Enslave Me: A Dark Paranormal Romance (Legends of the Ashwood Institute Book 3)

by Jayla Kane

  “Jake is in love with your sister. And she is not a lost puppy. She’s almost as stubborn as you are.”

  I suddenly felt a little guilty for saying something shitty about Raven. Not Jake though. He can go fuck himself. “You think Zella and Charlie are safe?”

  “Do you want me to check?” He straightened his neck, his eyes clearing as he looked down at me. Ready to leave immediately, with a single word from my lips.

  Because he had my back—my kidnapper, the guy I blackmailed. He would do whatever I said right now, and not because I’d manipulated him or hidden how disgusted I was by him. No. Because I hadn’t. Because he was decent and good and wanted to help. I felt my heart in my throat. How did this happen so quickly? Was he just tricking me somehow—was I blinded by hormones? By all of the secret wishes he dragged out of my heart and into the light? Was the whole thing some elaborate ruse? Did he just feel guilty—“Baby,” he said, snapping me back to the minute, “what are you thinking?”

  And those eyes were locked on mine, fierce and bright and far too insightful. And I found I couldn’t lie to him. “I… I don’t know how it makes me feel that you and I are… I don’t know. But this, this feeling between us… This is different, right?”

  “Not really,” he said, and I made a face he found slightly amusing, because those dimples were back again.

  “Um, excuse me? Are you saying this is the same as every other interaction—”

  “No,” he said softly, taking a deep breath before abruptly pulling me nearer, so that my forehead was pressed against his again and we were so close I inhaled his exhalation. Peppermint; I’d thought of him every time I smelled it for months, and now it sent a delicious wave through my spine. “No, this is different.” He brushed his lips against mine, soft and sweet, then pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “But I’ve always felt this way about you. And that is what it is.”

  So simple. So assured. So completely uninterested in any kind of bullshit.

  So fucking hot.

  I kissed him, my mouth finding his in the quiet space we created with our breath, leaning into the warmth of him, seeking his tongue. He held me tighter, his thick forearms crisscrossing my spine, big hands clutching my shoulders, and I locked my ankles and held on to him like he was an anchor; in a sense, I guess he was. When he moved below me now, slow and deliberate, I let myself fall into the rhythm; I pressed my cheek against his throat, clung to his shoulders and imagined him inside of me, how it would feel for our bodies to be so deeply entwined, so permanently etched on one another. I moaned softly as I felt him, so thick and hard, gently pressing against my swelling slit, and his hands slid over my back as he looked down at me and asked without saying a word if he could take my clothes off. I felt like the room had increased its temperature by a thousand degrees, and yanked my top over my head. His nostrils flared when he saw me unclothed again, pupils dilating, and I leaned in to suck that bottom lip before he could pull away. Hunter rolled his hips, making me gasp, and traced my nipples with his long fingers; I felt my eyes closing, my body surrendering to pleasure as he teased me, cupping my breasts and gently teasing me until they were rough, aching points of tension, and then, and only then, he leaned down and sucked on them, one after the other, as my own hips began to helplessly roll back and forth, my body begging for him. To open me, to own me. I was leaning so far back that he had to abandon one of my breasts and slide a strong forearm beneath my shoulders to keep me aloft. “Hunter,” I gasped, sitting upright and kissing him again before I could even finish my thought—“please—”

  We were both breathing hard, like we’d been running for miles. He was so stiff underneath of me, my body so desperate to be filled that I was shaking. He ran his hands over my bare torso and licked my throat before making a small, gruff noise in the back of his throat and leaning back.

  I recognized the look in his eyes. “You’re going to say no again,” I whispered. He didn’t move, and after a second I leaned in to kiss him again; I was surprised to see an expression of relief on his face. “Hunter… I know you don’t want me to…”

  “I don’t want to do it here,” he said softly, and we stared at one another for a long moment. “Do you really… I mean…”

  “Yes,” I told him, running my hands over his head; my breasts were damp, glistening in the low light from sweat, from his attention, and I pressed my nipples against his chest and enjoyed the quick intake of his breath. My pussy felt raw. Needy. “I want you.”

  He swallowed hard, staring at me from lidded eyes, then straightened out from beneath my hand and seemed to shake himself awake. “Baby, I… I meant what I said, earlier, about the way I feel—”

  “You don’t have to defend it,” I told him, truthfully. This was not a happy place, this dark, straw filled dungeon with the dim, unwavering light and the strangers moving around outside at all unknown hours. His blood was still on the stones by the door where his claws cut through his skin. I didn’t especially want my first time to happen here either. “I get it.”

  “Are you sure you want it to be me?” There he was again, being all brave; it was almost painful to watch Hunter Black, 6’6 wolf man, swallow his pride and ask me a question like that. It took real guts. I pulled him tightly against my bare chest, then reached back and yanked his shirt over his head.

  “Definitely.” I knew what he was really asking—I knew what he was thinking of, all the things he was ashamed of, all the things that had gotten in the way of what felt like should have happened between us. I understood that he wanted to know if I was asking him to be with me because I was diving in to my own shame, or my future. And the truth was that until half an hour I didn’t really know—I just knew I couldn’t keep my hands off of him for very long. Was that because I wanted a little bit of rough? Or because I wanted what was beneath it?

  And now I knew. I wanted him. The man he really was, the one that sacrificed and spoke with kindness and had unshakeable loyalty. Of course I wanted him. “It will change things,” he said, his voice still soft with shyness. “And not just the magic,” he continued, then frowned quickly before kissing my forehead and cupping the back of my head so we could look into one another’s eyes again. “We’ll deal with that if you… If you want that. We’ll do it together. I won’t leave you alone—I can’t—”

  He shuddered, as if the memory of what he’d gone through—alone, I realized, after he signed that goddamned book and without a tenth of the information I’d been given—was too revolting to tolerate when superimposed on my existence. “I don’t think anything will happen,” I told him honestly; nothing had so far. “I just want it to be you, Hunter. I’m not getting my hopes up about anything else,” I whispered, and kissed him briefly, letting myself taste that full mouth for a second. “I’m ready. If we’re coming clean, I almost… I might have done it in the truck, before.”

  His eyes darkened, and I rubbed a hand over his cheek. “I wouldn’t have, I don’t think… Maybe not like I will now, as soon as you let me get you out of here.”

  “Oh yeah?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You seemed pretty keen right up until—”

  “Well, yeah,” he said softly, his eyes roaming over my face. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “But you wouldn’t have had sex with me?”

  “I would have done something else,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I could handle feeling used by you.”

  “Excuse me?” My expressions were clearly the key to seeing those dimples, because once again I was treated to a low, sultry chuckle; I could feel it rumbling down through my bones, tapping at my heart like a knock on the door, asking to be let in. “Hunter, you’re not a virgin, are you?”

  He shook his head, biting his lip in that way that made me weak, and watched my face for a second. “I’ve never done this, though.”

  “What?” I leaned in again, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my breasts now pressing against the taut velvet of his skin, my nippl
es hardening as they brushed against his heat. We both sucked in a breath at the sensation, and I felt him again below, hard and searching, reaching for me.

  “This,” he said, and his hands were sliding up and down my back, dipping lower each time, until he finally started tugging my shorts down. I hadn’t been naked in front of him yet, in spite of all the things that had happened between us; it made everything suddenly feel very real. I reared up and felt him slide the elastic waist band down over my ass, then my thighs; when I settled again I leaned far back and lifted one leg like a dancer and watched his face as he slowly drew my shorts over it, his whole body suddenly rigid. And then I was naked in his lap, lounging luxuriously on his long thighs, the center of my body bared to his.

  “You’ve never done what, Hunter?” In spite of my nerves, I was still able to tease him. Just a little bit.

  All of that predatory energy coiled inside of his body as he looked down at me, his eyes openly raking across my chest, my belly, the little bared cleft in the center. He suddenly reached down and wrapped his hands around my waist, then pulled my bottom all the way against his own hips; his jeans were all that was keeping me a virgin. His rough hands slid down my inner thighs, under my ass, then along my spine, lifting me so that I was arching into the thick bulge positioned right at my pussy, and I cried out when I felt him nudging my entrance. Jesus. I thought I might cum right then.

  He brought me all the way back up, so that our faces were close to one another again, and I rocked my hips so that I could feel that hardness, that deep ridge of tremendous strength and sex that I was teetering on. Hunter’s chest was rising and falling as he took slow, deliberate breaths; his gaze scorched me, and one of his hands flattened at the base of my spine, pressing me against him. I rolled my hips, riding him, and then gasped when his mouth met mine and tugged it open, his tongue sliding inside at the same time I felt his thick fingers slip under my thigh, going higher and higher, until he was palming my wet pussy. He tipped me backwards again, his eyes roving lower, and I shivered when I saw him look at me, at my most private self, reared back and open. I cried out when a rough fingertip gently brushed over my folds, teasing them open; his hand supported me from the back, letting me lean backward as he watched my pussy accept a single finger.

  It didn’t hurt; I was worried it would, because frankly Hunter’s hands were a hell of a lot bigger than most of the guys I’d been with. But it felt so good—I was so ready. I wanted him so damn badly. My whole body reacted instantly, my legs shaking, and as he began to stroke it slowly in and out, his thumb running a careful circle over my clit at the same time, I clenched my eyes shut and wailed his name. He tipped me back up and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and then my thighs had a mind of their own; I began to ride his hand, slowly at first, then faster, my body needing more. “Hunter,” I begged, and he immediately understood, sliding another thick finger inside—“Ohh,” I cried out, suddenly full. I couldn’t move for a minute. I had to adjust, my body stretching as he licked my throat, planting a trail of burning kisses along my collarbone, my chest, and then lifting my breast to his mouth. As he sucked my nipple—so slow at first, so careful—he ebbed his fingers out… And slid them back inside, his teeth grazing the sensitive tip. Just the lightest bit. Just enough to set me aflame.

  I rode his fingers and screamed his name with no shame, filled with him, my body on fire from within—the orgasm chewed through me, relentless, almost shocking in its ferocity given the sweetness of the giver. Hunter was relentless though, in his own way, pushing further inside me, stretching me until I groaned, until I my mouth hung open and tears of ecstasy tracked down my cheeks, until he’d sucked my nipples raw and pumped his hand into me for so long that I could hear it, the damp, the way my flesh needed more as I clenched and came for him. It was filthy, sexy, shameless… He was right. I’d never done this before either.

  I’d never felt safe enough.

  When I couldn’t take any more pleasure, he slowly extricated himself below and laid me down on the bed, running his fingers over my thrumming body. The room was hot and smelled like sex; he knelt beside me, too big to share the straw-tick with me. It felt so good, the way he touched me—he touched me with that same sense of reverence, as if he really meant it when he called me beautiful.

  And to be honest, in that moment, I felt beautiful.

  He kissed my lips; tender, then needy. He kissed the column of my throat, licked the sweat from between my breasts; he nipped the top of my thigh and caressed my ass as he slid between my legs, still kneeling, but now at the bottom of the bed. I watched as he tugged me lower, closer, my exhausted thighs falling open in front of him; I was nothing but slick, spent heat down there, but his eyes were dark and demanding. He licked me, my wet pussy tender and raw, his tongue searching and sweet, and then I came for him again, one more time, writhing on the bed until my back arched and I reached for him, called for him—and he reached up and held my hand while I finished one last time, letting me know he was there. He was always there.

  It’s hard to describe how I felt after that. I couldn’t lay there while he wasn’t with me; I couldn’t be anywhere he wasn’t. And so he sat on the edge of the bed again while I curled up in his lap, so tired I could barely form words, still shaking from hours of his intense attention.

  “It’s different now, right?” I whispered the words; I wondered if they were a spell, if what we’d done here was some kind of magic. It felt magic, truthfully—it felt as if I were becoming something else, even though we hadn’t had sex. Technically, I guess I should say.

  I didn’t feel like a virgin. I hadn’t been particularly experienced before, I guess, but this was new; this wasn’t something you could fabricate or even imagine. This was something that had to happen between the right two people at the exact moment when it was supposed to—you couldn’t force it. It required two people who fit like this, like we did: perfectly.

  “It’s not,” he said again, his voice so low I could hardly hear it. My ear was pressed to his chest. “I told you, I have wanted… I felt this way about you even when you hated me. That’s why this has been so…” He sighed, and I leaned back to look at him. His face was calm, but there was something in his voice that made me reach up to touch his cheek.

  “Hunter?”

  “I never wanted to kidnap you, Baby—”

  “I know that.”

  “But… That thing you said, that this would allow me to protect people? Protect Molly?” He swallowed, but his expression was pained. “I felt so selfish, not just because…” It took him one more try, but his eyes locked on mine, and he forced the words past his teeth in a low rush. “I was angry because I knew that you would never want to be with me. Because I felt robbed of the chance—of the idea. Which was stupid, because I should have been celebrating—you’re right. I’ll be able to protect Molly, and Jake, and you and Raven and everyone I ever care about—I’ll be able to make sure that nothing can get close to them, and if it does, I’ll destroy it. And you made it clear you thought I was stupid white trash anyway.” I winced at that. “But I… Raven forgave me, but because of this… Because of this I would never have a chance to prove that I might be someone you…” He clenched his eyes shut, and I sat up and kissed his jaw, the muscles clenched so tightly they felt like wires beneath his skin.

  “We’re here now,” I whispered, and forced his fingers apart enough to slip mine between them, tucking my head under his chin. “We’re here.” And all the sappy, romantic moments we never got to have—every Valentine’s day he should’ve brought me roses, every walk down Rose, fingers linked, our first kiss and my prom and his football games—I couldn’t miss them. I’d barely glimpsed that idea. I guess Hunter had thought about me a lot more than I could have realized, and glimpsed more of who I really was than I thought possible. But we were here now; if fate had plans for us, they charted a hell of a course. But we were here.

  “Please let me take you out of this place,” he whispered,
holding me tight.

  “I want to do this right,” I said. “I can never go back now—I’ve missed school, I can only imagine my family will have noticed I’m missing on my birthday. And in theory, at least, I’m a member of the Ashwood Society. Everything is different. Even when I go back, I’ll never go back.” I stroked his cheekbone and he closed his eyes, long lashes fanning across his cheek. “Same with you.”

  “I’m going to tell Jake,” he said, his voice grim. “I should’ve from the first.”

  “We need to figure out what to do about Molly,” I said gently, and he gritted his teeth so hard I heard them. “Hunter, hey—it’s alright. It’ll be alright.”

  “You haven’t missed that much school, and your family—”

  “I’m not going to drop out, don’t worry, sugar, relax,” I murmured, still stroking his cheek, and when I said that his dark eyes slid open and landed on my face. I grinned up at him. “You can think of a nick-name for me that isn’t what my sisters holler at me when they’re pissed I stole a sweater or something. But I’m definitely going to start calling you sugar. And honey, probably. And baby.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. “No.”

  “Yes. Definitely.” I sat up in his lap, relieved to see the tension leeching out of his shoulders, to see his eyes light up a little. “Darlin, sweet-thing, sugar-plum—”

  He tickled me, and I giggled and wiggled and did all that girly shit I’ve seen a hundred girls do in the cafeteria with their stupid boyfriends and wanted to throw up and it felt amazing. It felt… Exhilarating. Because there wasn’t anyone else here, and we weren’t doing it for show—we did it because we were so comfortable with one another that there was nothing we couldn’t do. Because I could swear at him and scratch his face in a rage and count on him to rip someone to shreds because they hurt me, because he knew I was capable of being overwhelmed by my responsibilities and hurt by my family’s neglect and he still thought I was strong. I trusted Hunter with my whole self.