Captive

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Captive Page 23

by Trevion Burns


  She wanted nothing more than to be the only woman on Earth with the power to put him to sleep. To give him respite from the dark, cruel world they were entrenched in. Even if only for a few hours. She’d even offered to drive halfway toward their destination, but he’d refused. Not because he didn’t trust her, he’d insisted, but because he’d wanted the city they’d eventually arrive at to be a surprise.

  And what a surprise it had been. It still took Mia’s breath away, the view that greeted her as she eased open one of the tall glass balcony doors of the apartment they were now staying in. The gentle evening breeze instantly got hold of her hair, leaving it fluttering gently with the breeze as she peeked her head out, catching sight of Linc on the other end of the expansive terrace with his back turned to her.

  Though he was easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen or made love with, it wasn’t Linc’s broad back that took her breath away but instead, the sprawling city that winked at them from the fifteenth story balcony. The Eiffel Tower, sitting several hundreds of feet away, had been lit up, its bright yellow lights glowing against the navy blue sky. A sky that was growing darker by the minute as the sun said its final goodbye to the city, casting dark shadows across the smaller Parisian buildings scattered around the iconic tower.

  A part of Mia was dying to know who Linc’s friend was. The friend who obviously had money to burn and breathtaking apartments in some of the most beautiful cities on Earth. She’d asked him several times, but he’d remained tight-lipped, proving his loyalty to a man she was sure he would never name, no matter how badly she begged. As she looked upon Linc’s back, she also couldn’t help but wonder why, when they’d first fled London, he’d skipped Paris to head for Venice. Only to turn back around and go the opposite way when Malik’s goons had found them in Venice too. Perhaps it was purposeful. A way to throw them off his trail. Malik’s security team would assume they’d be running away, not back toward London. Mia couldn’t deny—if it was Linc’s strategy, it was pretty smart.

  Her eyes ran his back from where he stood before the white marble railing that surrounded the balcony. A railing that served as one of the many original finishes in the decades-old building. Exposed brick lined the walls outside of the top floor apartment, and a circular glass dining table sat on the patio’s far end, with a perfect few of the city as well as the Eiffel Tower.

  Linc’s back swelled in the long sleeved black shirt he wore. He had one hand in the pocket of his black sweatpants while the other held his cellphone to his ear. Mia smiled. Was black the only color of clothing that man owned? Further, why did he seem almost religiously opposed to any fabric other than denim and cotton?

  She didn’t have to time wonder about his abysmal fashion sense for much longer, however, because Linc’s deep voice rang in, and the words stopped her heart.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he growled into the phone at his ear—the breeze picking up wisps of hair from the sloppy bun he’d tied at the nape of his neck, making it dance in the night.

  Mia’s heart stopped as it became abundantly clear who he was speaking to.

  His shoulders squared as the person on the other line responded, and his voice came again, a little angrier than before. “Emma for Mia. Those are the stipulations. If I have to kill every bastard on your payroll, I will. Or you can stop with the goddamn games and give me my daughter.”

  Tears burned Mia’s eyes. She clenched her teeth to fight them away but the ball in her stomach, the one tightening every second, was still hard at work reminding her that the hurt wasn’t going away. If she stopped the pain glistening in her eyes from spilling over her cheeks, it would just re-manifest itself inside her. Gurgling in her stomach until it made her deathly sick. At that moment, the sickness in her stomach nearly took her to her knees.

  Linc was still giving her up.

  After everything they’d had together, he still saw her as disposable. She knew she couldn’t blame him. She knew she shouldn’t blame him. It was her, after all, that had begged him to make love to her just a few nights before. It was her who’d promised him that she understood it would always be Emma first. The more sensible part of her still understood that. But the less sensible part, the part that would always ache for another touch of his big, callused hands, another stroke of his warm tongue against her skin, and another taste of his full lips…. That part of her was on life support.

  She kept quiet when he hung up the phone, waiting for him to turn around and see if she’d heard everything. But he didn’t turn. Instead, he dialed another number and put the phone back to his ear.

  Then, for several minutes, nothing.

  Silence dominated.

  Mia wondered if the person he’d just called had picked up the phone and, for some odd reason, he wasn’t saying anything, or if the phone was still ringing. When another minute went by without him saying a word, even as his body ebbed and shifted, his chin falling to his chest and his grip on the phone tightening, she knew whoever was on the other line was speaking to him. The longer he listened, the more his shoulders relaxed.

  Then he hung up, dialed another number, and went through the same process. Not speaking, just listening. The hand in his pocket emerged, and he played a bronze coin between his fingers. The body of the coin glowed under the moonlight booming down from the rapidly darkening sky. His shoulders relaxed even more, phone still to his ear, and then he hid the coin in a fist. His head fell, and he ended the call.

  Mia swallowed thickly, letting a healthy amount of time pass before she stepped out of the door and began across the balcony. When she was a few feet away, Linc drew in a breath, and his eyes flew over his shoulder, locking to hers.

  His eyes softened. “Aye.”

  She tried to smile but felt it ringing false. “Hey.”

  He gave her a look of disbelief, along with a soft shrug of his shoulders. “How are you so beautiful?”

  She stopped walking a foot away from him, causing him to reach for her with a frown. He took hold of the black t-shirt she wore—his black t-shirt—the only thing she wore and currently swallowing her whole. He curled the shirt in his fist and pulled her forward.

  “Come here,” he demanded, voice but a whisper.

  He caught her lips when she stumbled forward, drawing the bottom one between his own. A moan rose up his throat the moment he tasted her.

  Mia couldn’t help but moan in return. She couldn’t help slinging her arms around his strong shoulders. She definitely couldn’t help every inch of blood that rushed to her center as he wrapped his muscled arms around her waist and pulled her body flush with his. Even as it raged with butterflies that were beginning to feel more like vultures, her soft stomach being pressed against his hard one was enough to carry her away from her thoughts. Even if only for a few precious seconds. A few breathless kisses.

  He pulled his lips away with a smack but kept his forehead pressed to hers, his eyes closed, his breathing deep, his nose angled next to hers and nuzzling it softly.

  The vultures in her stomach began to feast once more and, sensing death, she couldn’t bite her tongue. “Who were you talking to?”

  He pulled back, eyes flying open and meeting hers.

  She wondered if he’d lie to her.

  “It was, uh…” A lump moved down his throat as he looked down at the phone.

  Mia could already hear the answer in her head. I was talking Malik. Telling him that I’m still perfectly willing to throw you away. Even though you know what my dick tastes like. She felt her eyebrows rising like a mother who was daring her child to lie to her.

  He cleared his throat, reclaiming her eyes. “It was…. My mother. And Veda. I like to call sometimes. Hear their voices. Feels like home.”

  Not a complete lie. But not the whole truth either. Confirmation that not only was he planning to give her back to Malik, but that, deep down, he knew. He knew how much it would hurt her. So he lied by omission to spare her.

  But it was far too late to spare her
. Just like the first boyfriend she’d ever had, she realized, she was just another “fuck her and leave her” to Linc. Just another “fuck her and forget her.” Or, if she was being completely honest with herself, to Linc, she was just another “fuck her and trade her”. Like a markdown at a swap meet. A transaction at a trade show. Like a damn two-for-one deal at the Starbucks on every corner.

  She tried to fight her trembling chin and the lowering of her head, attempting to hide the color rapidly draining from her face. Regardless, her head fell.

  Linc’s pointer finger was under her chin the moment it did. He gave it a good nudge to lift her eyes back up to his. Thankfully, she was able to keep the tears still threatening her eyes at bay when their gazes met once more.

  He must’ve seen something though because his brows pulled tight.

  “Do you think Malik will find us again?” she asked, hoping the thought of Malik would distract him enough to stop the frown on his face from forming itself into a question.

  Finger still cradled under her chin; he searched her eyes. “If he does, we’ll be ready. If he wants a war, he’ll get one. Every goon he sends only ensures we have more guns for the next round.”

  We. Mia nearly smirked at his ability to use that word. To look her in the eye and pretend they were still a team. That they’d ever been a team. That he hadn’t just made the phone call confirming to Malik that the terms were still the same. That the bag full of guns he’d lifted from every goon who’d infiltrated the house in London was for them, and not just him.

  She looked off into the distance, at the breathing taking view, where the Eiffel Tower continued glimmering on the horizon, her voice full of longing. “If only we were just a couple of normal people.”

  “If only.”

  “I wish we could’ve explored Venice together. Paris.” She met his eyes with a small smile. “It would’ve been so romantic.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, then blinked softly while nodding up at her. “We will.” He promised. “One day.”

  She could feel her nostrils flare. He was just saying what she wanted to hear to placate her until the trade. Whispering promises he couldn’t possibly keep. With that damn look in his eye. A look that made promises all on its own. Promises that had fooled her with, right up until that very moment when she’d overheard the phone call he still hadn’t come clean about.

  She bit her bottom lip, and her eyes must’ve been moving to a faraway place along with her thoughts because he nudged her chin once more. She looked back up at him with a deep breath just as his lips descended on hers once more. He took one peck to ease her in, but the kiss went deep in an instant. His rock hard arms locked around her waist so tightly it nearly stole her breath. His head tilted far enough to break his neck as he spread his lips wide over hers as if trying to breathe her in. His arousal grew just as quickly as the kiss, which was well on its way to taking her breath away. Just as hard and demanding, pressed urgently against her thigh, as his tongue pushed past her parted lips.

  Since the moment he’d first had her in Venice, Mia had learned that, after going six years without a woman, Linc needed her several times a day. Even going so far as to stop the car—twice—during the drive from Venice to Paris and making love to her on the side of the deserted road when his excitement had proved too much to bear. Like a starving man on the verge of death who’d been offered a loaf of bread, he inhaled her like she was his last meal. Nothing was too nasty or off limits. On more than one occasion, when he was inside her, his passion, his power, had even come close to hurting her.

  But she didn’t mind the pain.

  Their lips broke apart with a smack just long enough for him to rip the black t-shirt over her head, revealing her naked body underneath. Before she could even blink, he seized her waist, yanked her forward, and drew her nipple into his mouth. He sucked voraciously, moaning around the bud as his tongue worked it in slow circles until it was hard. The vultures in Mia’s stomach were soon no match for the passion as his warm mouth worked bringing life to every prickling nerve ending in her body. A moan split her lips, as her hands buried in his hair, messing up his bun—moments from ripping the strands straight from his skull. When he moved his busy mouth from one nipple to the other, giving that opposite one the same love, she almost did. Her moans moved to gasps as he engulfed one dark brown nub between his lips while pinching the other between his fingers.

  He was still ready to trade her, and she was still reluctant. Reluctant to fall any deeper into her ardent fixation on a man who was destined to hurt her terribly.

  But Mia couldn’t deny her body. Even as her heart screamed no, her body was already his. Even as her heart cried danger, her body still leaned in as he abandoned her nipples. Her body still trembled with need when he continued rolling the hardened beads between his fingers as drew his warm kisses in a trail down her heaving stomach. Her legs still parted for him when he took his hot lips and tongue all the way down to her pulsing center, wrapping one leg around his big shoulder as he ate her out. The velvety wetness between her thighs still begged for more as he flicked his tongue against her clit, the sensation so incredible it turned every bone in her body into mush until she was literally sitting on his face.

  He bore her weight without complaint, lips and tongue nestled deep, moaning into her soaked pussy until she was writhing and groaning with pleasure. Stopping only when the orgasm he sent rocketing through her bones started to border on unbearable. Until she was tugging at the strands of his hair—not in ecstasy but in agony, her throbbing clit too sensitive to take another lick of his strong, ardent tongue or even another kiss from his lips.

  The world went nearly black as the aftershocks from her peak continued charging through her, and she hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed her ass, lifted her off her feet, and set her on the edge of the balcony until his lips were sealed to hers and he was shoving his sweatpants down just enough to free his dick.

  A wave of dizziness hit Mia at the need to have him inside her, and she locked her arms around his neck with a cry from the pit of her throat when he filled her to the hilt in one thrust, nearly causing her to tumble over the balcony edge. Their lips remained sealed as he fucked her with vigor. Their moans meeting between their heated lips and swirling tongues until Linc was moaning his own apex. Digging his fingers into the skin of her ass and back, holding her steady as he barreled in desperately, his lips only breaking away from hers when his orgasm caused him to lose control of every muscle in his body but his dick.

  Mia took every hit, her mouth wide open as his essence filled her—only hushed whimpers fluttering from her lips as he writhed and flinched inside her. She held him when he collapsed into her chest, spent. Stroking the tips of her fingers in soft circles around his back, up and down his arms, and into his hair until his frantic breathing slowed.

  Once he gathered himself, he clutched the railing on either side of her body and brushed his cheek against hers.

  He didn’t even pull back far enough to look at her before he’d tilted his head and engulfed her lips with his. Mia sank into the fervent kiss, returning it with just as much fire, as he held the back of her neck for leverage and dove as deep as he physically could.

  He pulled back with what looked to be great regret, took a deep breath, and let his eyes blink slowly open.

  The moment their gazes met, she knew he could see it in her eyes.

  That the carnal world they’d just fallen into, the world where she couldn’t yet resist him was quickly ebbing out of her reach. Replaced with watery eyes, drooping shoulders, and a grimace that lingered indefinitely.

  His cupped the back of her neck with his own gentle frown, rubbing the pad of his thumb over what she assumed were deeper than normal lines that had drawn themselves across her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened at his, but she managed to bite back the truth, knowing it was unfair. It was unfair to be angry with him. To punish him. It was
unfair to hold something against him that, just a few days earlier, she’d told him she was completely okay with. It was unfair to care and to expect the same in return from a man whose daughter was on the line.

  So, just like he had with the phone call to Malik, she lied by omission.

  “I’m happy.” She cupped his jaw as the first tear popped her eye and jetted down her cheek.

  He caught it with his thumb, still frowning.

  “You make me really happy.” She nodded.

  Not a total lie, but not the complete truth either.

  He must’ve known it because even as the concerned frown slowly left his face, it was still ever present in his eyes. Regardless, he didn’t press her. He didn’t fight to reach the depths of the real truth—the truth he could see in her eyes too.

  He let it go.

  Just like he would let her go.

  31

  Just as naked as she had been when he’d woken her in the middle of the night, undressed her, and taken her in the very bed she lay in, Mia stirred awake the next morning. The moment her sleepy eyes opened, however, she slammed them closed again, hardly able to bite back a groan. Not because the sun rising over the Paris skyline was sending strong wisps of blinding sunlight shooting into the downstairs window of the loft apartment. Not because her marred foot still hurt—it was actually feeling much better. Not even because some of the powerful rays of sunlight were ricocheting off the stainless steel appliances in the updated kitchen below, making it seem ten times brighter, like a laser surgeon trying to correct her blurry vision. No, she slammed her eyes closed the moment they opened because she’d caught sight of Linc, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweats, across from her in the upstairs loft, reclining in a leather sitting chair with his foot up propped up on the small table in front of it.

 

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