Taken

by Gwendolyn Casey

  “Okay,” I answer.

  He stands and comes to my side.

  “I’ll help you up.” He lifts the blanket and I see I’m wearing a plain gray t-shirt that is large on my small frame. After setting the blanket aside, he puts his arms under my shoulders and knees and lifts me slowly into sitting position. The action brings my face into his neck and I breathe him in. He smells good, even better than last night, and the scent is making my insides warm in a way I’ve never felt before.

  After he sets the tray in front of me, he picks up the spoon to start to feed me, but I stop him. “I think I can manage,” I utter with a small smile.

  He backs away to sit in his chair again.

  I take a sip and let the warmth move down my throat. I take a few more sips before licking my lips.

  Donovan continues to watch me, his blue eyes concerned but still fierce.

  “Can you explain what happened last night?” I ask.

  Donovan leans forward in the chair and settles his arms on his knees, clasping his hands together. “What do you remember?”

  “I remember falling asleep in the tent and then waking up in the cave.” I notice he is staring at my lips as the words come out. I lick my lips without thinking and I hear him suck in a breath.

  I continue, trying not to lick my lips again. “A wolf came in … and then something happened and suddenly you were standing there.”

  He remains silent.

  “So, you are a werewolf.” I say it confidently but I know there is a distinct possibility that I am crazy.

  But after a moment he responds, “Yes.”

  I lean back against the headboard, a bit overwhelmed. “I know you just confirmed what I saw, but I still can’t believe it,” I say, shaking my head. I will need some time to process that information, but I need to know the rest. “So, what happened in the cave? How did I get there?”

  “I brought you to the cave,” Donovan answers without elaborating.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are mine,” he responds simply.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I am getting a little frustrated with his answers. “So, you just drag me to some cave like a barbarian.”

  Once again there is nothing but stony silence as he looks back at me.

  “What happened last night?” I struggle not to scream at him.

  He stands and goes to the window, putting one arm against the frame as he looks out into the forest. The stance displays his height and strong torso to perfection. I cross my arms over my chest as I feel my body react.

  “During the full moon, the call to the wild can be powerful. When I knew that you were out there, I couldn’t stand the thought of waiting. I couldn’t stop myself from seeking you out.”

  So, it was a full moon last night. I guess that makes sense, but I still have my suspicions. “You don’t seem like the type of man to lose control,” I mention.

  He looks at me, his eyes confident and fervid. “No, I’m not,” he says and a strange silence settles between us. He just confirmed that he stole me because he wanted to. I’m not sure how to handle that fact.

  “When I found you, you were with that … boy.” He drops his arms and takes a step toward me, his fists clenching. “He had been touching you.” He snarls as the words come out.

  “Brandon? We are just friends.” I lie, but the anger simmers on Donovan’s face as if he sees right through the falsehood.

  His eyes narrow on mine. “You belong to me. I will kill any other man who dares to touch you.”

  His possessiveness sends flutters through my stomach. Part of me loves it, but another part is scared shitless. “You didn’t hurt Brandon, did you?” I ask softly.

  “No. My priority was claiming you.”

  I let out a breath, relieved that Brandon is still alive. Donovan may be a kidnapper, but not a murderer.

  “Claiming? Is that what happened in the cave?” I ask.

  He comes forward and moves the tray off my lap to set it on the night stand so he can sit on the bed by my side. He is so large that he blocks the sunlight coming from the window. He slowly reaches for my hand, cupping it gently in his roughened fingers, before looking me in the eye. “Yes. I claimed you as my mate.”

  I blink. “Mate?”

  His other hand moves to my neck and I hiss as I feel pain.

  He bit me. I had forgotten.

  “This binds us together as mates. You are mine and I am yours.”

  I shake my head because that is impossible. Like werewolves are impossible? My subconscious comments.

  I reach up and he removes his hand from the bite so I can touch it. The skin is tender and warm. “Is this why I was sick?”

  He nods once. “When I bit you, my saliva entered your blood stream. The fever was your body’s attempt to kill the virus that causes the mutation.”

  I quickly pull my hand from his. “Mutation?”

  “The change has already happened. You are like me, a werewolf.” He says it so simply, like it is no big change.

  I feel my heartbeat speed up. “Is there a way to undo it?”

  “No,” he grumbles. I know the question angers him but I don’t care.

  There is a rushing in my ears and the room starts to spin. “No. I can’t. This is a dream. I need to wake up,” I yell.

  Donovan cups my face with both hands. “Look at me, Mackenzie.”

  “What?” I say as my panic turns to anger.

  His face looks sad and regretful. “Calm down. I know you’re confused and angry, but give it some time.” His thumbs caress my cheeks as wayward tears begin to fall. “It is overwhelming, but so is the connection between us. I know you felt it.”

  My heart rate slows as I let myself breathe and consider his words. I did feel that connection in the gas station and even in the cave. I didn’t ask for the bite, but I was a willing participant in everything else. Even now, I feel a strange part of my soul reaching for him, wanting more of his touch and comforting voice. It is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

  The silence stretches between us as we simply look at each other. I take in his blue eyes with the yellow spikes and how they look back at me with concern and … devotion.

  But I’m still unsure. I need time to think, away from him.

  “Can I take a shower?” I ask.

  “Only if I take it with you,” he responds.

  I roll my eyes.

  He smirks at me. “You may not have the strength to stand on your own.”

  “Fine,” I mutter.

  He lifts the blankets off me and then picks me up bridal style to carry me into the bathroom. It is spacious with a stand-alone tub that seems extra-large on the left and a shower stall that takes up the entire far wall. To the right are matching sinks. The colors are mostly grays with white accents. When he puts me on my feet, I do feel unstable so I lean against the sink.

  “Your strength will return soon. Your body has been through a lot and is still recovering,” Donovan says.

  I nod and try to lift my shirt over my head, but Donovan takes over after my arms struggle to go above my head. Once the shirt is off, I’m completely naked. I look down to see my body has been marked with signs of a rough possession. My hips are bruised with his fingertips and I see scratches here and there.

  Donovan’s eyes wander down my body, but he doesn’t look sorry. In fact, I see heat in his gaze.

  I wonder briefly if he is going to have me again while he undresses. My battered pussy twitches at the sight of his chest and arms. I see my own marks that I left on him in the form of finger nail scratches across his arms and back.

  What has he done to me? I don’t feel like myself and if what he says is true then I’m not myself, I’m something different. I should hate him. I should fight him. But I still want him.

  He lifts me again and takes us both into the shower. The water is already warm when he turns it on and he places me under the spray to wet my hair and back. Then he grabs the liquid soap that smells lik
e him.

  He is slow and methodical, making sure every inch is covered in lather and massages my muscles as he goes. Then he turns me to face him so he can wash my hair. Before I know it, my face snuggles into his chest. I may be upset with him, but my body won’t stand any separation. I’ve never been this exposed to a man before. Somehow the shower feels more intimate than the sex.

  Donovan’s touch is almost reverent, as if I am something to be cherished. But I can still feel the desire flowing from his fingertips.

  He leaves my center for last, applying the same thoroughness to my pussy that he did everywhere else. He is gentle, but he adds the right amount of pressure to my clit as he cleans.

  He turns me around so I am facing the wall. I sag against him, my back to his front. One strong arm crosses in front of me to grip my waist, bringing me tight against him, while the other stays between my legs.

  “What are you doing?” I ask even though I already know the answer.

  “I can’t seem to help myself,” he whispers in my ear, his deep voice making the ache even worse.

  Then he is rubbing my clit harder and his other hand moves up to cup my breast, pinching my nipple so I gasp and arch my back. My hands find the wall and he snarls when my ass connects with his hard cock.

  I nudge back against him, wanting him to take me, but he just continues with his hands. Soon the pressure between my legs is too intense and I clench them together. My eyes are closed as I feel Donovan’s fingers wrap around my throat.

  “Come,” he commands, shoving two fingers into my cunt at the same time. The command rumbles into my ears and straight to my core where I clench around the intrusion and my orgasm breaks open. I cry out as it burns through my center and out to all my limbs.

  I’m only half aware as Donovan picks me up and wraps me in a towel. “You need to rest now,” he says as he carries me to the bed.

  He wants me to rest. Was that what the orgasm was for? So that I would be too sex drunk to disagree? Do I even have a say in what happens next?

  He lays me down and starts to lean away, but I hold on to him. “Kiss me,” I say.

  His brow furrows as he looks down at me.

  “You took my virginity, but you haven’t kissed me yet.”

  Donovan considers me for a moment and then leans in. His lips are soft and gentle. I feel more tingles move down my torso to pool in my center. I open my mouth to take him deeper, but he doesn’t move in. I want more, so I boldly stick my tongue into his mouth.

  He pulls away. “Mackenzie. You need to rest.”

  “No, I need you,” I demand.

  He looks down at me again with those burning blue eyes. I think my tone has brought Donovan’s wolf to the surface because he snarls, ripping the towel off me and pushing my legs apart. Before I know it, he is driving inside me. I’m wet from my earlier orgasm, but there is still pain as he stretches me open.

  He wastes no time with tenderness, pounding my pussy rough and hard. My inner muscles welcome the feeling of his thickness. Strange to think that my pussy has missed the feeling of him when it has only been a matter of hours.

  “Is this what you want, my mate?” Donovan grunts.

  I glare up at him, knowing this is a challenge. I took control by asking this of him and now I must take it all.

  I grip his hair and pull his lips to mine. It is a rough and dirty kiss with each of us demanding more from the other. Donovan slows his thrusts so he can concentrate on nipping and licking my tongue. I take the chance to open my legs wider and let him sink even deeper. We both groan, but don’t stop kissing.

  I flex my inner muscles as he grinds into me, making my insides catch on fire. He is hitting that spot inside me, making my back arch and my legs throb. I clench hard around him and he breaks the kiss to let out a roar.

  I smile up at him. “Is this what you want, my mate?” I utter in a low tone and bite my lip. I’m still not sure about the whole ‘mate’ thing, but I can’t help but tease him.

  He smiles back at me and stops completely to maneuver my legs over his shoulders. “This is what I want,” he says. Then he leans over me on his hands and starts to drive into me. My thighs burn in this position, but my pussy is enjoying the feeling of Donovan’s hardness plunging deep. My cunt is tighter this way so he fills it so much more and the downwards strokes make me feel like he is pounding me into the mattress.

  I’m so consumed with the sensations that I can do nothing but grip the sheets and whimper. My own sounds turn me on along with the satisfying slap of his balls against my ass as he drives into me.

  Every few strokes, he’ll bottom out and hold himself there, grinding against me to make sure I feel every inch of his rigid shaft.

  Soon I can feel my pussy start to spasm. “Please Donovan,” I scream.

  He lets out a deep laugh before he leans back onto his heels. My legs fall to his sides again but he grips my waist and keeps going hard and rough.

  I feel like a doll the way he is slamming my pussy on to his cock. But in this position, I feel him against my clit and my body is singing in perfect harmony, inside and out.

  “Donovan,” I shout as he sends me flying into orgasmic heaven. He continues to slam into me, prolonging the sensations. When he comes, he goes balls deep and I feel his warm liquid mark my insides.

  We stare at each other, both sweating and breathing heavily. I think we are both confused by what just happened.

  Donovan leans down slowly and kisses me. This one is soft and gentle, like the first one.

  Chapter Seven

  When I wake up again, I’m covered in the quilt but naked underneath. I think it is around noon since the sun is still shining outside the window. I’m alone in the room so I search Donovan’s drawers and pull on another one of his cotton t-shirts before going into the hallway. The voice of Bob Dylan leads me down a flight of stairs.

  I find Donovan in the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it is large with high-end appliances and granite counter tops. The rooms upstairs had drywall, but the downstairs has the walls of a log cabin.

  “Hi,” I say as I sit at the counter across from where he is cooking some eggs. His red and black flannel is open at the top, showing off his chest below his ruggedly handsome face.

  “Hi.” His voice still has that rough edge, like he is not used to talking very much.

  He gives me a gentle smile and I smile back awkwardly. So, this is what the morning after feels like.

  I’m still upset with him. Or maybe I’m upset with myself. He practically kidnapped me and changed me into … I don’t even know. Or even if it’s true.

  I should be trying to leave or asking more questions, but instead I’m just sitting here, watching his forearms and hands as he cooks. There is strange calmness that settles in between us as we sit listening to his iPod.

  I feel drawn like a magnet to this man. It’s exciting and frightening at the same time. My thoughts are swirling but I know one thing. I don’t want to leave, not yet. I need to find out more so I need more time.

  You need to call Rachel, my subconscious interjects.

  “I should call my friends. They are probably wondering where I am since I just disappeared last night,” I say.

  Donovan looks up from the stove. “Actually, that was two nights ago.”

  “What?”

  “The fever lasted over twenty-four hours.” He takes his iPhone off the dock and hands it to me. “You can call your friends and tell them whatever you want. Here is the address if you want them to bring your stuff.” I look down at the phone and piece of paper.

  “Mackenzie,” he says and I look up at him. “You’re not leaving.” He holds my gaze. His look is severe, ensuring that I don’t question him. His tone wasn’t threatening, more factual, like a king making a decree.

  He adds some cheese to the pan before he adds, “The reception is better outside.”

  I shiver slightly as I head out to the porch and I dial Rachel’s number.

  “He
llo.”

  “Rachel. It’s me, Mackenzie.”

  She gasps. “Oh, my God. Where have you been?”

  “I’m sorry. I went for a walk and ended up falling into a ravine.” I’m surprised how easily the lie came to me.

  “Oh my gosh. Are you alright?”

  “I hit my head and passed out. But a stranger found me and brought me back to his cabin. I’m all right now.”

  There was a long silence. “Why did you go for a walk?” she questions slowly. Rachel is not an idiot so I would have to sell this right.

  “I know it was stupid. I just couldn’t sleep.”

  “You’re damn right it was stupid,” Rachel yells. “I called the police and your parents. They are about to get a flight out here.”

  Shit. “I’ll call them as soon as I hang up.”

  “Okay. I’m just relieved you’re safe. So, where are you?”

  “I’ll give you the address, but can you do me a favor? Can you bring my bag and purse here?”

  “Shouldn’t you come back to the site?”

  “I’m still a bit shaky so I might stay one more night.” I look over my shoulder to see Donovan standing in the doorway.

  “Well, I wasn’t suggesting we stay at the site. We can find a hotel—”.

  “No. I’m fine here. You guys enjoy the rest of the day and night. We’ll talk again tomorrow before we leave.” I say ‘we’ even though I feel Donovan staring a hole into my back.

  “Okay. If you’re sure?”

  “I am.”

  I give her the address and I find out that Donovan’s house is on the opposite side of the park from the festival, several miles away from the camp site and town.

  Before we hang up I think of one last thing. “Don’t bring the guys when you drop off my bag.”

  “Why not?”

  “Trust me. It’s less complicated that way.”

  I quickly call my parents and, luckily, I’ve caught them before they got on the plane. There was a storm on the east coast that had grounded all flights for the last few hours. I give them the same lame story I gave Rachel and I get a speech from my dad about the dangers of wandering alone. After I promise to visit soon to assuage my mother’s worry, I finally hang up.