Taken_A Dark Romance Collection

by JB Duvane

  I didn’t waste any time moving into position, though. I moved my body up over hers, my hips forcing their way back in between her thighs as I watched her recover from the ecstasy I’d had the pleasure of giving to her. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look into mine and I felt a rush of energy pulsate through my body as I gently rocked my hips into her. Our eyes were locked on each other and she gripped my arms tightly as I entered her, slowly at first but then with a burst of animal energy that sent her head flying back and caused the most amazing moan to escape from her open mouth. I pulled her wrists over her head and held them down as I moved my knees underneath her and drove myself into her deeper and deeper. With each thrust, her entire body shook and convulsed and her head rolled back into the pillow. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

  As much as I wanted to close my eyes and experience this amazing new sensation, I couldn’t tear them away from Abby. I was enthralled by the way she looked as she moved her head from side to side, sometimes with her eyes closed but then suddenly opening them wide and screaming my name out. With every movement I made inside of her she looked more beautiful and provocative, but also more fragile and delicate. While I was inside her I was overcome by two almost completely opposite desires that I had never experienced together before. One part of me wanted to completely own her, to possess and dominate everything that she was, and the other part wanted to protect her and keep her safe by surrounding her with my own body.

  The feeling of being inside Abby was more incredible than I could have ever imagined. So unbelievably soft and warm but there was also a pressure that felt like it was gripping me and almost pulling me into her. Then every few seconds there would be an even firmer pull that felt like she was squeezing me from inside.

  I continued to watch her as an intense pleasure welled up inside me. The warm, familiar, tingling buzz that spread from deep inside my pelvis and flowed throughout my entire body and out of each of my limbs, was increased by a thousand times now that I was finally inside Abby. I felt her legs tighten around me as she grabbed my ass and pushed me further and further inside her with each of my thrusts, and everything just seemed to come to a complete stop. All I could see was Abby, her beautiful face with those amazing eyes looking back at me, and I knew it was her. I only wanted her.

  As I slowed and eventually stopped thrusting inside her, she loosened her grip and fell back onto the bed. I watched her for a minute, then slid off of her and rolled onto my side next to her, pulling a blanket over both of us, covering her and encircling her with my entire body.

  As we lay together I couldn’t stop touching her and kissing her. I ran my fingers through her beautiful hair and kissed every inch of her face while I watched her catch her breath. Eventually, her eyes opened and she immediately looked at me, smiling and gazing at me with the most glorious expression I had ever seen in my life, and those incredible, sparkling eyes.

  “Jake, oh my God. That was…you were…you’re amazing,” she said as she wrapped her hand around the back of my head and pulled me toward her. She kissed me so gently it almost felt like a feather brushing up against me and as I felt myself tear up, I buried my head in the pillow next to her and laughed out loud.

  “What is it, Jake?”

  “Oh, nothing. I think this is just a little emotional for me. Just give me a minute.”

  Abby pulled my head up and held it between both of her hands and wouldn’t let me look away.

  “Don’t feel like you have to apologize to me or hide anything from me. I want to be with you, Jake. All of you.”

  I let the tears fall down my cheeks as I curled up to her again, wrapping myself around her. I couldn’t believe what an amazing woman she was, and that she was here with me.

  “I love you, Abby. And I want you too,” I said as I kissed her cheek and nuzzled my way under her hair and whispered “All of you.”

  I felt her body turn to jelly as I continued to tell her all the things we were going to do together, starting with what I was going to do to her in just a few minutes. I smiled as I took my time and told her about all of my plans in as much detail as possible, because I knew how much she loved it when I whispered in her ear.

  The End

  About Colin: A Serial Killer Romance

  Beauty is his obsession ...

  Colin:

  It started with the mannequin heads.

  They were my escape, my solace, my companions in the darkness.

  But the day came when they weren't enough. That's when I started taking the girls.

  But Avery? She's not like the others.

  She's beautiful -- so beautiful -- but I can't hurt her.

  I need to keep her with me ... forever.

  Avery:

  He should terrify me.

  I'm his prisoner.

  I've seen what he did to the others. How can I believe him when he says he won't hurt me?

  But there's more to him than darkness. There's a terrible sadness.

  And strange as it sounds, a kind of beauty.

  I wonder if I can ever make him see himself the way I do?

  PLEASE NOTE: This is a dark romance with violent and unsettling themes of an adult nature that some may find disturbing. Colin: A Serial Killer Romance is a standalone novel of 66k words with a HEA.

  Chapter 1 - Colin

  These lips ... oh God, they're perfect ... the beautiful tapered curves and lines ... so ... perfect ... so ... mesmerizing ...

  "So, I asked him what he thought and he just wouldn't tell me. I tell you that man makes me crazy ...."

  They're all different ... all unique ... but these lips ... these ones are absolutely perfect ... there's no comparison. The sharp edges ... and the color...

  "Well, what do you think, Colin? I trust your opinion."

  "I think you always look fabulous, Mrs. Fields," I said as absentmindedly I continued to stare at the woman's lips.

  So small and delicate ... but screaming to be noticed ... how can such beautiful lips even exist ...

  "If I ever heard my husband say that to me I'd fall over dead."

  "Please hold still, Mrs. Fields, I'm almost done."

  I want them ... these perfect lips ... if only I could ...

  "Ouch!"

  I was barely aware that a woman was sitting in front of me until she flinched.

  "Sorry about that, Mrs. Fields. I'll try to give you a bit more warning next time."

  My gaze left the perfect lips as my eyes moved down the length of her body and I slowly snapped back into reality.

  Pink wool suit with big white buttons ... stocking covered legs and feet ... am I at home? Is this someone I brought to my home? I thought to myself in a state of confusion.

  My eyes moved up to the wall that I was facing, but I only looked at myself in the lightbulb framed mirror for a second before quickly looking back down at the woman in the reclined beauticians chair in front of me.

  No, I'm not at home ....

  "Oh, don't worry about that, sweetie. If you warned me about every hair you had to pluck out of my face I'd be in this chair all day. Not that I would mind," she said as she looked up at me, her head upside down and tilted back towards me. "I absolutely adore coming to see you at the salon. You always make me feel like a queen."

  I was now officially back from wherever I had disappeared to ... wherever it was that I went when I become lost in my ... hobby, I guess you'd call it.

  "Very few things give me more pleasure than what I do here, Mrs. Fields. And you are a queen, don't ever forget that."

  "Oh, Colin!" she said as she blushed a little. A very becoming reaction for a woman her age.

  "You're are such a handsome young man, Colin. You must have a girlfriend."

  I ignored her question and elevated the back of the chair so that she was sitting upright and her feet were back down on the ground.

  "Let me get you back to the hair washing sink, then we'll talk about how you want me to set your hair today.
I'm hoping you'll let me try something new to emphasize that heart shaped face of yours."

  "Oh, Colin, you really are a naughty boy. You've never told me a single thing about yourself, and here I am yapping away about my life for hours on end."

  "What can I say? I love listening to you, Mrs. Fields. Now let's get you over to that sink."

  As she stood up and transferred herself over to a wheeled chair that I used while I was washing hair I heard a voice from the doorway behind me.

  "Colin, you've got a walk-in."

  I turned to the door and saw Jade, the salon receptionist, standing in the doorway with a young, beautiful girl. Jade turned and disappeared around the corner, leaving the girl standing there looking around like a lost puppy. She also looked incredibly nervous and I smiled as I watched her shift from one foot to the other.

  "Hey there, what can I help you with?" I said, my focus zeroing in on the girl's eyes, but more specifically, her eyelashes.

  They're perfect.

  I looked away quickly as I continued to push Mrs. Fields through the doorway into the back room, but I knew exactly what was going to happen.

  Later ... tonight ...

  "Come on back, I've got another appointment this afternoon, but I can squeeze you in," I said as I looked back and winked at her, relishing the red glow that spread across her face.

  "Well ... um ... my friend sent me here. She said you could do my hair and that I should tell you that Marcy sent me. She said ... well she said it wouldn't cost a whole lot?"

  There it was, that uptick at the end of the sentence. That was one of the things I looked for in the girls I took home. It wasn't the only thing I kept an eye out for, but it was definitely something I had picked up on over the years. A pattern of speech that screamed insecure and easily abducted. She might as well have been raising her hand and saying "Take me!"

  I smiled to myself at the thought of having someone to take back to my house today. I didn't think today was going to be the day, but then again I never do. It always just happens out of the blue, like a gift from the universe, and I always just roll with it. But it had been so long since I'd had a girl come in and tell me that Marcy sent her that I was starting to think that that ship had finally sailed.

  It doesn't have to happen, you know. I don't have to do it.

  "Sure, no problem. You can wait back here until I've got her under the dryer and we'll see what we can do for you," I said as I gave her another little smile and wink.

  "What's your name?"

  "Leah," she said with a more relaxed expression. She was finally starting to loosen up some and even gave me a little bit of a smile.

  That's right, I thought as I turned the faucet on and ran the shower of warm water through Mrs. Fields hair. It was all part of the whole game for me. The first few steps thrilled me just about as much as the finale. Getting a girl from nervous to relaxed to giggling with just a smile and a few well crafted sentences made me feel like I was flying. Hell, even just getting the girls to come in to see me, I still couldn't get over how easy it was. Even after all these years they still flocked to me like flies to honey. It was an incredibly powerful feeling to see the effect I had on her, especially since I knew just how nervous she really should be.

  "I think I just need a trim. Nothing fancy," I heard her say behind me as she slipped into the beautician's chair.

  "Ok, Leah, just wait here and I'll be back in a few minutes," I said as I wrapped a towel around Mrs. Field's head and looked back at the girl who was now somehow dwarfed by the beauticians chair.

  Do you see how young she looks? Maybe she's a runaway ... even better....

  "Maybe we can even give you a new style, no extra charge," another lie punctuated by another sexy smile. No wink this time though. I didn't want to overdo it.

  As I wheeled Mrs. Fields into the front room my field of vision was almost completely obscured by the girl's eyelashes. That's exactly what I needed. Those eyelashes.

  I don't have to do this. I know I don't have to.

  Mrs. Fields got up and sat down in the stylist's chair and I unwrapped her head slowly, removing the damp towel a little at a time as I scrunched it around the woman's wet hair, completely unable to get the image of those lashes out of my head.

  Yes, you don't have to ... but, those eyelashes. Didn't you see those incredibly long eyelashes? And the way they curled up so perfectly?

  I could feel them behind me, the lashes that surrounded those beautiful eyes. They were just waiting for me, through the doorway and just inside and to the right. If I took a couple steps back and turned my head just a little bit I would see them, but I forced myself to look down at Mrs. Fields, at her eyelids and her eyelashes. Nothing special there. Mrs. Fields had fabulous lips but her eyes were wrinkled and bloodshot. I wasn't looking for that. I was looking for perfection.

  Besides, I would never take one of these older women home with me. It's not that they weren't beautiful. Some of them were gorgeous; still holding onto the stunning features that they believed had carried them throughout their lives. But they all had husbands and families that would notice right away if they went missing.

  They made appointments and paid with checks and credit cards that could be traced, and there was no way I was going to risk that. But these girls, the young ones that came in without appointments, the walk-ins that told me "Marcy sent me," they paid in cash. There was no evidence whatsoever that they had ever even set foot in here and this salon was always so busy that no one would remember a young girl that didn't have an appointment.

  I closed my eyes and focused on the hypnotic rhythm of the towel scrunching around Mrs. Fields wet hair and when I opened them up again I hoped against hope that my mind would be changed about the eyelashes on the girl in the chair, but it was too late. I already knew exactly what was going to happen to her.

  Now I just needed a plan. I had two more appointments that afternoon and it was Saturday so the salon was extremely busy. No one usually bothered me down in my basement studio, except Jade when she was bringing me a walk-in, but since today was so crazy I couldn't count on anything. I knew once I got Mrs. Fields under the hairdryer I would have time to at least get Leah into the hair washing sink and, if I was lucky, maybe even out the back door. I just had to hope that my three o'clock wouldn't show up early.

  I quickly combed out Mrs. Fields hair and pulled out the curlers and setting lotion. I had just laid everything out on the counter when I felt a presence behind me and closed my eyes.

  "You are just going to hate me, Colin, but I'm a half hour early for my appointment."

  It wasn't my imagination. The voice came from behind me and I didn't even have to turn around to know that my next appointment was standing in the doorway.

  Bitch, you are not going to ruin my plans.

  "My husband dropped me off on the way to a golf game, and you know how horrible he can be when he wants to play. I can wait out front if you're too jammed up back here, dear."

  I took a deep breath and waited a few seconds for the blood to return to my head before I put on my sexiest smile and turned to the stylish, fifty-year-old woman in the doorway.

  "That's probably a good idea, Mrs. Anderson. I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in one of the chairs up front and I'll come and get you the minute I have Mrs. Fields under the hairdryer. Ask Jade for a cup of coffee while you're waiting," I said to her with that god-awful fake smile still plastered to my face.

  "Of course, Colin. I'll get out of your hair," she said with a little wave as she sashayed around the corner.

  If I was going to do this, I had to do it soon. I couldn't waste any more time.

  I rolled Mrs. Fields hair up as quickly as possible while responding to her inane chatter with as mundane of words and phrases as possible just in case she was paying attention to my responses. I was usually able to keep the attentive stylists facade up very believably, but I was distracted. I couldn't stop thinking about those eyelashes.

  I we
nt over and over the steps in my head, my thoughts racing and looping and my heart pounding, even though I'd done this exact routine dozens of times.

  Hot towel, anesthesia, laundry bag, unlock back door, put body through door, make sure door is locked again ... everything as quickly as possible ... make sure no one is around ... no one sees.

  Over and over and over the words played in my head, almost to the rhythm of the rolling and pinning of the curlers.

  I didn't understand how this had all come together so perfectly, but maybe some part of me knew it would all along. Was that even possible? Was it possible that maybe even when I got up this morning that I somehow knew that a girl was going to come in and ask for a ten dollar haircut because her friend Marcy had sent her to me. Or rather, her friend that had told her to tell me Marcy sent her.

  Marcy sent me ....

  Marcy was long gone now, but somehow she was still working her ass off for me, sending me these young, poor girls who just needed a cheap haircut or some make-up for an audition. They probably weren't all aspiring actors, but putting those ads in the trade papers like I did when I started out was genius. It helped build up my clientele over the years, but it also still ensured a steady stream of young, hapless but gorgeous girls who were trying to enhance their natural beauty for a good price. They slipped in and slipped out, virtually unnoticed and I happily squeezed them in, in between my higher paying clients.

  Those old ads had somehow become word of mouth among young actresses and college students, and maybe even prostitutes as I sometimes suspected, that were just starting out. Somehow word of a cheap haircut at a high end salon traveled quickly, and to places I had never expected.

  Of course, I didn't use all of the girls that came my way through that system. In the beginning there were just too many, but over time the walk in traffic had slowed considerably. But honestly, I didn't always find something I needed off of every single girl that walked into my studio. Besides, taking girls to my home and preparing their parts for use wasn't something I always had the time or inclination for.