Sold Into Salvation

by Colbie Carter

  “That hurt?” he asked.

  “I—I don't know.” Her voice shook. “It burns a little.”

  He went back to just using one finger, and Brooke immediately forgot about his attempt at further penetration. She rocked her hips, meeting the slow motion of his finger. All he could think about at that moment was, if his finger inside her felt this incredible, he couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel to have his cock inside her. He shuddered again at the thought, his hips involuntarily rocking to follow the motion of his finger. All in due time.

  He moaned quietly as he ran his nose up her neck. “You feel incredible.”

  “So... do you,” she breathed. He added to the stimulation by pressing his thumb to her clit, rubbing in slow, small circles. Brooke's head flopped back as her hips vaulted off the couch, meeting his hand and increasing the pressure.

  Oh, you haven't felt anything yet. He picked up the pace with his finger and thumb, pumping gently and swirling his thumb a little faster. Brooke's rapid breathing began to turn into desperate pants, punctuated by little whimpers and purrs, and her hips moved in circles against his hand in a hypnotizing dance. Her eyes were closed, her eyebrows pinched together, her lips parted in ecstasy. Oh, yeah, she was close.

  Her eyes opened, and she looked up at him. She looked confused, her hands gripping his back tight as she bit down hard on her lower lip, her breathing becoming even faster, frantic. Then he felt it; her delicate feminine walls began to flutter around his finger, her wetness spreading and making the contact of his thumb on her clit extra slippery.

  Her heels dug into the couch cushion, her moans turning into panicked whimpers.

  “Shh, iubita,” Dorin crooned. “Don't fight it.”

  A few more strokes of his thumb, and she fell apart. Brooke bowed up on the couch, her head flopped back against the armrest, and her eyes slammed shut. She let out a shaky, broken moan as her fingers dug hard into his back. He was sure that without the protection of his t-shirt, her fingernails would have cut into his skin. Not that it would have bothered him, he'd happily let her draw a little blood on him to see that beautiful face unravel again.

  She cried out as she hit her peak, her moans of climax becoming sobs of pure joy. Her eyes finally opened, her face soft and luminous. She looked completely satiated, exuberant, and euphoric. He gave her a moment to come down from her heaven, his fingers continuing a slow, lazy glide for another moment before withdrawing. She closed her eyes again, blowing out a long breath, a smile spreading across her face.

  Finally opening her eyes again, she gave him a smile that made his insides melt, turning him into putty on top of her. It was a smile of gratitude, affection, adoration. He mirrored her smile, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

  “Well?” He let his lips linger on the bridge of her nose. “How'd that feel?”

  “I...” She began, her smile spreading wider. “I can't describe it. 'Amazing' just doesn't seem to cover it.”

  Dorin couldn't stop the ear-to-ear grin, nor could he deny the intense swell of pride that he felt knowing he was the one who made her feel that good. “And that's not even the best part.” He slid his lips along her cheek, and brushed his nose in her hair. He couldn't get enough of touching her hair, it was so soft, so thick, and smelled so good.

  She gave him a playful nip on his ear. “Are we getting to that part now?” He nearly vaulted off the couch when he felt her small hand reach down and cup the front of his jeans, where his aching erection strained against the denim.

  Ah, shit. She had no idea how much he wanted to. Nothing could possibly be better in that moment than feeling her hands on him, and then sinking inside her.

  “Uh-uh,” he grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her hand away from his fly. “Not yet.”

  She made a little sound of protest with a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. “Why not? I want to. I want you to make love to me.”

  He had to bite back a groan at the need that saturated her voice when she said those words. No woman, ever, had said those words to him. God, it felt so good.

  “Because,” he gave her a little peck on her lips, “we both need sleep.”

  “But it's daytime.”

  “Brooke,” he couldn't keep from laughing, “I'm flattered by your enthusiasm. But I'm tired, you're tired, I can see it in your eyes. Let's go lie down and sleep for a while.”

  He couldn't remember the last time he slept in the same bed as a woman. God, it had to have been years. But as he crawled under the quilt on the queen-sized bed, he immediately relaxed when Brooke curled up next to him.

  “Come here.” He pulled her close into him, tucking her against his side. She snuggled up to him, and laid her head on his chest.

  This feels good...

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  How the fuck did this happen? He sent his three best men after Cuza and that American bitch, and all three of them wound up dead in the middle of the street. He’d tragically underestimated the fucker, and he would tear heaven and earth apart to find them both.

  “And no one knows where Kennedy disappeared to?” It didn't surprise him that the spineless bastard tucked tail and ran.

  “No, he's gone off the grid. Ditched his cell phone, hasn't used any of his credit cards.” Costin replied. Costin wasn't his favorite enforcer and guard, but he was low on manpower now.

  Christ, he needed a drink. This entire situation had turned to shit in the blink of an eye. He was never loaning money to people ever again, it was too much of a liability. And most of them never paid it back anyway.

  As he swallowed a healthy mouthful of vodka, his cell phone rang. “Da?” Yes? He answered, rubbing his brow to dispel the tension in his forehead.

  It was Mihai. Anytime he needed information, he called him. The man was a computer genius, and could find anything. Or anyone.

  “We may have a lead.”

  Anton's mood improved, even if only slightly. In his experience, whenever Mihai said he had a lead, he usually had a damn good one. “I'm listening.”

  “A car was reported stolen less than a block away from where your guys tried to take on Cuza, and around the same time.”

  “Is that supposed to be a lead?” His momentary mood improvement had dwindled. “Unless that car has a GPS tracker, that doesn't tell me shit.”

  “You're going to owe me handsomely for this.” There was a pause. “It does. It has a post-factory installed anti-theft device. Kind of like OnStar on American vehicles. It’s likely Cuza missed it.”

  Anton nearly jumped from his chair. “And did you track it?”

  “What, you think I'm an idiot? Of course I did.”

  “And are you going to tell me where?” He was not in the mood to be played with.

  “Sofia.”

  Sofia? Cuza fled to Bulgaria? Probably to a safe house if he had to guess. He had encountered operatives in his circle before, so he had a basic understanding of how they worked. Need to tuck and run? You usually went to a safe house set up by your agency.

  But how would they find out where this safe house was? Mihai was good, but it was unlikely he could hack the U.S. government, and he was sure any and all phone lines would be encrypted. The Americans were dumb about a lot of things, but their intelligence agencies were brutal and smart.

  Anton took another drink of his vodka, biting his lip as he thought for a moment. “That's a good place to start. See what else you can dig up, and I'll send a few men in that direction for when we know more. Well done.” He hung up the phone.

  Sofia was a big city, and there was no guarantee that Cuza and Kennedy's daughter were still there. He could have ditched the car in Sofia, swiped another one, and headed elsewhere.

  Either way, Cuza's, er, Milosovici's, days were numbered. He'd find him, he was certain of it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Bună ziua, printesa.” She could hear the voice, but couldn't see him. Oh, God. It was the guy in the sport coat. The man from the restaurant. Those words, as
she had come to learn, meant “Hello, princess,” and they were now poisonous and frightening.

  She looked around frantically, searching for the source of the voice. She didn't know which direction to run for escape, only that she couldn't stay there. She was in the basement, dungeon, whatever that place was, and had no idea where the exit was.

  So she just started running, as fast as she could, in the first direction she saw. The hallway went on forever, so many doors, all with other women crying and screaming behind them. Oh, God, I can't help them. How would she get all of them out?

  She finally reached the end of the hall, coming to a T. Left, right, which way? On a split-second decision, she careened right, around a corner. She came to a screeching halt when she saw the fancy guy standing in the hallway. He smiled his chilling, menacing smile that made the hairs on her arms stand.

  “Welcome back, Miss Kennedy.” She looked down at his hand, he held a mucosal atomizer, primed and ready to dose her with more of those God-awful drugs.

  She shook her head vigorously, turned and ran the other way.

  What the...? Fancy guy was there too! Was he a ghost, or a warlock who could materialize wherever he wanted?

  “You can't escape us, printesa, no one can.” His voice was a purr, rich and luxurious, but terrifying.

  No, no, no. She wasn't going to go with them. She'd be trapped for the rest of her life, being sold to men who only wanted to fuck and abuse her. Her virtue was still hers, still precious, and she would never surrender that to them. She'd die first.

  “Iubita,” She heard the sweetest, most soothing voice ever just behind her. She turned around, away from the fancy guy, and saw him. Her white knight. The basement walls dissolved, vanished, and suddenly they were in Dorin's hotel room. The one she woke up in the morning after the auction.

  She turned back around for just a second, the fancy guy was gone. She was safe.

  “Brooke,” she heard his voice again. “Brooke, wake up!”

  She jerked awake, shaky and disoriented. Dorin lay beside her in the bed, his hand holding her face to look at him. His blue eyes were intense with concern, his eyebrows pinched slightly as he studied her. She looked around; she was in the bedroom of the safe house, and it was nighttime. How long had they been asleep? She glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser on the other side of the room; it was only nine-thirty at night. She had slept for several hours.

  “Are you okay?” Dorin brushed her hair behind her ear. “You were having a nightmare.”

  Was she? Oh, right, she was. It was the first one since this had all started; it looked like the mental trauma was finally setting in and catching up to her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, nodding her head. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

  “You're sweating.” He brushed his fingers across her forehead. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No, not really.” To be completely honest, she wasn't sure she remembered much of it. She tried to grasp the fading wisps of her dream, to call back the specters that still haunted her mind. With another deep breath, she felt her pulse begin to slow to a comfortable rate as she snuggled closer against Dorin. He felt so good. Warm, strong, safe.

  So much had happened over the last couple of days between them, and very little of it had to do with the kidnapping, and being on the run. He made her feel things that she feared she wasn't capable of feeling. She craved his presence, melted under his touch, and her soul sang at the sound of his voice. Her body still buzzed with the residual shockwaves from her climax. Moreover, he had done it without intercourse. She was still curious as to why he held off on going further. She knew, without a doubt, that he wanted her; his body had vibrated with pent-up need, tightly restrained by who-knew-what.

  She had no idea how to process it all. What did it mean for them? He said he lived in D.C, which wasn't far from Baltimore; would he be willing to come visit her? Or want her to come see him? Was any kind of relationship possible for them given his job? Their conversation in the car on the way here flashed in her mind, how he had talked about planning to retire from the field. God, she was so confused.

  “Hey,” he called her from her ragged thoughts. “Where'd you go?” He ran his fingers through her hair. The drugging caress could easily hypnotize her.

  She shook her head. “Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  She bit her lip, taking a deep breath. “What's going to happen when we both get back to the States?”

  “What do you mean?” Dorin lifted an eyebrow. “We'll be debriefed, and you'll go home to Baltimore.”

  “I know that part. I mean, with us. Are we still going to talk and see each other when we get back?”

  Dorin sighed, continuing the delightful stroking of her hair. “I was hoping we would. I mean, yeah, my job isn't exactly conducive to a serious relationship right now, but that doesn't mean we can't have something. I would hope it's obvious I care about you.”

  His answer couldn't have been more perfect. She wanted to cry with the joy of it. Something was doable, totally possible. The rest, if anything, would come in time.

  “How about this,” Dorin continued. “When we get back, and everything settles down, I take you out on a date. A real, honest-to-God date: dinner, movie, whatever.”

  Brooke beamed with a wide smile. “Sure, I'd like that.” She lifted her head, and pressed a quick kiss on Dorin's mouth.

  At that moment, in the split-second contact of their lips, something clicked. Sparked. Blazed. They'd kissed several times over the past day, but something felt different this time. Even in the dark bedroom, lit only by a streetlight outside the window, she saw Dorin's azure eyes shoot completely black with a molten fire that she had never seen before. She felt the heat everywhere, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  He stared at her for just a moment, giving her only a second's warning before his mouth descended on hers. His hand captured her face, holding her in place with the same gentle dominance that she'd already grown to like. Only this time, there was no sweet and considerate probing of his tongue. No, his tongue tore past her lips, taking her mouth by force. His hand slid into her hair as he dueled with her mouth in blistering fervor, barely giving her a chance to breathe.

  And she loved it.

  Holy hell, did she love it.

  She knew without a doubt—this was it.

  With their lips still fused together, Dorin rolled her onto her back, kicking the bed linens away as he settled between her legs. One hand was still in her hair, and he tugged on the strands just enough to make her tip her head back in helpless offering. Gone was his restraint, replaced by an unstoppable need that she couldn't dare refuse. His mouth latched onto her neck; kissing, sucking, nipping. His lips, tongue, and teeth mapped every square inch of her skin from ear to collarbone. She gasped at the intensity of it.

  He suddenly stopped and reared back a little, taking a few ragged breaths.

  “Do you want this?” His voice sounded strained.

  Brooke nodded her head, and reached up to fist her hands in his t-shirt, pulling him back down on top of her. Their lips met once again, desperately trying to consume as much of the other as possible.

  Dorin reared back once again. “Sit up.” He backed away enough to give her room to pull herself upright, and then pulled her t-shirt over her head. Yanking his over his head, he tossed both shirts God-knew-where.

  Brooke's mind went completely blank as she stared in awe at the half-naked man in front of her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she followed every ridge, every line, and every dip in his lean, chiseled body. A light smattering of dark hair covered his chest and trailed down into a line bisecting his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. Even in the semi-darkness, her eyes were drawn to his left arm. From shoulder, to halfway to his elbow, his upper arm was covered in an intricate tattoo. She inspected it closer, running her fingers over the beautiful ink. A richly colored dragon wrapped its way around his upper arm. Eve
ry color in the rainbow popped from this tattoo, its lines and swirls expertly inked. It truly was breathtaking.

  “Wow...” she breathed, astonished. “It's amazing.”

  Dorin smiled. “I drew the design myself.”

  Her eyes widened. Dorin was an artist too?

  As if he didn't want any more attention drawn to his talents, he pushed the subject aside, and reached behind her to unhook the clasp on her bra. Brooke held her breath for a split second as the simple cotton bra fell away from her breasts, the sensation of the straps sliding down her arms giving her goosebumps.

  Dorin was not the first man to see her naked. One of the men who captured her stole that privilege from him. With a few quick breaths to center herself, she risked a glance up at Dorin. She feared he would find her breasts too small, not voluptuous enough. Instead, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were glued to her chest. He was completely entranced. She suddenly lost all self-consciousness over her thin frame. She had always been skinny, with no feminine curves or softness, but for the first time in her life, she truly felt sexy. Without thinking, she leaned back on her elbows, automatically jutting her breasts out more.

  He leaned over her, his lips brushing along her sternum, slowly working his way down. With a deep sigh, she fell back onto the bed, letting him have free reign to do as he wished.

  She had never considered her nipples, merely something attached to her that currently served no useful purpose. However, her dismissal of that part of her anatomy flew out the window when Dorin's mouth slid further down, and his tongue brushed over one of her peaked nipples. She couldn't stop a gasp at the intensely pleasurable sensation. Suddenly, they ached and throbbed, and her breasts felt twice their size. The throbbing seemed to pulse in time with the powerful tingle between her legs. She didn't remember the sensation of his hands on her breasts feeling as amazing as this.

  His tongue lapped over her nipple again before his mouth closed around it and sucked. Whoa! They were that sensitive? Who knew? He switched to the other nipple, and she grabbed the back of his head to hold him there, to prolong the sharp pleasure. Her eyes drifted closed, and she was helpless to do anything but enjoy what he was doing to her.