by Julia Sykes
Her heart shattered in her chest.
Although her hands were shaking, she managed to saw through the ropes that bound Lucas. As soon as he was free, he sprang to his feet, wrenching the knife from her hand in a move faster than she could follow.
Fear flooded her for a moment as she thought he was going to stab her. His eyes blazed with fury, but all he said was “Thank you,” before sprinting from the room.
Cecelia sank down on her knees and sobbed as the shards of her heart tore through her lungs.
Shay couldn’t hold back a sob as Jonathan ripped her dress open with a jerk of his powerful arms. He chuckled as his fingers closed over her hardened nipples. They were still sore from the clamps that Lucas had used on her, so the pain was all the more intense.
Jonathan twisted cruelly, but her cry of pain was mingled with an erotic moan. She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks; she hated herself, hated her body for reacting this way. It seemed that her final moments would be spent betraying Lucas.
She was shocked out of her despair when shouts floated the door, followed by strange gurgling noises before something heavy hit the ground.
Jonathan took no notice. His eyes gleamed with a maniacal light as his hand closed around her throat, squeezing slowly, cutting off her air.
There was a loud bang as the door was flung open. Jonathan released her immediately, turning to face the threat.
Shay sucked in air, and through her watering eyes she could see Lucas charging at him, throwing him up against the wall. Jonathan’s eyes widened in surprise. There was a rattling sound in his throat as he struggled to breathe. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
Shay gasped as she took in the knife in Lucas’ hand, the rictus snarl on his face as he twisted the blade that protruded grotesquely from Jonathan’s chest. Jonathan’s eyes went curiously blank, staring at nothing. Lucas stepped back from him, and he slid to the floor, leaving a gruesome red streak on the wall behind him.
The silence was heavy and final, and Lucas and Shay remained frozen for a long minute, staring at one another in shock.
Then Lucas was on her, his hands roving over her body, checking her for injuries.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, over and over again, as though to convincing himself as well as her.
Shay’s arms wrapped around him, clutching him tightly to her, reassuring herself that he was real, that they were both somehow alive. Lucas cupped her face in his hands and pulled her towards him. He took her mouth fiercely, pouring all his emotion into the kiss. She met him with equal fervor, her tears wetting his face as she reveled in the feel of his tongue possessing her mouth, marking her as his.
When he finally pulled back from her, she was gasping for breath.
“I love you, Shay,” he whispered against her lips, his voice tight with emotion.
She gasped. Could he really love her as she loved him? He had told her that he didn’t love her in London. Had that been a lie?
Yes, she realized. He had come to save her, had been ready to die for her. And now they were both saved.
“I love you too, Lucas,” she said softly.
He leaned in to kiss her again, but they were distracted by a wail that came from behind them.
Cecelia rushed towards Jonathan’s prone form. She shook him, sobbing. Shay almost felt sorry for her, but she looked at Lucas, and nothing else existed in the world. He was alive. And Jonathan was dead. He could never hurt them again.
“Cecelia,” Lucas said the woman’s name sharply, calling her to attention. She jerked in surprise, her gaze snapping to meet his. “This never happened,” he told her. “You are responsible for getting rid of his body. And those of the mercenaries. Quietly. If I ever hear even a whisper of what happened here, I will come for you and you will spend the rest of your life in jail. Do you understand?”
Cecelia’s eyes were wide, but she swallowed hard and nodded tremulously.
“Good,” Lucas said brusquely. “Then we’ll be going now.” He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a dress, tenderly covering Shay. When she was clothed, Lucas took her by the hand. “Come on,” he said gently. “My car is close by.”
He paused to kiss her one more time, his lips lingering on hers as though he couldn’t bear to pull himself away. When he finally did, he carried her out of the bedroom, taking her away from the place where she had thought she would die. She glanced back, seeing Jonathan’s beautiful face one last time. There was no shred of warmth within her when she looked upon it.
Chapter 7
Lucas held another press conference when they returned to London, telling the public that Jonathan had coerced him into retracting the charges against him by threatening Shay. Their injuries were proof enough to confirm his story, but he left one important fact out: he said that Jonathan had disappeared when he had gone to rescue Shay.
If he told anyone about where they had been, about what had truly happened, Lucas might have been tried for murdering Jonathan. He could have claimed self-defense, but the public scandal that would have come down on his company would have ruined him.
They kept Jonathan’s death a secret, and they kept their silence about Cecelia’s involvement. Despite his anger with her, Lucas felt he owed her for ultimately saving their lives.
And it seemed that she had made good on her promise; they hadn’t heard a word from her about Jonathan. She must know that by speaking out she would incriminate herself for her involvement in kidnapping and attempted murder.
After a few weeks, the media storm died down, and Lucas and Shay found peace at last. Although her physical wounds had healed, she still couldn’t shake the trauma of Jonathan’s attack. Every time Lucas tried to do more than kiss her, she couldn’t help shrinking away. She felt so dirty after reacting to Jonathan’s sadistic touch, and the burden of keeping it a secret from Lucas made it impossible for her to be comfortable around him.
He was happy to give her time, wanting nothing more than to help her heal. Only, she wasn’t sure if she ever would.
He was kissing her now, and as he felt her melt for him, he snaked his hand under her shirt, reaching for her breast. Although her nipples hardened at the prospect on his touch, she pulled away.
“Please,” she whispered, her eyes wide and frightened. “No.”
Lucas’ brows drew down as he frowned at her. “What’s wrong, Shay?” He asked gently. “I can feel that you want me. Why won’t you let me touch you?”
“I just…” She hesitated. “It’s too soon.”
Lucas’ jaw tightened. “You’re lying to me, Shay. I can always tell. I’ve tolerated it for this long because I thought you needed time. But I won’t allow this to go on any longer. Tell me what’s bothering you.” Although his tone was gentle, it was an order.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “Please…”
“Shay,” he said, almost snapping. The Dom was questioning her now. “Tell me. Now.”
“I…” She faltered under his hard, unyielding gaze. She didn’t want to tell him. She couldn’t. He would be disgusted by her, and all the trust that they had built between them would come crumbling down.
He gave a low, impatient growl, a warning sound.
Shay couldn’t hold it in any longer. The secret was too heavy a burden to bear, and she knew that she could never be with Lucas again unless she trusted him with her shameful secret.
“Because I liked it,” she said, her voice barely audible. “At least… my body did. I liked it when he touched me. Even at the end.” She dropped her gaze, unwilling to see the disgust in his eyes, the betrayal.
Then his finger curled under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. She was amazed to see nothing there but compassion; there was no trace of the contempt, the hatred that she had expected to see.
“It’s all right, Shay,” he said gently. “You reacted as a submissive to a Dominant. It’s what you are, and you can’t help that. Your body remembered how to react to him, tha
t’s all.”
No. He was wrong. She could see that he believed what he was saying to her. But could she believe it? Her reaction to Jonathan was tantamount to betrayal, even if she hadn’t been able to help it.
“But-” She tried to protest weakly, but he crushed his mouth down onto hers, cutting her off.
The ferocity of his kiss brought out a visceral, unstoppable reaction in her. The heat that had already been simmering in her belly just from being in his presence bloomed outward, reaching up into her chest and down between her legs, warming her heart and her sex. His hand was at her breast again, cupping it roughly. Her own hand immediately rose up to bat it away, to deny his touch. A part of her still felt that she didn’t deserve it after what she had done.
There was a sharp pain as Lucas nipped at her lower lip. At the same time, he grabbed her wrist, pulling it firmly away from his hand on her breast. Rather than releasing her as she wished, he squeezed, his fingers digging into her flesh in a way that was painful and erotic at the same time.
“Who’s body is this, sub?” He asked, his breath tickling her lips as he spoke demandingly.
What? “Um, mine?” It came out as a question.
His grip shifted suddenly, and his harsh fingers closed around her nipple. He spoke over her sharp cry.
“Let me re-phrase that,” he said calmly, clearly. “Who does your body belong to, sub?” He twisted her nipple as he questioned her.
Oh. Shay’s eyes widened, realizing the correct answer. “You, Sir,” she said softly.
He rolled the hard peak between his fingers, alleviating the sting of his pinch.
“That’s right, sub,” he said with a small smile. “And I play with what is mine when I want. Do you understand?”
Shay swallowed hard, hesitating. His touch felt so good, and she wanted nothing more than to absolve herself from responsibility, to give her body to him. But self-disgust still nipped at the corners of her mind as she remembered what Jonathan had done to her…
Lucas’ emerald stare turned hard, reproving. As he spoke, his fingers left her nipple to lightly trace the underside of her breasts. “This body is perfect, Shay. I like how it reacts to me, to my touch. That can never be wrong.” His gaze softened. “I have to know that you understand that. I want you, just as you are.”
Her eyes were wide as she stared up into his sincere gaze. Could he really mean that? He was forgiving her for what she had done? Relief and love flooded her as she allowed herself to truly accept his forgiveness. And she forgave herself.
“I love you,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
“Good girl,” he murmured, recognizing her acceptance.
With that as her only warning, he began tearing her clothes off in a frenzy, and, prompted by his enthusiasm, she did the same to him. All of the pent-up passion between them that had been denied in the long days since they had escaped Jonathan came roaring to the fore.
In a matter of moments, they were naked, and he shoved her sharply so that her back hit the wall. There would be no careful seduction this time, no controlled erotic torment. There was nothing but the flames that licked her skin where he touched her, the heat of them threatening to singe her very soul. She welcomed the inferno, craving its burn.
He made no effort to ready her for him. He drove up into her, pinning her on his hard cock. She was wet and ready for him, and her pussy contracted around him in delight at the harsh intrusion. His large hands closed around her wrists, pressing them into the wall above her head. He held them there with one hand, bringing the other down to grasp her breasts, tweaking her nipples.
She melted under his touch, reveling in his complete power over her. The feel of his unyielding fingers around her wrists, his rough grip on her tender flesh, his hard cock impaling her… Her entire body was alive, her mind completely in his thrall. He was the only real thing in the world, and she gloried in it. Pleasure began to build within her as he hit her g-spot, the blissful sensations dancing with the sparks of pain as he pinched her nipples. She looked up at him, silently begging for release.
“Come for me, sub.” She fell into the sparkling green pools of his eyes as pleasure overwhelmed her. Heat exploded outward from her core, rippling throughout her entire body in a pleasurable wave. As her orgasm ripped through her, she felt Lucas achieve his own release, and his grip on her wrists tightened to near-bruising force as he came inside her.
It was only after the last pleasurable shudders had been wrung from her that he released her, only to catch her up in his arms as she began to sag against him. She snuggled into him, feeling no hint of her earlier self-disgust at his touch.
She couldn’t hate anything that belonged to Lucas.
Epilogue
Two days later, Shay was smiling to herself as they hiked out onto what she now thought of as “their” rock face, nestled deep in the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains. They had finally returned to North Carolina, and she was grateful to be home after the recent trauma that she had survived.
Although she was now well on her way to healing both physically and emotionally, thanks to Lucas. She turned her face from the warm sun and met his eyes. They were glowing with emotion, and the intensity of it knocked the breath from Shay’s chest. Would she ever get used to his perfection? To the way that he looked at her?
“Shay,” his accented voice was rich and deep as he spoke her name. Keeping her trapped in his gaze, he took one of her small hands in his. “I have something that I want to say.”
Was that a hint of trepidation in his eyes?
He plowed on, and she didn’t have time to contemplate it.
“I know I hurt you when I drove you away after Prague. I was cruel when I told you that I didn’t love you.”
Shay flinched at the memory, and Lucas’ face tightened with some remembered pain of his own.
“But that was a lie,” he pressed on. “I thought I was protecting you by distancing you from me. It’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
Shay’s breath caught in her throat as he dropped to one knee, never breaking eye contact with her.
“I never want you to leave my side again.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box.
Shay was frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe. Was this really happening? Then he snapped the box open, and she was momentarily dazzled by the sparkling of the diamond ring as the sunlight reflected off it.
“Will you marry me, Shay?”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak; she was frozen in shock. This perfect man really wanted her? He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her? She realized in that moment that she had never wanted anything so fiercely in her entire life.
“Yes!” She gasped out, tears of joy beginning to spill down her face. A delighted laugh escaped her. “Yes!” She said again as Lucas tenderly slipped the gorgeous ring onto her trembling finger.
He lifted her hand and bent to kiss the ring that now sparkled upon it. Then he straightened, grinning widely as he took her waist in his strong arms.
“That’s the last time I’ll ever kneel in front of you, sub, so I hope you looked your fill,” he said playfully, his joy reflecting her own.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said huskily, the lust that constantly simmered within her bubbling up at his heated look.
With a low growl, he caught up her hair in his fist and held her where he wanted her as he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly, languorously, his tongue teasing and stoking her need as he expertly manipulated her body. She sighed into him, submitting, basking in the knowledge that she was his and he was hers. Forever.
The End
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Impossible: The Orig
inal Trilogy (Monster, Traitor, and Avenger)
My life was irrevocably changed that night. The night I was taken. I saved a man's life, but at what cost to myself? Can I convince him to save me in return?
I hate him for what he's done to me. But the longer I'm trapped with him, the harder it is to cling to that hatred. He is an enigma of a man, one who is shockingly arrogant, sweetly contrite, and frighteningly aggressive by turns. And the pain in his eyes is a mirror for my own.
The longer I remain in his grip, the more confused I become.
Is my freedom worth betraying him?
Excerpt
My heart stopped as a strong hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my scream. Something cold and round was pressed against my cheek. I didn’t have to see it to instinctively know what it was: a gun. To make up for its brief silence, my heart was suddenly pumping in double-time, my pulse racing in my veins as terror spiked through me.
“Are you a doctor?” A deep voice asked from the backseat of my car where the man had been hiding. His tone was rough, with a ragged edge of desperation.
His hand left my mouth so I could answer. I considered screaming for help, but the gun that was pressed against my face stopped me. Instead, I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat.
“Y-yes,” my voice was unusually high and shaky.
The muzzle of the gun shifted to my ribs, pressing hard into my flesh. “You’re going to drive exactly where I say. If you don’t, I won’t hesitate to kill you. Understand, doc?”
My heart was in my throat now, cutting off my ability to speak. So I just nodded to communicate my understanding.
“Start the car and head for the City,” the voice commanded. “We’re going to Brooklyn.”
My hands were trembling, so I gripped the steering wheel hard to ensure I didn’t swerve all over the road. I didn’t dare betray the fact that there was something wrong; if I was stopped by the cops for reckless driving, god knows what this man would do to me before I could even yell for help.