by Alexa Riley
No matter, though. Rixen hefted her up, and without a single toe touching the ground, she was impaled by his thick sex against the door. With such force, the whole wall seemed to shake, along with her womb. Her vocal cords vibrated, too, her scream hanging in the air like a cloud of mist. It wasn’t any normal scream, however. No, it had a name.
“Daddy.”
Sunk inside her to the hilt, Rixen stilled and bared his teeth. “Say it again, Morgan. Who is the master of this pussy? Who will breed you at his will?”
“Daddy,” she sobbed, her intimate muscles tightening up around him. A flood of heat raged through her pooling where their bodies joined. She needed relief. Needed him. Needed so bad. “Rixen. Please!”
His forehead pressed to hers, his hips beginning a slow, teasing fuck where she needed fast, hard, mean. But the light hazel of his eyes drew her in. So much intensity there. “Why did you do this here?”
“Because I needed you,” she said in a rush, climbing his hips with restless thighs, trying to entice him into thrusting. Hard enough that she would see stars. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Tell me all of it, my gift.”
Morgan made a frustrated sound. “Because you’re special. You’re important. You’re more than worthy of me, and I wanted them to know it. I wanted them to hear it.” Rixen gave her a single hard drive and she cried out, her heels digging into the meat of his ass. “B-but now I can’t think of anything but you. There’s just you.”
Their eyes locked and something turned over in Morgan’s chest. Something huge and scary. Wanting to avoid it and focus simply on the pleasure, she leaned in and coaxed Rixen’s sculpted mouth into a kiss. A kiss that quickly turned into a frenzy, his hips bucking in time with his tongue, the slant of his head.
“My Morgan,” he rasped in between a hurried meeting of tongues. “I thought my maker would send me a mere partner. A suitable mate. Instead I’ve found the missing piece to my soul. I’ve found my reason for being on this earth.”
Her heart squeezed hard enough to steal her breath. “Rixen…”
“Shhh. We have time to speak of these things.” He groaned into a door-rattling thrust. Then another. Another. “Now I must breed you. Your body demands it.”
“Does it?”
He pressed their cheeks together and gave an uneven nod, his breath turning labored. “Close your eyes. Feel how your cunt begs Daddy to fill it with his come.”
Those words alone had the power to push Morgan over the edge, but with the last of her coherency, she did as Rixen asked. Because obeying him in this position felt natural. Felt right. Not to mention hot. Her eyelids fell, her focus dropping to their joined lower bodies. And oh my God, Rixen was right. Her sex clenched and rippled around him, stroking him to release without a formal command from her brain. It worshipped him, tightening and releasing around the incredible length of his manhood, root to tip. Begging.
“Don’t make me beg too hard, Daddy,” Morgan whispered, arching her back. “I have the taste of you in my mouth, now I want it everywhere.”
That set him off, his hips brutalizing her with a wicked pace. Again, she heard whispers on the other side of the door but ignored them. Could think of nothing else but Rixen’s hardness filling her over and over, smacking her bottom up against the door with the force of his movements. “My seed will drip down your legs as we walk home. You will smile and leave it to dry in the sun.”
“Yes, Daddy!” she screamed, the tide inside her beginning to rise. “Give me it.”
Rixen tossed back his head and roared, giving her three final pumps, before grinding her into the door with his huge member—and the world fragmented around her. Again, she screamed, her muscles seizing, entire body shaking where she remained pinned like a rag doll against the door by her big enforcer. In the throes, Rixen socked a fist into the wall beside her head, his jagged moan accompanying the sluicing sound between their bodies. Bodies melded, trying to climb inside one another. Rixen gave another stuttered thrust. Another. He shook violently and in turn, so did she. Wet heat flooded Morgan and she swore she could feel her body absorbing as much as possible. Desperately. Craving the planting of Rixen’s seed. When she thought he’d finished, he only kept her thighs aloft in strong hands, slowly fucking into Morgan the rest of what he had inside himself.
He looked her in the eyes while he did it. While her body clamored to keep what he gave her. “Rixen,” she breathed.
“Morgan.” He smacked a fist to his left pec, right over his heart. “My Morgan.”
She could only nod, the future still unclear…but slowly beginning to take shape.
No one would ever make her feel this safe, this loved, this desired ever again. It just didn’t happen twice. Her youth and inexperience didn’t matter—it was fact. This thing between them was not typical. It was…amazing.
“Take me home,” she said, laying her head on his chest.
Inside it, Rixen’s heart thundered. “Always, my gift.”
They took a while to get dressed and hold each other, Rixen unable to stop kissing her neck, face and knuckles, his smile coming more and more easily. And minutes later, Morgan couldn’t admit to more than a little smugness when Rixen carried her limp body past his brothers and out the door, neither one of them sparing the idiots a glance.
Chapter Eight
Rixen
The next twenty-four hours were the happiest of Rixen’s life. Morgan seemed to relax once they left his brother’s home. He stopped fearing she would run every time he turned his back or left the room. Every once in a while, he even caught her watching him. Lustfully. A fact he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. This angel with big turquoise eyes and a compassionate heart wanted him. Wanted his cock inside her at all hours of the day, to be exact.
In between lazy conversations about their childhoods and favorite foods, books and hobbies, Rixen fucked her every time his dick got hard. Which was frequent. It didn’t help that her only tank top was now stretched out from their rough play at his brother’s home. Now it barely covered her delicious pink nipples. Her thighs, her mouth, her scent, her voice. All of these things proved too tempting over and over again. Sometimes Morgan would be mid-sentence, telling him about something called Real Housewives and Rixen would have to unzip his pants to accommodate his growing length. She was simply too beautiful, too good to be true, too tight between her thighs. One day they would make it to nightfall without Rixen having to molest her on the closest flat surface while she screamed and clawed at his shoulders, but he suspected it might take years. His sac seemed to fill twice as fast now that she’d arrived, his desire to get her pregnant fierce and undeniable.
Morgan seemed deep in thought now as she sat on his lap at the kitchen table, draped in one of his T-shirts. He simultaneously fed her bites of a cheese omelet, swallowing hard every time she moaned around the fork, already knowing it would be time for another fuck soon. She was freshly showered and soft and fragrant. The small curve of her bottom sat snug and tight on his dick, the sweet crack he’d licked just hours ago cradling his growing bulge. This time she would receive him face down, so he could spread her cheeks and watch her back entrance clench as he rode her. He’d hook his pinkie finger inside that untested place—
Enough. Lord, he was depraved. Fuck hungry for his mate. Morgan seemed to enjoy taking him often, but he shouldn’t squander his gift. He should cherish her. Not slake himself on her every chance he got. Feeling the need to thank her, worship her, Rixen cleared his throat.
“I will build you a dark room, Morgan. A place to develop your photos.” He tugged her closer and buried his nose in her still-damp hair. “The chemicals will not be easy to come by out here, but I will have someone place the order in town. I’ll make it happen.”
Excitement built in her expression. “I would love to see the shots I took yesterday on our walk.” She twisted on his lap to face him and Rixen swallowed a groan. “I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing the ones of you, too.”
A knot formed in his throat. “Every time you bring up yesterday, I think of what you said to me. How you defended me in your own way.” He wrapped her hair in a fist and tilted her head back, listening to his heartbeat grow rapid in his ears. “My brave, beautiful angel. Do you understand that I’m obsessed with you?”
Her lips parted on a breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “I also understand I could be pregnant. I was on the pill, so that first time seemed safe, but now I’ve missed two and…” Her laugh held a touch of disbelief. “I should be way more worried. Why am I not way more worried, Rixen?”
This was the first he was hearing about a pill and didn’t like knowing she’d been prevented from nurturing his seed in the beginning. It made him all the more anxious to part her legs and fill her with more. More. Again and again. “You are not worried because you know I will provide for what is mine. My family.” He tugged her face close for a kiss, their tongues meeting first, mouths sliding into a writhing dance. After a moment of the incredible torture, Rixen pulled away. “Is it possible you are becoming obsessed with me, too, my gift?”
“I don’t know what I’m beginning to feel. Scared…but alive,” she murmured. “I just know that every second that passes, the more this feels like home. The more you feel like home.”
Rixen’s chest swelled with satisfaction, but he didn’t let himself get carried away. He wouldn’t rest until Morgan’s happiness was no longer confusing to her. Until her smile was easier, less hesitant. When she’d arrived, he didn’t know if her total contentedness was possible, but now he believed. She’d made him believe, by trusting him, defending him. Believing him to be worthy. “That makes me very happy, Morgan,” he rasped. “I only want to make you happy.”
“I know,” she murmured, searching his face. “I-I’m starting to think you can.”
They fell into another winding kiss that knocked the breath out of Rixen. He grasped her around the waist and turned her in his lap to face him and—goddamn it to hell. The sweet pressure of her tight cunt rocking on the ridge of his flesh gave him life. The chair creaked beneath them as she worked him into a lather, her fingers linking behind his neck as she leaned back, giving him a view of their lower bodies grinding together. Naked pussy on denim.
“Call me by my name,” he demanded.
Her breathing hitched as she leaned in and clung to him, her hips pumping faster now, his little angel fucking herself on him to an orgasm. “Daddy. Daddy.”
As always, when she called him by that title, victory broke loose in his gut. Rixen gripped her butt cheeks and squeezed hard, helping her move, earning a grateful moan. “What else?”
She laid her open mouth on his neck, whimpers and gasping falling past her lips. “Breeder. M-my breeder.” He sensed a dam giving way inside her. “Breed me, Daddy. I want it. I want it. I can’t help it.”
With a growl, Rixen surged to his feet, slapping her ass down on the kitchen table and reaching down to unzip his jeans. When he took out his cock, semen sprayed from the top, coating the back of his hand and her thighs. Need her. Need Morgan. He guided the moist head of his cock toward her waiting pussy—
A knock at the front door went through the room like a gunshot. Rixen paused with his cock in his hand for a moment, before performing the painful task of stowing his erection away and zipping his jeans. “It’s probably one of my brothers.”
“Oh.” Still breathing heavy, Morgan rolled her eyes adorably. “Hooray. Break out the good china.”
“So feisty,” he breathed at her mouth, tugging the shirt down to hide her sweet cunt. “Save that spirit for your daddy so he can enjoy it later.”
Pink-cheeked, Morgan nodded and slid off the table. Rixen couldn’t help stealing another kiss before heading to the door. But what he heard next stopped him in his tracks.
“Police. Open up.”
His inner peace shattered in an instant, leaving him in turmoil. Where a moment ago, he was a man with no concerns, save winning the love of a woman…he was now an animal defending his mate. Keeping his mate. At all costs.
If he’d had more time with Morgan, maybe he wouldn’t have panicked. Maybe he wouldn’t have feared for the worst—that she would leave with the police. Or consider their arrival a rescue. So many maybes. But it boiled down to this. No one was taking Morgan away from him. Not even Morgan herself. And he couldn’t risk it happening. Not with his very sanity at stake.
With a roar building in his chest, Rixen wheeled around to find Morgan watching him wide-eyed across the kitchen. She didn’t know whether to leave or stay—Rixen could see it in her eyes. No. No. They just needed more time.
They didn’t have it, though, so he would buy it the only way he could.
Already knowing the damage his actions would cause, but no idea how to avoid it, Rixen stormed toward Morgan and scooped her up, hastening toward the bedroom. He hesitated at the closet door, before kicking it open and depositing her inside.
“Rixen, what are you doing?”
It anguished him to ignore her, but he focused on tearing a strip off the closest shirt in his closet and gagging her beautiful mouth with it. Tears lay unshed in her beloved turquoise eyes, ripping his soul in half. Mistake. This is a mistake. His heart knew it, but his fear of losing her overwhelmed everything in its path. “I am sorry, but I can’t risk you leaving me, my gift. It will be over soon. I just need more time with you.” Another knock at the door. Louder this time. “Please understand.”
Hating the betrayal on her face, he closed her in the closet and went to face the police.
A man was mid-knock when Rixen opened the door. Him and his partner immediately stepped back, their hands moving to hover over their weapons. Rixen only watched them in silence, his hatred for them mounting. Hatred for shattering the growing happiness between him and Morgan. For forcing Rixen to betray her trust.
A voice in the back of Rixen’s head told him they’d forced him to do nothing. That his own fears and insecurities had hurt his mate’s feelings. But he ignored the voice and focused on his anger. These men would not separate him from Morgan. No one would unless he was cold and dead in the ground.
“What do you want?”
At the low timbre of Rixen’s voice, the men backed up farther. The one in front appeared braver, however, wetting his lips to speak. “There was a car broken down about two miles back at the road. A girl was driving it. Young. Reddish-blonde hair. Goes by the name Morgan.” The cop’s eyebrows went up. “Odds are she didn’t make it this far without getting snapped up by a gator, but we’re performing our due diligence. You wouldn’t have happened to come across a young thing out this way? Have you, mister…”
“Rixen,” he snapped, annoyed by having another man describe his woman’s appearance. “No. There has been no one.”
It was then that he noticed where the second cop was focusing his attention. In his haste to hide Morgan and answer the door, Rixen had forgotten to don a shirt. Scratch marks left behind by Morgan crisscrossed his chest, arms, neck, shoulders. Hell, they could probably smell the sex on him. He’d fucked her at least six times since his last shower.
There wasn’t a chance in hell these men would believe the mating had been consensual. No. They had eyes. In their minds, a man like him could never persuade a gorgeous female like Morgan to open her thighs. Not without force.
“Her mother is very worried about her.” Their hands crept closer to their weapons. “How’s about we come take a look inside?”
Rixen propped his hands on either side of the doorframe. “Do you have a warrant?”
Silence ticked past. “You can bet we’ll be back with one.”
He didn’t budge from the doorway until both cops took their leave, their suspicion and alarm lingering in the air. As soon as they’d gained the clearing and left in their squad car, Rixen locked the door and moved at a fast clip toward the bedroom, guilt like a manacle around his neck. His poor Morgan. Would she hate him? Was she uncomfortable?
No. Sh
e was neither of those things.
She was gone.
Chapter Nine
Morgan
Morgan ran at full speed through the bayou, leaping over downed trees and dodging hanging vines. Tears clogged her throat and made it difficult to see. How could he? How could he put her in a closet and lie to the police? Especially after they told him her mother was worried? Selfish man. Selfish monster.
The mental accusation made her feel bad, which was proof she’d lost her fucking mind! How could she have sympathy for a man who’d gagged her and locked her in a closet? He was a kidnapper, through and through. And she’d been a complete idiot for forgetting it. Worse than that, she’d…she’d fallen for him. Even now she could be carrying the man’s baby. Why did that give her a warm, happy feeling? She should want to shoot off his massive dick for trying to get her pregnant without so much as a conversation about the future.
There was a rustling in the brush to Morgan’s right and she skidded to a halt, her sides heaving with exertion. This was literally the worst episode of Naked and Afraid ever. Because in her shirt and no panties, that was essentially her condition. If she didn’t have malaria and a bite taken out of her by the time she reached some kind of civilization, she’d be shocked.
A bellow of anguish sounded in the distance—Rixen—and Morgan forgot all about the movement in the brush and started sprinting again. While browsing through Rixen’s extensive book collection, she’d come across a crude map of the bayou and knew there was a small town in this direction. Maybe she should have alerted the cops once she’d freed herself from the closet, but she’d been worried for their lives. No way would Rixen let them cart her off back to Key Largo. He’d kill them first. So she’d run.