Auctioned Virgin: Kidnapped

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Auctioned Virgin: Kidnapped Page 4

by Frankie Love


  “And you don’t care that you are committing a crime and will go to prison for this?“

  “Honestly, I didn’t think that part through.”

  “Well, you should have. Because even if you somehow convinced a judge to let you off, I’d sue you in civil court. Basically, you’re fucked.”

  He sets down the spoon, leaning over the table, the cocky smirk gone and replaced with an intensity that could set this room on fire.

  I set my elbows on the table and lean in too. We’re inches apart, and I feel myself burning up. The cabin is nice and cozy, but his body radiates a heat I’ve never understood before.

  “Justine Van De Shire, sue me for all I’m worth, send me to prison. It’s still worth it.”

  I scoff, confused beyond all get out. “Why?”

  “Because I know what kind of man you need, and it’s not the one who bought you.”

  I glare at him, hot and bothered and royally pissed off. “And I suppose you know what kind of man I need?”

  “I do.”

  “Let me guess,” I say flatly. “I need a man like you?”

  His eyes betray him for a fraction of a moment and I see a flicker of indecision flash between us, but then it’s replaced with a kind confidence I can’t crack. “Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you here to try and sleep with you, Justine.”

  I swallow, feeling embarrassed to assume he brought me here to have his way with me. And in some strange Stockholm syndrome way—I wanted him to want me. “You didn’t?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I brought you here to make sure you left Alaska a virgin.”

  Chapter 7

  Ryder

  Locking eyes with her nearly kills me. I tell her I want her to leave a virgin, but the words are a damn lie. I want her, all of her.

  Having Justine in my cabin brings out my feral instincts. The idea of another man taking her sweet innocence nearly breaks me. I love how she’s rooted in her convictions but soft in other ways.

  And those brown eyes of hers are filled with a tenderness... a longing.

  Dammit. They are filled with desire.

  I know the look because I’m looking at her with the same hunger. The same primal instinct.

  But I can’t say that as we sit across from one another. Hell, no. It would freak the shit out of this virtuous woman.

  I don’t want her skittish, scared. I want to explain the truth of why she’s here, but not before she is ready to believe me.

  And right now, she’s a roller-coaster of emotions. Half wanting to claw my eyes out and the other half... well, I’d like to believe the other half of her wants to strip me down to nothing and run her hands up and down my body.

  But I’m not sure a woman like Justine has considered the filthy thoughts running through my mind. I could take her here, on this table. I’d sweep the table clear and push up that satin dress and press my mouth between her thighs. I’d lick her sweet pussy over until she dripped against me.

  Then I’d ruin her for all other men, forever.

  I’m so lost in my fantasy that my soup gets cold.

  “Why do you care so much about what happens to me?” she asks pulling her eyes away from mine and tearing off a chunk of bread.

  “The man who bought you doesn’t deserve your innocence.”

  She sneers, ripping the bread in half, dipping it in her bowl of soup.

  “You are such a stereotypical man, you get that, right?”

  Now it’s my turn to scowl. “I am not a typical man.” I get up and open the fridge, grabbing two beers. I pop the caps and hand her one before taking a long pull on mine. I pride myself on being a forward-thinking man. “I may live off the grid, but I’m not backwoods. I support women’s rights, believe in equal pay and vote liberal. Hell, I don’t want anyone telling me what to do or where to do it and that means I don’t think anyone else should have that right either.”

  She crosses her arms, her eyes dead-set against me. “Yet you think you know what I should do with my body.”

  Righteous anger courses through me. “It’s different. Luther Morris is a goddamn creep.”

  “And you know this how?”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Because he’s my ex-stepfather.”

  Her lips purse at the words. “Oh.”

  “He wasn’t always so bad. But after my mom died...” I set down my beer. “Look, he sleeps with every twenty-year-old woman he meets. He takes them to his sex chamber and plays out his daddy fetish.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Maybe I want to call someone daddy. You shouldn’t get to be the one to choose.”

  My jaw tightens when she says the word, daddy. The truth is: I don’t want to imagine her saying anyone’s name but mine.

  “He wouldn’t respect your body. He would treat you like a prize.”

  She pushes away from the table dramatically as she stands. “But I am a prize. A trophy. That was the entire point of this auction.”

  I stand too, walking over to her. Taking her by the elbow, I hold her still. “The idea of that man touching you. It fucking killed me, Justine.”

  She looks at my hand on her arm, then up at me, her eyes written in confusion. “Why? Why did my selling myself matter to you? You don’t even know me.”

  “I knew enough.”

  “Then why didn’t you buy me at the auction?” Then her eyes flick around the cabin and she thinks she has me all figured out.

  “I don’t buy women.”

  “But you will kidnap them?”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I run a hand over my beard, knowing I’ve fucked things up.

  She pushes me off her, and I let her step away. “Then you won’t have me,” she says, running her hands over her bare arms.

  I nod, knowing she is exactly right. I may think she’s perfection, but I’m not interested in buying this beauty’s virginity.

  “Tomorrow I’ll take you to the airport, get you on a plane and fly you home. And I’ll hope like hell you’ll forgive me, but know I don’t deserve it.”

  “You will?” She stands in front of the wood stove, the flames bright, illuminating her.

  I nod. “And I will give your organization five million dollars.”

  She tilts her head, disbelieving my words.

  “I mean it. I live here, like this, by choice.”

  “You are lying to me.”

  I step toward her, unable to resist wrapping my arms around her tiny waist. She doesn’t resist. And I don’t know if that is because she is terrified or desperate like me.

  “I may have kidnapped you, Justine, but I’m not a liar.”

  “Then what are you, Ryder?”

  I raise an eyebrow, the truth so close to escaping.

  “Tell me,” she says, breathing hard. The rise and fall of her tits get me hard as hell, and damn, the idea of pulling away from her seems impossible. “Tell me what you really are.”

  I pull her closer. The cabin I built with my own two hands is suddenly more than the off the grid homestead where I lay my head at night.

  Suddenly it transforms into an escape from the real world, it becomes an impenetrable retreat.

  It’s a destination and Justine and I are the only two people who have the map.

  I look at her, hoping like hell she feels the same fucking way.

  “You want to know who I really am?”

  She nods, licking her lips.

  “You want the truth, and nothing but the truth?” I ask.

  She lowers her chin, raises her eyes. “So help me God.”

  I smirk, willing to lay it all on the line. “I’m a man who is suddenly really fucking horny.”

  Her face breaks into a smile. Her laughter lighter than her dark eyes and darker hair would suggest.

  “I did not expect you to say that. Not with you telling me you wanted me to leave here a virgin.”

  “Can’t both things be true?” I ask.

  When she speaks again, the laughter is gone, and her voice is fil
led with a hushed sincerity. “But what if I don’t want them to be?”

  “What do you want, Justine?”

  “Two things: I wanted to lose my virginity tonight. And I wanted to raise money for HAHA.”

  “I can’t sleep with you.” It kills me to say it, but it’s the truth.

  “Why not?” she crosses her arms.

  “Because I didn’t bring you here for that.”

  Annoyance flashes across her face. “But I want to. You’ll kidnap me and deny me sex, pretty cruel.”

  “It not that I don’t want to, but Justine…” I look in her wounded eyes and know I’m hurting her. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and have any regrets.”

  She huffs. “I went through a lot of pain getting myself waxed and ready for this night. You want that all to have been done in vain?”

  “Woman, you are putting me in a tough spot.”

  She licks her lips, reaches out her hand and presses it to my groin. My stiff cock is against her hand and damn, it feels so right.

  “I don’t think it’s a tough spot. I think it’s a hard one,” she teases. “And Ryder, I’m a woman who goes after what she wants.”

  I growl, my palm on her cheek, pulling her lips to mine. “What if I told you I’ll give you what you want?”

  “Then I would say I forgive you for kidnapping me.”

  My mouth is on hers, restraining myself no longer possible.

  Why would I hold back when we can both have everything?

  Chapter 8

  Justine

  His hand on my cheek may be calloused but his lips? They are so damn soft. I lean into the kiss, having both expected it and not thinking it would happen in a million years.

  He kidnapped me hours ago and now his mouth is pressed against mine, and with my eyes closed, I give in to him.

  And I vow to give him everything.

  I don’t believe he has millions of dollars, but right now I don’t care what his bank account says. Hell, I’ll give HAHA five million in his honor because when his mouth opens and his tongue finds mine, I swear I’d give him every last cent to my name.

  Some people might think that is giving up a lot for a single kiss but this isn’t just a kiss.

  This is a spark. A flame. Something ignited deep inside.

  I am burning up, and a greedy fire is catching inside me that can’t be quenched. It’s no longer a mere flicker of desire at my core. Ryder kisses me and I’m consumed.

  “You sure?” he asks, his mouth on my ear.

  I whimper against him, every hair on my body standing on end. “I’m not the sort of woman who changes her mind.”

  “I can see that, you know what you want.”

  “I do.”

  I like that he sees that in me, respects it. I like that he wants me as badly as I want him.

  He told me he was horny and if my wet panties have a say in this, I’m horny too. I want it all at once, but I also want to take our time. I want him to take me against the wall, hard and fast, and I want to straddle Ryder; ride him nice and slow.

  I want it all. I want everything.

  But I don’t even know where to begin. Our mouths collide once more, but my teeth hit his, I nip at his lip, I nearly draw blood. And my hands, they don’t know where they belong. On his face? His belt? His manhood?

  My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I am in over my head in ways I can’t admit. I want this, yet I don’t know how to get there. I don’t know where to go.

  “It’s okay, Justine,” he whispers. “Let me help,” he says as he kisses a trail along my neck. “Let me take care of you.”

  I close my eyes, grateful I’m not alone in a hotel room with Ryder’s ex-stepdad, a man who might rush me in ways I’m not ready for. I want this, absolutely, but I also want to remember my first time.

  Tears well up, and I realize I had no idea what I was doing when I decided to auction off my virginity. I didn’t completely understand what it would mean to let a man run his hands over my body, to open myself up to a stranger who may not treat me as something fragile.

  And while I am a strong, capable woman, I am also just a girl, needing a man. I didn’t know I could be both those things. But as Ryder pulls back my hair, exposing my shoulders, his ice blue eyes make everything crystal clear.

  With a man like him, I can be anything I want to be.

  “Can you get my bags from the car?” I ask. Suddenly I want to make this moment special, I want to make this night memorable.

  His eyes lock on mine, as if asking if I’m going to try and run, but he should know by now that I am not here against my will.

  If this auction would have been the other way around, and he was up on stage selling himself, I wouldn’t have held back.

  I’d have been the highest bidder.

  And tonight, I’ll be the one leaving with the prize.

  I stand in his tiny bathroom. Yes, I snooped and looked through his toiletries, and I was surprised to see that they were all high-end. All luxury, and to be honest it’s hard to connect the shampoo he uses to the rugged man who took me off the grid. But just like I can be more than one thing, maybe Ryder can be too.

  I look in the mirror hanging over the sink and smooth back my long hair. I slide pale pink gloss over my lips and make a kissy face, pleased with myself for slowing down the sexcapades a tiny bit.

  Yes, this is better. I cinch the tie of the white satin bathrobe and readjust my breasts in the lingerie. I straighten the pearl necklace and take a deep breath.

  Now I’m going to step into the cabin and have sex. This shouldn’t be life-altering, but it is. Maybe because the auction amped up this moment to the max, but maybe it’s because it is Ryder out there waiting for it.

  Ryder is not at the kind of man I expected I’d be sleeping with. Everything about him screams untamed and maybe that is the appeal. I know I’m not going to domesticate him in one night but I want this feral man to be the one who takes my virginity.

  Especially since he isn’t just a rugged, bearded, hottie. He is also undeniably gentle with me.

  He made me vegan lentil soup for goodness sakes.

  I push open the bathroom door and see Ryder has stripped to nothing but a pair of boxers.

  A small gasp escapes my mouth. Ryder is not just a mountain man; he looks like he was carved to perfection. His muscles reveal strength I imagined but couldn’t comprehend. His shoulders are broad and ripped with corded muscles. I can tell he moves his body constantly and all I want right now is for his body to move to mine, to undress me and take me and make love to me until the sun rises.

  “Justine,” he says, his voice gruff. Like the sight of me leaves him raw, unhinged. Like I could be the end of him or just the beginning. I step toward him, wanting him to think I am beautiful and desirable. “You look so innocent,” he says, his hands moving over my shoulders, running over the slippery satin.

  “I’m more than meets the eye, Ryder,” I tell him, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.

  “Of that, I am certain.” And then he pulls at my belt, and he pushes the robe off my shoulders, and I stand before him in my tiny nightgown, the one that barely skims my ass, hardly covers my waxed pussy.

  “You’re a fucking angel,” he groans, looking me up and down.

  And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to doing the exact same thing. I can’t help but stare at him. All of him. His hardness is visible through his boxers and the fact that I excite him excites me.

  I want to please him, make him proud. I want him to like what he sees.

  He kisses me again, this time his tongue is more demanding, and I melt against him, our mouths meeting in a collision of free will and absolute fate.

  Chapter 9

  Justine

  Of course, this night could have gone in so many different ways. I could have never been taken by Ryder in the first place. I could have been spreading my legs for a man older than my father, being taken in a way that would always remind me of somet
hing bitter and sad.

  Hell, I could have kept glaring at Ryder when I entered his cabin or I could’ve taken off into the dead of night. I could have fought him harder. I could have refused to speak. I could have closed my eyes and sworn I wouldn’t open them until I was home, safe and sound.

  But for whatever reason, I didn’t do those things. For whatever reason when I walked inside Ryder’s cabin I gave in to what the night offered.

  And the night is giving me this. It is giving me a man who’s lowering himself to his knees and running his palms over my soft skin.

  When Ryder runs his fingertips beneath the straps of my nightgown I shiver, his touch is so intimate, so wanting, that I forget to breathe.

  It’s like I’m back in the beginning, I don’t even know myself anymore. I certainly don’t know why I waited so long to have a man touch me like this.

  But as Ryder pulls down the straps of my nightgown, letting it fall to the floor revealing my bare breasts and my bare pussy, I know exactly why I waited.

  I waited for him.

  His fingertips brush over my nipples, pinching them ever so slightly. His hands run over my belly, over my hips, resting on my ass as he pulls me toward his mouth. And then he’s kissing me.

  He’s kissing my pussy delicately, taking his time. It’s as if we have a lifetime before us.

  And for all intents and purposes, we do. I am here and no one knows where I am and we are alone.

  This night is ours.

  So, I run my hands through his thick hair, as his mouth devours my mound. When he runs his hand between my thighs feeling my wet cunt, I whimper at his touch. I drip as he moves against me. I ache for more.

  He looks up, my hands still threaded through his hair.

  “You taste like shortbread,” he says, offering me a smile.

  I bite my bottom lip not expecting those words from him. “Like the cookie?”

  “My favorite kind.”

  I’m still so shocked that I’m having this conversation with a man. This morning, I had never been naked with a guy before, and now this one is kissing my most intimate parts.

 

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