by Alta Hensley
“Look at me,” he instructed softly, fully expecting her to obey as she was a natural submissive and in the last few weeks had begun to instantly respond to his every direction. But, this time, she only shook her head.
“Just let me go,” she sobbed. “God, don’t make this harder than it is…”
He shook his head, one hand moving to cup her chin, to force her to look at him. “Don’t you know that I am never letting you go? How can you even think that you’d be leaving? Adira, don’t you know that you are mine?”
He wasn’t expecting her to jerk away from him and when he reached for her, his heart stopped when she held out her palms as if he were her enemy.
“Adira…”
“No! You don’t get to say that! What the fuck does that mean anyway?” Her voice rose, her eyes wide as her head shook from side to side. “Yours?”
When she took a step backwards, he took two steps forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her against him. “It means that you belong to me. It means that you have stolen my heart. It means that you are the other half of my soul. How can you not know that?”
“It’s not… not enough,” she said, tears swimming in her eyes, her lower lip trembling as she stared up at him. “I-I thought it was, but… it’s not…”
Maddox had spent all of his adult life facing danger, fighting some of the most evil men in the world, and yet it was those tears and those words that threatened to destroy him. He’d forced himself to remain strong, to appear invincible and yet, this small woman stating his love wasn’t enough felt like a thousand knives were being buried in his body. The pain was all consuming.
“Adira… don’t… I can’t live without you. I love you so much… God, I never knew a person could love another…”
“You… you love me?”
“Of course I do! I’ve told you a hundred times…”
“No! No you didn’t,” Adira countered.
“Yes I did,” Maddox said, but as her head continued to shake emphatically, he realized that he hadn’t actually said those three words. Yes, he’d used the word “mine” and had smiled and kissed her when she stated she loved him, and yet… hell, how could he be so incredibly stupid!
“Adira, I love you… I love you with all my heart and soul.”
“You… you do?”
“I’ve loved you since you raced across the dunes the first time I saw you. Your laugh opened my soul, and your smile, your eyes captured my heart. I almost died when you did, knew that my life would be nothing without you in it. I’ve never… never claimed a woman as mine but realize that you’re right. It isn’t enough. Unless you declare me as yours, then the word is meaningless…”
“I love you, Maddox. God, I love you so much that it hurts. Yes, I am yours… I want to be yours forever, and I want to tell the world that you, Maddox Steele, are mine.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, the truth of their words, the depth of their emotions filling their souls. With a growl, Maddox crushed her to him, his mouth searing hers in a kiss that left no doubt that he loved her, would always love her. When they parted, she lifted a finger to her lips as if they were bruised, but her smile told that she didn’t care. Looking down the hall to where the keypad to the dungeon stood, she returned her gaze to him.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought her favorite love was riding her horse across the dunes of Arabia, until she saw a cowboy in a black hat. From that moment, her destiny was changed when he became not only her savior, but her lover… her teacher. He taught her that to truly live was to embrace life to its fullest.”
Maddox smiled as she ran her fingertip down his chest to circle where his heart beat beneath his skin.
“This lucky young woman learned that whenever she doubted herself… or the man who claimed her as his own… he wouldn’t hesitate to remind her that not only was she loved… she was his in all ways.”
Locking his eyes onto hers, Maddox picked up the story. “This incredible woman learned that as long as she took breath, as long as her heart beat, all she need do was to trust her love, her Dom to lead her, to remind her that she was not only his, but that she was loved by the cowboy… now and forever.”
Adira lifted herself onto her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss before pulling away. “Is this where we ride side by side off into the sunset?”
Maddox chuckled, bending and once again lifting her over his shoulder. “No, this isn’t some sappy western movie. This is real life. This is where the love of my life learns what will happen if she ever again attempts to say goodbye.”
Adira’s laugh had the last band of constriction fall away from his heart as he walked to the dungeon door.
Low tones accompanied each key that he pressed until a loud click unlocked the door. Before he opened it, he said, “The numbers spell ‘Pleasure.’”
“Well, isn’t that clever, and yet seems a bit ironic, don’t you think? I mean, this is a dungeon after all,” she said with a slight giggle.
“Ah, yes, but we both know that my little Arabian girl finds the greatest pleasure with a touch of pain, don’t we?”
“Yes, Sir,” Adira admitted and Maddox grinned, feeling her shudder and yet hearing the acceptance of her need, her desire in her voice.
Moving into the center of the room as he had that first time, he turned in a slow circle. “Then, my love, where shall we begin?”
They began on the bed. After slowly stripping her, he pulled her over his lap. Her squirming began again as he heated her bottom with slap after slap of his palm against her bare flesh. Each stroke came with a word informing her that she’d always be loved, always be his, and always could count on having a very tender ass if she ever doubted his love for her. She came for the first time under his fingers, calling out his name as he pulled every ounce of that climax from her, leaving her soft and so very pliable. He chuckled when he carried her to the stocks, loving the fact that she found enough strength to stand while he guided her wrists and neck into the indentations, lowering the bar and locking it in place.
“Beautiful,” he said, bending to kiss her forehead before moving behind her, guiding her feet apart. Buckling restraints around her ankles, he locked the accompanying chains to the iron rings in the floor before walking to the wall and then the cabinet, returning with a flogger and a tube of lubricant.
“Who do you belong to?” he asked, running his hands up her legs.
“You… I belong to you, Sir.”
“That’s right. You are mine.” Finding her already dripping wet again, he took her to the edge of another climax with his lips and tongue, adoring the way she squirmed, and yet both knowing any struggle was fruitless. She’d be going nowhere except into the abyss he was determined she’d fall into. Standing, he slipped two fingers into her pussy, stroking her g-spot, watching her back arch and listening to her moans.
“Please… I need to come,” she whispered, whimpering when his fingers left her core.
“You shall,” he promised, her wide stance allowing his slick fingers to easily find their target. When she realized his intention, she mewled loudly.
“Not… not there,” she pleaded, her bottom jerking to the side.
“Mine,” he simply repeated, pressing his finger into her ass. “Every inch of you is mine.” She moaned again and as he began to slowly pump his digit in and out of her, she began to repeat his claim with soft whimpers of “yours… yes, yours.”
A second finger joined the first, opening her further, scissoring to force her sphincter to relax, to allow him in. Keeping his fingers pumping, he began to wield the flogger against her ass. She jerked but pushed back, not only offering her ass for more, but impaling herself on his intruding fingers.
“That’s right, dance for me, Adira, while the flogger stings your ass.”
He aimed the falls of the flogger to strike from her shoulders to her buttocks and then to the backs of her thighs, never taking his fingers from her anus or his eye
s from her body, watching every jerk, every gyration, every drop of her cream as it slid from her cunt. Changing direction, he snapped his wrist upwards, the falls striking between her legs.
“Ahhh,” she screeched, her head attempting to arch backwards but securely held in place by the stocks. Again and again, he caressed her core with the flogger, some strokes sharp enough to cause her to squeal and go up onto her toes, others soft as if to soothe the previous bite. All the while, his fingers pumped into her ass, preparing her for his cock that he’d soon be pressing inside.
She came the second time under the kiss of the flogger. The bar shook with her contractions, the chains jangling around her ankles. Pulling his digits free, he ran his palms over her bottom, which was berry red and slightly welted from the flogging. He released her ankles and then unlocked and lifted the bar holding her in place. He didn’t test to see if she could stand, instead he swept her up, cradling her in his arms as he moved back to the bed. Laying her down gently, he returned her soft smile.
“Yours,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied, removing his clothing and coating his cock liberally with the lubricant. “And now, my love, I will claim your remaining virginity.”
He lay behind her, instructing her to lift her top leg, pulling it to her chest as he again softly stroked her bottom, once more opening her with his fingers before placing the head of his cock against her anus. With infinite patience, he began to push inside, stroking down her arm when she tensed at the unfamiliar intrusion.
“Relax, trust me, Adira.”
“With my life,” she said, reaching for his hand. Their fingers entwined, he continued pressing into the velvet cavern of her ass, the tight passage causing his jaw to clench and her to give soft mewls. With a final sharp cry of discomfort, her rings of muscles surrendered, accepting his cock into her body.
His strokes were still gentle, allowing her to become accustomed to being claimed in such an intimate way until she looked back at him.
“Harder, Sir.”
Her request was met with him bending to kiss her and his hips beginning to pump faster, harder, his balls slapping against her ass with each deep stroke. She came for the last time with a cry of pleasure, her fingers tightening around his, her ass clamping and contracting around his cock, drawing his own release from him, filling her bowels for the first time.
Afterwards, he turned her to face him, her palm lying against his cheek.
“Mine,” she said, pressing her lips to his.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Yours.”
Their wedding was unlike any other but was perfect. Hadi hadn’t stopped smiling since Adira and Maddox had appeared again early the next morning.
“You aren’t going home?” he’d asked.
“I am home,” Adira had answered, giving him a hug, her cheek against his broad chest.
They had driven into town to include the rest of the family in their celebration. Hadi had walked Adira from the hospital room door to the bed where Jennie was sitting up, her arm in a sling, beaming with happiness. The couple exchanged their vows, their eyes only on each other as they proclaimed their undying love. Maddox slid a gold band that had been worn by his grandmother onto Adira’s finger. Stryder had popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, pouring the bubbly wine into Styrofoam cups provided by a nurse.
Hadi had flown home that evening, promising to return to Texas after their combined mission was truly over. Tears had been shed but Adira assured everyone that she was exactly where she belonged.
Two days later, the family was seated on the porch, Adira seated on Maddox’s lap, grinning as she watched Drake fill the pipe before handing it to Jennie.
“I can’t believe I’m allowing this,” he said, holding the flame so that Jennie could light the marijuana in the pipe’s bowl.
“It’s purely medicinal,” Jennie said with a very contented smile as she inhaled. “I’ll sleep so much better.”
Drake had just shaken his head as the others stood to allow the two some time alone.
“I’m going to the gym,” Anson announced. “Who wants to join me?”
“It’s late,” Maddox said, though it was not yet 9:00. “We’re going to bed.” Adira smiled as he swept her off her feet again and carried her up the stairs.
Stryder did follow Anson down the tunnel but went into the operations center. “I’ll be in later. I just want to check to see if anything new has come in.”
An hour later, Anson entered the ops room, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair indicating he’d not only completed his workout but had showered.
“What’s up?” he asked. Stryder didn’t even turn around from the bank of computer monitors as his brother stepped close. “I’ll be damned. You found him. That’s Poplov.”
“Yes,” Stryder said, though his eyes weren’t on the screen that showed the Russian. The photos that streamed across the monitor were slightly out of focus. Not due to any lack of skill of the photographer, but because each one had been taken in secret. Photos of women in various states of dress followed, one after another.
“Who are these women?” Anson asked.
“Remember when Hadi stated Poplov was into the sex trade? Well, it appears he is setting up some sort of auction.”
“Fuck,” Anson said, running his hand through his wet hair before turning to the screen that hadn’t been scrolling. “Who is she? You haven’t taken your eyes off her since I came in. Do you recognize her?”
“No.”
“Well, have you told Maddox any of this?”
“No,” Stryder said, his voice hard, the look in his dark eyes even harder as he finally looked at his brother. “And neither will you.”
“He’s gonna want to know. If there’s an auction, we’ll know where Poplov will be. We can arrange—”
“No,” Stryder repeated for the third time, his eyes returning to the screen. “He needs to stay here with Adira.”
“So what’s your plan?”
Stryder reached up to press a button, printing the picture on his screen. Picking it up, he once again felt his insides tighten. The woman’s beauty wasn’t what had him giving the answers he had. It was the look of absolute hopelessness in her eyes. He’d seen such an expression on his mother’s face the day she died. He hadn’t been able to prevent her death, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to help this girl. Flicking off the monitors, Stryder pushed to his feet. “Consider it my wedding present to them. This save is mine.”
The End
Stryder
Chapter 1
Stryder Steele pulled the collar of his wool jacket tighter around his neck. He blew into his hands, hoping the warmth of his breath would help combat the numbness setting in. The biting wind gusting off the Moskva River could freeze a man if he weren’t careful. He’d known Moscow would be cold, but this was fucking ridiculous. He wanted to kill whoever thought it best to have his brother, Anson, and him wait on the Moskvoretskaya Embankment by a damn statue of some Russian political figure from history. Sure, he would do whatever it took for the secret hand-off of a crucial invitation needed for their mission, but the fact remained that they could have just as easily done this in some heated bar, drinking vodka with the locals.
“My balls are going to freeze off. My Texas blood can’t deal with this shit,” Anson said as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “Are you sure this guy is going to show?”
“He’d better.”
“I don’t know. He should have been here by now. Maybe he got scared or someone got word of this.”
Stryder shook his head. “He’ll be here.”
“And you’re positive this guy has two invitations to Vasily Poplov’s auction?” Anson asked, each word accompanied by a white puff of cold air as he spoke.
“That’s what he said,” Stryder snapped. He was trying his best not to grow impatient with his brother, but when it came to missions, Stryder preferred to work alone. Hell, when it came to anything, he prefer
red to be alone.
He enjoyed working with his brothers and his father as a whole, but when he took the lead on a job, it was his and his alone. His family knew and respected that was how he operated, but Anson had insisted on coming on this operation. After attempting to annihilate every member of the Nazar family, Vasily Poplov had quickly become the most hated name in the Steele family. There wasn’t a single person on The Black Stallion Ranch back home who didn’t want to see this asshole pay for the crimes he’d committed.
“I don’t know, man,” Anson said with skepticism in his eyes. “I wish you would have told me more about this mystery person. How is he able to get two extra invitations to an underground sex slave auction?”
Stryder scanned the people passing by, noticing they didn’t seem as cold as he and his brother were, and said, “He’s just a bad man, who hangs out with bad people.”
Anson huffed. “And you just happen to know this man how?”
Stryder looked at his brother and smirked. “Because I’m a bad man who knows how to kill bad people.” He gave a playful wink to his brother just because he knew it would irritate him.
“You’re a real dick head sometimes, you know that? Remind me to never go on a fucking mission with you again.” Anson turned away, his classic way of silently declaring he was done with the conversation.
Stryder held in a laugh. The truth of the matter was, that if there were anyone he would want to be standing freezing his ass off with, it would be Anson. Stryder trusted him with his life. His brother was smart. Really goddamn smart. Stryder might fight his way out of danger with brawn, skill, or just plain shooting someone between the eyes, but Anson would take a far more logical approach to resolving a situation, and not always go into a risky setting with guns blazing. Whereas Stryder had three scars on his body from old bullet wounds, proving that he didn’t always think before he acted. A weakness of his, but he’d never tell his family that, or he’d never hear the end of it. Whether Stryder wanted to admit it or not, Anson and he would make a good team taking down this sex trafficking ring and making Vasily Poplov pay.