’s the best idea I’ve got right now.

  I make my way downstairs and Julian is standing in the entrance hall waiting for me. As always, he’s flawless. A dark charcoal suit clings to his muscular frame, and I wonder if he knows that shit is like crack for women or if he actually needs to wear them for work.

  That’s when I realize how little I know about the man who’s taken me.

  I stop on the fifth step and he turns around, eyes widening at the sight of me. I must admit, I kinda enjoy being looked at like that. No one has ever looked at me the way he does, like he’s both surprised and pleased and hungry all at the same time.

  “Where are we going?”

  �
��You’ll find out when we get there.”

  I shake my head at him. “No.”

  “No?” He flicks his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth pulls up in an amused smile.

  “If you want me to go anywhere with you, you better start talking. I want answers, and I want them now.”

  He takes a few steps towards me. From my position on the fifth step, I’m taller than him, and he has to tilt his head up to look at me. I like it better this way.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  He shrugs lazily. “Many things.”

  “That’s not a real answer.”

  “But it is an answer…”

  I take another step down. “You said we have business. I want to know, specifically, what type of business.”

  He pauses for a few long seconds while he looks me in the eye. He’s thinking, I can see it written across his face. He’s thinking, but he’s also calculating. Likely trying to pre-empt my reaction to whatever he’s about to say. “I told you I was the only man who could remove your demons. Today, we remove those demons. Is that an acceptable answer for you?”

  “It’s a start,” I tell him.

  “Good.” He closes the gap between us and takes a hold of my wrist. “I’ve humored your little inquisition, now it’s your turn to humor mine. Come.”

  “I hadn’t finished!” I grit the words out while he pulls me down the rest of the stairs.

  He turns around and glances in my direction. “Yes, you had.”

  The car journey to wherever we’re going is filled with silence and a strange tension between us. Other than my comment this morning, neither of us have spoken about what happened last night, although it appears to be the only thing I can think about.

  I’m more confused about him than ever. On the one hand, the logical side of my brain is telling me not to trust this man. For starters, he’s dangerous. And then there is the total disregard for my boundaries. Hell, he practically admitted to me last night than he’s the one who gets to decide what I want and what I don’t.

  Then there’s the other side… the part that I find harder to explain because it defies all logic, and I don’t even think it comes from my brain. It comes from this unknown part of me, the part of me that I can barely even remember. He’s clearly handsome, that goes without saying… but it’s not his looks. There’s this inexplicable pull I have towards him. He’s arrogant, cocky, and pretty much a bastard. But when he says he wants me, I believe him. And how tempting would it be to just submit to him? To let him wipe all of my problems away? To let him look after me?