Fix Me: Men of Sander’s Valley, book 2

by Corrigan, Nancy

  He nibbled on her neck and pushed just the crown of his cock into her greedy body. She wiggled, trying to capture him and draw him in. He locked his knees in an effort not to plunge into her. There was one more thing he needed from her.

  She gave it to him on a whimpered cry. “Wyn, please. I need you inside me.”

  Her plea, a demand he could no longer deny. He grabbed her hips, holding her still, and joined them on a controlled push, allowing him to savor the moment of becoming one with her. It was an experience he looked forward to every time they made love.

  He dropped his head to her shoulder and breathed through the urge riding him that wanted to pound into her. He waited a few seconds, giving her a chance to adjust to his possession. Her shaky sigh told him she was ready for more, so he dragged his length back until only her lower lips held the tip of his dick. On a slow thrust, he filled her. Heaven. That was what she felt like.

  “So damn tight, love. So good. I can’t get enough of you.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. She parted them, and he slipped inside. He kissed her, twining his tongue with hers in the deep melding of their mouths he knew she loved, but the need to move took over. He broke their kiss. He was too tall to fuck her the way she wanted while loving her mouth.

  He drew his rigid cock through her muscles before she broke his control completely. Watching their bodies come together filled him with awe. They were so different physically, but locked in passion, they fit, complementing and completing each other. He wouldn’t miss the chance to enjoy seeing it.

  His cock glistened with her arousal. He ran his finger from the root of his erection to where her lower lips were stretched wide for him. It was a goddamn beautiful sight. He skimmed his fingertips over her tender flesh to her clit and toyed with the sensitive bud. Circles of his finger tightened her body, and flicks to the erect nub tore throaty groans from her.

  He chuckled. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes. Give me more.”

  She rocked over the head of his dick. More wetness flowed, bathing his cock and inviting him to delve into her hot, welcoming glove. He kept up the teasing to her clit and drove forward.

  “Harder. Fuck me harder, Wyn.”

  “Patience, darling. You wanted me to show you how much I love you. Now quiet, or I’ll drag this lesson out all—”

  A muffled thump reached his ears. He froze and scanned the room. The doors remained closed, and nothing unusual caught his eye.

  “Wyn, what is it?” She glanced at him with troubled eyes.

  “Sshh.” He ran his hand over her hair in an effort to calm her and listened for any more noises. Only their breathing filled the silence. He met her gaze. “Nothing. I thought I heard something, but I was wrong.”

  She started to ease away, and his dick slid out of her welcoming body. “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her back while he drove forward. Her words trailed off on a shaky exhale, and he closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her silken core holding him tight. He flexed his fingers on her hips. “No, we should finish loving each other, not stop.”

  “Should we?”

  “Yes.”

  She rolled her hips in a screwing drive, her core clenching around him the whole time. “Is that a demand?”

  “Only if you want to come, darling. You do want to feel good, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, a naughty lift of her lips that promised sin, and roughly pushed her bottom against him. He gripped her hips and helped her fuck him. Their bodies smacked with every thrust. He gave himself over to the needs riding him. He quickened the pace and pounded into her. Each stroke came faster and harder than the last. Her body tried to hold him close. Her muscles quivered. Her breaths turned into short pants, but she fucked him, worked him, and took him to the edge.

  She was going to come. He felt it. Heard the sharp change in her breathing. He wanted him to join her. On the next stroke, he pushed deep and let go. His cock jerked. Spasms danced along his length, dragging his seed free, and drawing out his release until he shook from the rawness of it. He gave her everything—his love, passion, and commitment. She was his world, the reason he lived, what he’d build his future on. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding her of it.

  Chapter 19

  Iona glanced over her shoulder. She loved the look Wyn wore after sex—exposed, raw, and satisfied. Knowing she put it there filled her with pride. He eased from her body, and she shuddered with the loss of him. He stepped back and snatched a cloth napkin from the nearest table.

  “Wyn.” She held a hand out to him.

  He twined their fingers and pulled her to him, no denial or hesitation despite getting what he wanted from her.

  “Yeah?”

  A dozen different thoughts bounced through her head. She settled on the most important one. “I want to get out of here.”

  A smile spread over his handsome face. The dimples she loved winked at her. “I like that idea. Let’s clean up. Then we’ll let your friends know we’re leaving, okay?”

  “Yes, okay.”

  He led her to the bathrooms opposite the dance floor and waited outside the door for her to finish. Hand in hand, they walked into the hall. She pointed at a corridor off the main one. “Avery set up his monitors down there.”

  “I doubt he stayed, but we can check.”

  Halfway down the hall, her gaze strayed to the floor. A few red blotches dotted the cream, plush carpeting. She squeezed his hand. “Wyn, look. The—”

  He clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned close, pressing his lips to her ear. “I see it.” He walked her to the side of the hall. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”

  She nodded, and he gave her shoulders a small squeeze before releasing her and moving soundlessly down the hall. The door at the far end stood partially open. He slipped inside. She wanted to follow him, but his order locked her feet into place. All she could do was wait. And pray. She had a bad feeling about this.

  Wyn’s muttered curse reached her, proving her right. She stepped away from her spot against the wall and craned her neck to try to see into the room he’d entered. Heavy breathing behind her alerted her to the danger they were in, but a hand clamped over her mouth and nose before she could scream.

  Something silky slipped around her neck. The cloth tightened. She clawed at the material, then the hand. Neither would loosen. The man holding her yanked on the strap and hauled her backward.

  She couldn’t breathe. Panic seized her. She thrashed in his hold. She needed to get away or make enough noise that Wyn would hear her. Her attacker’s hand over her face made dragging in air impossible. Her lungs burned and tears stung her eyes, but she fought with everything she had.

  The guy jogged down the hall, dragging her with him and leaving Wyn behind.

  No! She struggled against his bruising grip until dots spread over her eyes, but the distance between her and Wyn grew.

  They reached the elevator. The two bodyguards she’d met earlier in the night stood in front of it. Hope bloomed. It fizzled in the next heartbeat. They didn’t intervene.

  The elevator door opened. They moved to the side, and the sight revealed stopped her heart. Dmitry leaned against the rear wall, a wicked sneer on his face. Realization struck. The guards weren’t Avery’s men. They worked for Dmitry. Or his uncles. Oh God, oh God.

  The man holding her carried her into the elevator.

  Dmitry closed the small space between them. He gripped her shoulders and slammed her into the elevator wall. A garbled cry escaped her.

  Mouth at her ear, he whispered, “I never would’ve thought my little princess would turn into a whore. I watched you fuck that pathetic excuse of a man. I hope you enjoyed it. He’ll die tonight, and you’ll relearn what it means to be my girl.”

  She looked into the eyes she’d stared into for what seemed like a lifetime and knew Wyn was right. Dmitry would hurt her, and if she didn’t get away, his cold blue eyes would be
the last she’d see. He was going to kill her because she’d never be his again.

  * * *

  Wyn crouched next to Avery’s slumped form. Blood trickled from a gash on the side of his head. More soaked his hair from where he’d been hit with the butt of a gun. The empty weapon lay on the desk next to him. Wyn pressed his fingers to Avery’s neck. A steady pulse thumped against his fingertips. He exhaled in relief.

  He pulled out his cell and debated who to call. The small pistol resembled the ones the other guards had been carrying. Maybe it was a coincidence, but he couldn’t imagine the man he’d spoken with being taken by surprise. Yet Avery had been. He hadn’t even gotten out of his chair.

  Wyn cursed. He couldn’t assume the guards he’d met earlier weren’t the ones who’d knocked Avery out.

  He dialed 911. An operator answered.

  “I’d like to report an attack at—”

  A muffled cry from the hallway stopped his words. He flicked his gaze to the door. A soft thump reached his ears.

  Iona.

  He blurted the hotel’s address and the floor, then ended the call and rushed to the door. A man stepped in front of the doorway. Tall, wide, and dressed in a tux, he resembled the other two security guards Wyn had met.

  A small smile played on the guy’s mouth. “Going somewhere?”

  Wyn didn’t bother responding. He punched him. The guard stumbled backward. A surprised look passed over his face. Wyn swept his foot out, toppling the other man before he could react.

  “Motherfu—”

  Wyn rammed his fist into the guy’s face. Another couple of whacks, and the guard’s eyes rolled back in his head. Wyn jumped away from him, grateful for all the fistfights he’d gotten into over the years.

  A scraping sound came from behind him. He spun. A guard, similar to the ones he’d just fought, dragged Iona into the open elevator. A blond man waited inside it.

  Dmitry. It had to be.

  Wyn’s worst nightmare had come true. The love of his life was in the hands of a monster.

  “Iona!”

  He cursed and ran down the hall. Anger and fear warred within him. The doors whooshed closed, blocking Iona from him.

  He turned his rage onto the two guards who charged him. Wyn kicked one, knocking him into the wall, and pivoted, fists raised, to meet the other. The guy pulled a gun. Wyn ducked, and the shot whizzed by his head. Before the guard could aim again, Wyn dropped to one knee and threw a punch, catching the shooter in his stomach.

  The man behind Wyn locked an arm around his waist and yanked him backward. Wyn twisted in his hold, grabbed the guy’s nuts, and squeezed. A scream ripped from the man’s mouth. A punch to the face, and he fell.

  Shouts carried from the opposite end of the hall. The hotel’s security guards ran toward him. Help had arrived, but a muttered curse from behind him yanked Wyn’s attention back to the guy on the ground. Wyn turned, ready to take on the guard with the gun, only to find him fleeing down the hall.

  Wyn pointed in the direction the fake guard had gone. “Another went that way. Dmitry Kozar kidnapped my girlfriend. I’m going after him.”

  The second elevator opened. Could he run down nine flights faster than riding the elevator? He didn’t know and couldn’t take the chance. He got in and hit the button for the garage, a wild guess but a logical one, at least in his mind.

  “Wait, you shouldn’t—”

  The doors closed, cutting off the hotel guard’s warning. Wyn didn’t care what danger awaited him. He’d save Iona. Failure wasn’t an option.

  He paced the confines of the elevator. Memories of time spent with Iona assaulted him. Three weeks together, and his mind was cluttered with images of her—laughing with him, loving him, and taking him to heaven. Conversations they’d had replayed in his head and mixed with the slideshow. He could probably recall every one. For a man who could never completely focus on a woman unless she was with him, it was downright scary and amazing at the same time.

  She was perfect for him—the girl he’d always wanted but had never known he was looking for. It was her giggle the first day he’d met her that had sparked his interest. Everything since had only solidified his feelings. He loved her. Deep in his bones he knew she was the only woman for him.

  He couldn’t lose her. If he did…

  No! He’d promised to step in and save her if she was ever in danger. The sight of her in that bastard’s arms with a necktie wrapped around her throat upped the stakes. The situation had gone from abduction to one of life or death, and the flash of depravity in Dmitry’s eyes told Wyn the love of his life would suffer before she died.

  Not. Fucking. Happening.

  He couldn’t let Dmitry leave the hotel with her. Wyn would never see her again. His chest tightened, and his eyes burned with the thought. He squeezed them shut until the pricking lessened.

  The elevator rocked and stopped. He glanced at the display. The number seven was lit.

  “Shit.” He clenched his hands. He didn’t have time for other people to slow him down.

  The doors opened. A middle-aged couple got onto the elevator. Wyn stepped around them.

  “Excuse me,” he called out over his shoulder.

  He rushed toward the stairs. The door banged into the wall with his shove. The stairwell below him weaved back and forth past the floors. He leaped the smaller sections and ran down the rest of the flights. His chest heaved and sweat beaded on his brow. He pushed his body harder.

  The door to the basement stood at the bottom of the last section. He rammed his shoulder into it while twisting the handle. It flung open, and he ducked, anticipating another shot directed at his head. None came.

  He stood and scanned the underground garage. Cars and trucks in all makes and models lined the rows. The sound of a car’s stereo system reached him, but nothing else.

  Wyn jogged deeper into the first row, looking for anything that might clue him in to where Iona might be. If he had to guess, Dmitry was driving something expensive. The only problem was…everything in front of him belonged on the cover of some car magazine.

  He stopped and stared at the parked vehicles. Not another soul moved in the garage.

  “I lost her.”

  But more than that, he’d failed her.

  Chapter 20

  Iona groaned. She wrapped her arms around her abused middle. Her ribs ached and groin stung from where Dmitry had repeatedly rammed his knee into her crotch. She tried to take shallow breaths, but each inhale sent more whipping pain through her. Tears poured from her eyes. She couldn’t stop them.

  Dmitry grabbed a section of her hair and tugged. She yelped but forced herself to stand. His sweaty, depraved face came into view.

  He brushed his thumb over her wet cheeks. “You look like a cheap clown, princess, but don’t worry. As soon as we get home, you can bathe and dress in one of the outfits I bought you.”

  “Let me go, Dmitry. I won’t press charges. I…”

  He raised his hand. She flinched, and he laughed. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Aww, love, I won’t leave a mark on your face. It’s too pretty. Until you learn your place, I’ll only hurt you in spots we can cover up, okay?”

  She cringed. He was crazy, and she’d been a fool not to realize it sooner. The clues were all there.

  No. She couldn’t keep regretting the past and being with Dmitry didn’t make her stupid or naïve. She was just a woman who wanted to be loved and looked to the wrong man for it.

  The reasoning gave her strength. There was no use berating herself. She’d acted once she recognized the truth. That was the most important thing. She was strong. She’d survive this. She had to. There was a man waiting for her who did love her. Wyn would heal her heart again…if she got away from Dmitry. And if Wyn wasn’t already dead.

  No! He was fighting to get to her. She refused to believe otherwise.

  The guy who’d grabbed her stepped next to them. “We shouldn’t waste any more time, sir.”

 
Dmitry flashed him an irritated glare. “You’re right. Iona is eager to get home.”

  The fake guard turned and hit a button. The elevator doors slid open. They stepped outside. An oomph came from the man on Dmitry’s right. She was yanked out of Dmitry’s arms. She caught a glimpse of brown eyes.

  Wyn pushed her behind him, then knocked Dmitry to the ground. Wyn followed him down and landed a punch before Dmitry rolled away.

  Dmitry hopped to his feet, hands clenching and releasing at his sides. “You’re the man who dirtied her.” He stepped closer. “Never again. She’s mine.”

  Wyn didn’t answer. He lunged at Dmitry, shoving him down a second time. Wyn rammed his elbow into Dmitry’s neck once, then twice more. A grunt escaped her ex. He pushed at Wyn’s chest. The shove didn’t move him. Wyn raised a balled fist and pummeled Dmitry’s face, over and over.

  The sound of bone cracking rent the air. Dmitry’s scream followed. Still Wyn continued to punch him.

  He was going to kill him. She couldn’t let that happen. Wyn would be charged with murder. Taken away from her. No!

  “Wyn, stop!”

  He didn’t. She rushed forward and grabbed his arm before he could deliver another hit. He stilled and whipped his head in her direction. A wild look shone in his eyes. It faded in the next moment. Concern and relief wiped the rage from his face.

  Wyn jumped to his feet, took her hand, and drew her away from Dmitry.

  “Iona.” He wrapped his arms around her. She cried out, and he eased back. “Oh baby, what did he do?”

  “Beat me. I’m okay now. You’re here.”

  He ran trembling hands over her sides. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop from crying out again. “I’m going to kill him.”

  She fisted the lapels of his jacket. “No. He’ll go to prison. That’s worse.” She wasn’t sure she believed her words, but she’d say anything to stop Wyn.

  Sounds carried from behind them. People yelling. The thump of pounding feet. The squeal of radios. She blocked it out and focused on Wyn’s face. “You saved me.”