by Charlie Hart
The two of them go on about their first night, and the way their men shared their beds. The claiming, they called it. And jealousy mixed with frustration stirs in my chest.
“You’re quiet, Tia,” Kate says. “How was your first night?”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, and wince.
“Oh no,” Lilah says, sympathy in her eyes. “Was it that bad? I know it hurts the first time. But it’ll get better. I promise.”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“I haven’t...we haven’t...done it yet.”
“With which one?” Kate’s brows raise.
“Any of them,” I admit.
I see the look they give each other, and it’s more pity than shock.
Tears, which don’t come naturally for me, burn the back of my eyes, and I blink them away.
“I’m starting to think they’re just not interested.”
That causes both of the women to laugh.
“It’s not funny. I’m serious.”
Kate moves to sit beside me. “Trust me, I saw your men, and they’re all testosterone and male hunger. And you’re a beautiful woman. Maybe they’re just afraid to push you too soon.”
“I don’t think there’s any fear in any of them.”
“I think you just have to let them know what you want,” Lilah says.
“Shouldn’t they know?”
Kate snorts. “I grew up with three brothers. Trust me, men have no idea what women think. They’re a lot more afraid of making mistakes than we think. Especially the good ones.”
I listen to the women’s advice, but it’s hard to focus.
Kate was right when she described my husbands as all testosterone and male hunger.
But right now, my body is the hungry one.
In fact, I’m starved.
Chapter 8
Fallon
“Where the hell is she?” My voice bounces off the kitchen walls, where I find Emmerson, Salinger, and Giles.
Huxley and Banks both left early this morning and haven’t returned, but I know she wasn’t with them. And after scouring the house, including her bedroom, Tia is nowhere to be found.
“Who?” Salinger asks, taking a bite of his apple as he leans against the counter, grinning.
“Don’t be an ass. You know I mean Tia. Where is she? She can’t get out of the house without a key card, so which one of you idiots let her out?”
Giles raises his brows at me, and says calmly. “Talking about her like she’s a prisoner isn’t going to help your cause.”
“My cause is to keep her safe.”
“Did you check her bathroom?” Emerson asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans his forearms on the table.
“Yes, I checked her fucking bathroom. I wouldn’t be this upset if I thought there was a chance she was here. Did she say anything to any of you?”
I look between the three of them, and see Emerson flinch, then reach into his pack pocket and curse.
“What?”
“She mentioned going to see one of the women who came in with her on the boat. I didn’t think she meant she was going then. She must have taken my key card.”
I mutter a curse under my breath, and storm out the room. I don’t even bother grabbing my jacket before I’m headed out the front door, ready to bang on every door in this damn compound to find her.
I don’t have to look far. Dressed in the dark gray, fur trimmed parka Huxley gave her, Tia saunters down the road towards me. There’s a slight pause to her step when she sees me, and a flash of concern in her eyes. But just as quickly as it’s there, her expression turns to one of defiance. Her chin juts up and her eyes look past me.
“You shouldn’t have left the house,” I growl out.
“I went to see a friend.”
“You stole Emerson’s key card.”
“I borrowed it.” She walks ahead of me, up the path to our home. “And I wouldn’t have to if I had one of my own.”
“You don’t need one. There’s six of us ready to take you anywhere you want, whenever you want.”
She struggles with the key card opening the door, and curses.
“Here.” I take it from her and swipe it, and the system immediately turns green, letting us in.
“Maybe what I wanted was some time alone.” She glares at me as she tosses her mitts and hat aside and takes off her jacket.
“You can be alone all you want in your bedroom.” I hover over her, the fear I initially felt when I’d found her gone, now bristling anger.
“You did not seriously just say that to me.” My own frustration is mirrored in her eyes.
“Do you know what the men out there would do to you-”
“No. I don’t.” She jabs a finger into my chest and I can see the tears she’s fighting to hold back. “Because you won’t show me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You won’t touch me. Any of you. You treat me like I’m some exotic animal in a zoo to be ogled but not touched.”
I can feel eyes on us, and I have no doubt that the other men have come into the room behind me to watch the show.
“That’s what you’re upset about? We’re trying to-”
“Let me guess...to protect me. I’ve heard the speech.” She throws her hands up, and starts to walk away.
I grab her wrist as she passes and turn her towards me. “That’s why you came here, isn’t it? To be safe. Protected. Let us do our job.”
She lets out a small hysterical laugh. “I had all the protection I needed back home. I came here because...” Sucking in a shaky breath, she looks away.
“Because why?”
“Because I wanted freedom. I wanted to choose who I’d spend the rest of my life with. To be treated like an equal. But I guess I just traded one prison for another.”
She jerks her wrist back and I release her. She spins on her heels, and marches past the guys who are glaring daggers at me, before disappearing up the stairs.
We all wince when a door slams shut above us.
“Well done,” Salinger says.
“Screw off,” I mutter, ready to start after her.
“You think that’s a good idea?” Giles asks.
“It’s my mess. I’ll clean it up.”
Giles sighs and roughs a hand over his beard. “Just try and be a little more...understanding.”
Oh, I’ll be understanding all right. In fact, I won’t leave her bedroom until she understands.
Chapter 9
Tia
Damn the man.
And damn this place.
I had so many hopes. So many dreams. And every day I’m here I’m realizing that I allowed myself to believe in a utopia that doesn’t exist. At least not in this house, with Fallon hovering over me like it’s some type of dictatorship.
I pace my bedroom, frustration twisting my gut, fear that I made a terrible choice coming here burning my eyes. One tear escapes, and I brush it away angrily with the back of my hand.
“I won’t cry,” I mutter. Won’t give Fallon that much power over me. But God, the man is infuriating, and arrogant, and insensitive. But even more frustrating is how much I still want him.
I grab my pillow and toss it at the door, just as it opens, hitting Fallon square in the face.
He grunts, catching it midair. His nostrils flare, steely gaze boring into me as he comes into the room and shuts the door behind him.
“Leave,” I say, my voice shaky with emotion.
He turns the deadbolt on the door, and says, “No.”
I can’t deal with his Neanderthal-type behavior right now. Not with how emotional I am. Maybe with Giles or Emerson I could let all the pent-up feelings come out, but Fallon is so cold. And I wonder if he’s ever felt anything in his life.
“Please.” I turn my back on him, so he can’t see the stupid tears that threaten to spill. “I...I don’t want to fight.”
I don’t hear him approach, jus
t feel the heat of his large body behind me, his warm breath against the back of my head.
“I don’t want to fight with you either.” He lets out an uneven sigh, and one strong arm wraps around my waist pulling my back against his chest. His other hand takes mine, fingers twining together.
The gesture is intimate, almost sweet, and more than a little confusing after our fight downstairs.
“I want to fight for you, Tia. I’m sorry you think that makes you a prisoner. But in my eyes, it makes you the most important thing in my life.”
My chest squeezes. I take a moment to process his words, then turn in his arms.
“You’re my wife. I don’t take our vows lightly.” He cups my cheek with a calloused palm, his expression still hard, but there’s a softness to his eyes I hadn’t seen before.
“Neither do I.” I place my hands on his chest, feeling his muscles ripple beneath my touch, and marvel at the power of the man. “But I need you to see me as an equal.”
“I do.” His jaw tenses. “In every way inside this home.”
I guess it’s a start. And in a way, I know he’s right. Outside these walls I’m prey.
“Fine.” I curl my fingers into his shirt, feeling the heat of desire in my core.
He raises an eyebrow. “Fine?”
“I won’t go out without one of you with me.” He starts to open his mouth and I quickly add, “But...”
“But what?”
I chew on my bottom lip, a bout of insecurities flooding me. But I want him. Need to know I’m desired, that I’m more than just a prize to protect.
“I know I say I want independence but….”
“But what, Tia?” The words are more a groan than anything else and it stirs something inside of me.
The darks of his eyes grow, so that there’s only a thin line of blue circling his pupils, and he draws in a breath.
“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight. I want to share my bed. With you.” The words fall from my lips and leave my vulnerability out in the open. I draw a sharp breath, unsure of what he will do with it.
He clenches his jaw, and for a moment I wonder if the thought of sleeping with me is so repulsive.
But then he runs a hand through his cropped hair, muttering something under his breath, and he uses another hand to adjust himself.
Oh.
“You’re sure that’s what you want?”
More than anything in the world.
I nod. “If you want me.”
He cups my cheeks with his palms, and I remember the way his fingertips felt against mine the first night we drove to the compound after the lottery. His skin is calloused, he works hard, but somehow he isn’t rough with me. The vulnerability I showed him won’t be wasted. It’s like he holds my heart in his hands.
“Tia,” he growls. “I want you. I want you so fucking bad.”
The words are primal and needy, and they wake a deep well of desire within me. My eyes close as he traces my lips with his fingertips, his touch sending tingles over my entire body--truly waking me up for the first time in my life.
For all his confidence and intimidation, when I look in his eyes, he exposes a softer side I didn’t expect. He runs his strong hands over my breasts, and my head falls back, intoxicated by his tender movements.
This is what I’ve longed for. What I’ve craved.
A man to hold me, to touch me. To want me.
Lawson saw me as an object, but I know I am not merely a prize to Fallon--he’s devoted to me. He’s made that clear. And even if the way he shows it is overbearing--right now, I don’t care. Let him control me, lock me up in this house. It will be worth it if it means I will share my bed with him tonight.
I’ve never been with a man, but Fallon begins to explore me in a way that tells me he knows what he is doing. Without a word, he lifts the hem of my sweater, pulling it up, over my head and grunting when he sees me in my black satin bra.
Huxley knew what he was doing when he went to get me clothing. He came home with lace bras, red corsets, and crotchless panties that had me blushing as he watched me go through the items. Huxley’s face had been written with a smirk as I held up a barely there nighty, and it’d made me nervous. These intimate items being foreign to me.
But now, as Fallon looks at me, his hands unhooking my bra with ease, my cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. No. Right now, I am savoring the moment for what it is--giving my virginity to my husband.
It’s sacred and something I’ve always dreamt about.
Yes, I am in the middle of nowhere Alaska, and yes, Fallon is a man I barely know. But I’m not stranded, I’m home. And he isn’t a stranger, he’s my husband.
He’s my husband.
“Take me,” I whisper, wanting his hands all over me, wanting my hands on him. “Show me how to make love to you.”
Fallon’s eyes flare, as if he’s near combusting, and he takes my hand, guiding it to the front of his jeans, and I feel him. His hardness, his thick length.
“I’ll show you everything, Tia. But I have a feeling you’ll know what you want and how you’ll want it.”
He’s right. I move my hands to his belt buckle, undoing the button on his jeans, pulling down the zipper. Everything is in slow motion and I tremble with anticipation as I touch his silky length, taking him in my hand.
He groans as I begin to stroke him.
“You like it slow?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his inflection.
I glance up at him, surprised. I don’t think I’ve heard a lighthearted comment fall from his lips since we met.
My lips tug up, and I increase my strokes.
He growls, and then, his mouth is on mine, but this time, it isn’t soft. It isn't’ tender. This time, Fallon’s lips crash against my own, claiming me once and for all.
Chapter 10
Fallon
She has no fucking clue what she’s doing to me. Our lips part and my tongue find hers. With my arms around her narrow frame, I realize for the first time how incredibly feminine she is. She may be fiery with her words when it comes to putting me in my place, but holding her now, I feel the softer side of her. The side that I am determined to protect in this wild frontier.
My cock grows harder as I imagine how she’ll taste when I finally bury my face against her pussy; make her moan and whimper, until she’s begging for my cock. Then I’ll give her what I’ve been dreaming of doing since the moment I laid eyes on her on that cargo ship.
“Fallon,” she whimpers as I lift her up, needing her ass in my hands. Her legs wrap around me, and our kiss becomes more desperate. My cock, harder than it’s ever been, is pressed against her belly, and I know it won’t be patient much longer.
But hell, I need to be. I read her files, and I know she hasn’t been with another man. She’s pure. Innocent. And right now, I feel like a feral animal ready to devour my prey.
Her fingers thread through my hair and I carry her to the bed, laying her down, needing her on her back.
All I want in the goddamn world is my beautiful bride bare and before me. Seeing her in that damn bikini Huxley gave her has left my balls aching for the past twenty-four hours. And nothing, not a cold shower or my own hand could take that ache away. The only thing that will is Tia.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as I unbutton her pants, then slowly roll them over her hips and down her legs, tossing them on the floor. Her panties are so tiny it’s laughable, another gift from Huxley, I’m sure. I tear them off, not caring if they are shredded on the floor.
“So, damn beautiful,” I say, taking her in. Shit, the woman is perfect.
Stretched out on the bed, she looks up at me shyly, but does nothing to hide herself. Despite her innocence, she’s offering herself to me, which only makes her sexier.
I reach behind my back and pull my shirt over my head, then roll my pants and briefs over my hips, allowing my hard erection to spring free.
Her eyes go wide at the sight of my naked body, and
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “You’re so...”
“So what?” I ask, kneeling on the floor, pulling her knees to the end of the bed--not missing the fact that her gorgeous tits bounce as I move her closer.
“So big,” she moans, fingers fisting in the sheets.
The words make my face break out in a grin. I may be stoic, but I’m also a goddamn man, and I like what she has to say.
“I finally got you to smile,” she says, her lips curving up, playfulness in her eyes. And it does something to me. Something I’m not prepared for. Something that scares the shit out of me.
I nip the inside of her thigh, then trail my tongue across her seam, tasting her desire, and feeling her body ready for me.
She smells so fucking good. Tastes even better.
Her knees buckle as I devour her, and I feel her tremble beneath me. She’s close to coming. Good. I need her to. The more relaxed she is, the wetter her pussy, the easier it’ll be for her to accept my size.
She’s tiny, and I’m...not.
As my mouth works her clit, her fingers curl in my hair, and her little pants and whimpers have my balls so tight I swear I might explode before I even get the chance to be inside of her.
“Shit, Tia,” I groan out, tongue circling her swollen clit. At the same moment, her body spasms. Hips arching. Muscles tensing. She cries out and I nearly come at the sound of the pleasure rippling through her.
I hold still, not trusting myself to move.
Her breathing is harsh, uneven, and after a few seconds she says lightly, “I guess I should have complimented you sooner.”
I chuckle; my mouth still on her pussy, and the vibration makes her moan again.
God, my wife is responsive. I knew she would be. There’s an untamed wildness to her. One that stirs my own passion, but also sets off warning flares.
I want to stake my claim on her and not give a damn if everyone in the house knows it.
That’s a lie. I want them to know, know what she means to me. That she’s mine.
Dangerous thought, my brain warns. She’s not just yours.
But right now, she is. And right now is all that matters.