Bind Me (Capture Me #2)

by Anna Zaires

  Startled, I glance toward the window and see a flash of dark hair ducking out of sight.

  “What is it?” Lucas’s tone is sharp as he registers my distraction. Following my gaze, he looks at the window and lets out a low curse before releasing me and stepping toward it.

  As he leans closer to the glass, I slip around him, putting the table between us. My body is thrumming with heat, but I’m glad for the reprieve. I need to digest what Lucas told me, and I can’t do that while he’s fucking my brains out.

  The untouched sandwich on the table draws my attention. I’m no longer hungry, but I pick up the sandwich and bite into it just as Lucas turns to face me, his lips a thin, hard line.

  “Who was that?” I ask, my words muffled by a mouthful of food. I need time, and this is the only way I can think of to extend my reprieve. Chewing determinedly, I wave my sandwich at the window. “Did someone come see you?”

  His jaw muscle flexes. “No. Not exactly.” Lucas stalks around the table and takes a seat on the other side, his pale eyes boring into me. “You saw someone out there. Who was it?”

  I swallow, the sandwich dry and tasteless in my mouth. “I don’t know. I only saw the person’s hair from the back,” I say truthfully. What I don’t say, however, is that I have a very good reason to suspect who the owner of that hair might be.

  “Male? Female?” Lucas presses. “Hair long? Short?”

  I deliberately take another bite of the sandwich and chew it as I mull his question over. “A woman,” I say when I can speak again. He wouldn’t believe me if I pretended not to notice something so obvious. “Hair in a bun, and I think she was wearing a dark dress.”

  Lucas nods, as if I confirmed his suspicion. “All right,” he says, his expression smoothing out.

  Then he picks up his own sandwich and starts eating it, watching me the entire time.

  12

  Lucas

  We finish the meal in silence, the air across the table thick with sexual tension. As I watch Yulia consume the last crumbs of her meal, my cock strains in the tight confines of my jeans, throbbing painfully.

  If Rosa hadn’t chosen that unfortunate moment to play stalker, I would already be inside Yulia, nailing her against the wall.

  I shocked my prisoner. I can see it in the heightened color of her cheeks and the way her gaze slides away from mine. Did she believe me? Did she realize I was being sincere? The solution to the dilemma of what to do with her came to me as I was walking home, and I knew instantly that was the only way.

  I’m going to do exactly as my instincts demand and keep Yulia.

  Once, such an action would’ve been unimaginable. When I was in high school, if someone told me that I would so much as think about holding a woman against her will, I would’ve laughed. Even when I was in the Navy, long after I knew I was capable of doing whatever the job required without a flicker of remorse, I still clung to the morals of my childhood, trying to resist the pull of darkness within myself. It was only when I became a wanted man that I fully understood my nature and the extent of my willingness to cross lines I once viewed as sacred.

  Keeping Yulia for my own is nothing in the grand scheme of things, and it’s certainly better than the fate I originally planned for her.

  “So how exactly would this work?” she asks, finally breaking the silence. Her eyes lock on my face. “You’re going to keep me tied up in the chair all day and handcuffed to you all night?”

  I smile at her, anticipation sizzling through my veins. “Only if that turns you on, beautiful. If not, I think we can work out a better arrangement.” I’m already thinking of the tracker implants Esguerra used on his wife. I could do something similar with Yulia, making sure at least one of the trackers is implanted where it would be all but impossible to remove.

  First, though, I’ll need to make sure the agency she works for is wiped out; otherwise, Yulia could use their resources to disappear, trackers or not.

  “You’ll untie me?” Her eyes are wide as she stares at me. “And let me go outside?”

  “I will.” Once her agency is destroyed and I have the trackers in her, that is. “But you need to tell me about your employers first. Who is the head of the program?”

  She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she rises to her feet and carries both of our empty paper plates to the garbage can in the corner. I watch her, making sure she doesn’t try anything, but she just throws out the plates and returns to the table.

  Stopping next to her chair, she looks at me. “How do I know I can trust you? Once I tell you what you want to know, you could just kill me.”

  “I could, but I won’t.” I get up and approach her side of the table. Stopping in front of her, I run my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek. “I want you too much for that.”

  The color in Yulia’s face deepens. “So, what? You’re going to spare me because you want to fuck me?” There’s disbelief mixed with derision in her voice. “Do you always let your dick decide who lives and who dies?”

  I chuckle, not the least bit offended. “No, beautiful. Just when he’s this insistent.”

  In fact, I can’t remember ever being swayed from my course of action by a woman. I’ve always enjoyed sex and female companionship, but the need for it has never been a ruling force in my life. My last longer-term relationship—a three-month affair in Venezuela—was before I started working with Esguerra, and I haven’t thought about that girl in years. My more recent encounters have been more along the lines of a one-night stand, or at best, a few days of casual fun.

  Yulia gives me a dubious look, her eyebrows arching, and I can’t wait any longer. She’s mine, and I’m going to do what my body’s been clamoring for during the past hour.

  “Let’s go,” I say, my fingers closing around her slender arm. “I think it’s time we commenced our arrangement.”

  * * *

  She’s silent as I lead her into the bedroom, her long, sleek legs drawing my attention as we walk. I suppose I’ll need to get her some clothes of her own soon, but for now, I like seeing her in my shirt, as baggy as it is on her slim frame.

  I know that by the moral standards of my childhood, what I’m doing to her is wrong. She’s my prisoner, and I’m not giving her any choice in this. I’m coercing her into a relationship she may not want, despite her physical response and seeming willingness to accept my touch. It would be tempting to justify my actions by telling myself that her job makes her fair game for such treatment, but I know better.

  She was forced into this life by circumstances beyond her control, and I’m a cruel bastard for taking advantage of her.

  As I strip off Yulia’s shirt, pulling it over her head, I wait for my conscience to rear up, but all I’m cognizant of is a powerful craving for her. The things I’ve done in the past eight years—the things I’ve had to do to survive—rid me of whatever morals my family managed to instill, ripping away the layer of civilization that had always been skin-deep. The man who stands before Yulia now bears no resemblance to the boy who left his upper-middle-class home sixteen years earlier, and my conscience remains dormant as I drop the shirt on the floor and rake my gaze over my captive’s naked body.

  “Lie down,” I tell her, my voice roughening with lust. “I want you on your back.”

  She hesitates, and I wonder if she’s going to fight me after all. It would be pointless—even at her full strength, she’d be no match for me—but I wouldn’t put it past her to try something anyway.

  To my relief, she doesn’t. Instead, she climbs onto the bed and lies down, watching me.

  I approach her, my cock swelling even more. Though Yulia is still overly thin, her body is gorgeously proportioned, with a tiny waist, feminine hips, and high, round breasts. Her bright golden hair is like a halo on the pillow, framing a face that appears to be straight out of some fashion magazine. With her finely drawn features, thickly lashed eyes, and perfect skin, she’s almost too pretty to fuck.

  “Almost” being the key word.<
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  Still, I rein in my savage lust. I don’t want to hurt her. She’s had too much of that, at my hands and at those of others. Just thinking about that—about other men touching her—makes me murderous with fury.

  If a man ever lays a hand on Yulia again, he’ll pay with his life.

  Climbing onto the bed, I throw my knee over her thighs and cage her between my arms. I’m determined to control myself this time, so I hold myself raised on all fours without touching her. Her chest is rising and falling with shallow breaths as she stares up at me, and I know she’s nervous.

  Nervous and aroused, judging by her erect nipples and flushed skin.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I murmur, bending over one of those tender nipples. She doesn’t move, but I can feel the tension in her body as I press my mouth to the pink aureola. The nipple contracts further at my touch, and I close my lips around the taut peak, sucking on it gently. She gasps, her hands curling into fists at her sides, and her eyes close, her head arching back on the pillow.

  “Yes, utterly gorgeous,” I whisper, turning my attention to the other nipple. It tastes like her, like warm feminine skin and peaches. After I suck on it, I blow cool air over the distended bud and am rewarded with a small moan.

  I move on to the rest of her breasts then, nibbling and sucking on the plump, delicate flesh, touching her with nothing but my mouth. Her body is a sensuous feast, every curve, dip, and hollow silky-soft, her scent intoxicating. Even with the lust raging inside me, I can’t help lingering over the underside of her breasts, her ribcage, her navel… Moving lower, I taste the tender flesh at the top of her slit, and then push my tongue between her pussy folds.

  She cries out, tensing, and I feel her hands on my head, her nails digging into my scalp as I find her clit and press my tongue against it. She’s wet—I can taste her arousal—and the uniquely female flavor sends a surge of blood straight to my cock. My balls tighten, drawing close to my body, and my arms tremble with the urge to grab her and thrust inside her, to take her as I’ve been dying to do since the interruption in the kitchen.

  “Lucas.” The word is a breathless gasp as she twists underneath me, her hips rising in a silent plea as her nails rake over my hair. “Oh, God, Lucas…”

  Ruthlessly tamping down my own need, I focus on her, using my mouth to keep her on the edge without sending her over. I lave every inch of her pussy with my tongue, then capture her labia in my mouth and suck on the tender folds, knowing the pulling motion will squeeze her clit. Her cries grow louder, her nails sharper on my skull, and I fist my hands in the sheets to keep from reaching for her. I want to give her this pleasure first, make her feel some of the hunger that consumes me around her.

  “Lucas!” She’s thrashing now, her heels digging into the mattress on each side of me, and I know she can’t bear much more. Sliding my hand between her thighs, I push two fingers into her and suck on her clit at the same time.

  Her back bows as she cries out, and I feel her clenching on my fingers, her flesh rippling around me in release. I wait just long enough to feel her contractions begin to ease, and then I move up her body. Holding myself up on my elbows, I push her legs apart with my knees and line my cock up against her opening.

  “Yulia.” I wait for her to open her eyes, her gaze still dazed and unseeing, and then I give in to my own desperate need, driving into her in a single deep thrust. She gasps, her hands moving up to clutch my sides, and I’m finally lost. Mindless lust descends on me, and I begin pounding into her, taking her hard and fast.

  Vaguely, I’m aware that her legs fold around my hips and she starts matching me thrust for thrust, but I’m too far gone to slow down. She’s wet, soft, and tight around me, her inner muscles squeezing my cock, and the tension that builds inside me is uncontrollable, volcanic. It grows and intensifies, my heartbeat roaring in my ears, and then the sensations finally crest, the orgasm hitting me with brutal intensity. Grasping her tightly, I groan as I jet my seed into her body in a series of long, draining spurts.

  To my shock, she cries out again, and I feel her tightening around me once more, her body spasming in her second climax. My cock jerks with an answering aftershock, and then I collapse to the side, pulling her to lie on top of me.

  There are no thoughts in my mind except one.

  I’m never letting her go.

  13

  Yulia

  “You fucked me without a condom again,” I say when I can find the breath to speak. I’m lying next to Lucas, my head resting on his shoulder as I wait for my galloping heartbeat to slow.

  My captor chuckles, the sound a masculine rumble in his chest. “Oh, yes. I forgot about your million diseases. Well, you’ll be glad to hear that I got the test results back from Goldberg, and you only have crabs.”

  “What?” Horrified, I jerk to a sitting position, but he’s already laughing, deep guffaws escaping his throat as he sits up as well.

  “You asshole!” Furious, I grab a pillow and smack him with it, wishing it had a brick inside it. “That’s not funny!”

  Laughing even harder, Lucas grabs me and wrestles me back down to the mattress, rolling on top of me to hold me in place. With maddening ease, he captures my wrists, pinning them above my head as he subdues my kicking legs with his powerful thighs. “Actually,” he says, grinning, “I thought it was hilarious.”

  “Oh, really?” Unable to throw Lucas off, I use the only weapon I have left. Lifting my head, I sink my teeth into the muscular junction between his shoulder and neck.

  “Ouch! You little animal.” Transferring my wrists into his left hand, he fists my hair with his right, pulling my head down on the mattress. To my annoyance, he’s still grinning, not the least bit fazed by the red mark my teeth left on his skin. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Is that right?” Despite my helpless position, the old memories are dormant, leaving me free to focus on my anger. “Why’s that?”

  “Because”—he lowers his head, bringing his mouth close to my ear—“you made me want you.” And raising his head to meet my gaze, he nudges his hardening cock against my thigh, leaving no doubt of his meaning.

  Incredulous, I stare at him, seeing the now-familiar glow of heat in his wintry eyes. “Are you kidding me? Again?”

  “Yes, beautiful.” His mouth curves in a darkly carnal smile as he wedges his knee between my thighs, forcing them open. “Again and again.”

  * * *

  It’s well over an hour before I’m able to take refuge in the bathroom and gather my scattered thoughts. My body is sore and aching, worn out by the endless orgasms, and the residue of sex is crusted on my thighs. After I take care of my most pressing needs, I turn on the shower to take a quick rinse.

  Before I can get in, the door opens and Lucas steps in, still fully nude. “Good idea,” he says, glancing at the running water. “Let’s go in.”

  Horrified, I gape at my insatiable jailer. “You can’t possibly.”

  He grins, white teeth flashing. “I could, but I won’t. I know you need a break. Come here, baby.” Grasping my arm, he pulls me into the stall. “It’s just a shower, I promise.”

  He’s true to his word, his big hands soaping me without lingering more than a few moments on my breasts and sex. Even so, I’m aware of a slow heated pulse between my thighs as he washes me thoroughly, his fingers sliding between my folds and up into the crevice of my ass. Shocked, I clench my buttocks as the tip of his finger presses into that hole, and he lets out a soft laugh, releasing me when I push at him.

  “All right, I can wait,” he says agreeably, and I turn away, my stomach roiling at the knowledge that it’s only a matter of time before he takes me that way too, regardless of my thoughts on the matter.

  Thankfully, Lucas finishes washing himself quickly and steps out of the stall. “Come out when you’re ready,” he says as he towels off, and then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the shower.

  Exhausted, I slump against the wall, letting the water beat down on my
chest. My nipples are painfully sensitive, as is my swollen, aching sex. Prior to meeting Lucas, I had no idea that pleasure could be so draining, that it could take everything out of me, both physically and mentally. I can’t resist him, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s my captor.

  Even if I were free, I’d never be able to deny him.

  Protection in exchange for sex. The words circle through my mind, filling me with a confusing mix of outrage and longing. Is it possible he meant it? Did he really bring me halfway across the globe to be his sex toy?

  It seems ridiculous—except I felt the strength of his desire for me. Even now, my body aches from his relentless passion. Would Lucas really do that? Let bygones be bygones and simply keep me if I tell him about my agency? When I was thinking of establishing a bond with him earlier, I was hoping to buy myself some time without pain and a shot at escape before I’m killed. However, if what he says is true, my not-so-terrible captivity could go on indefinitely—or at least until Esguerra demands my head on a platter.

  No matter what Lucas says about favors owed, I don’t believe his boss will spare me forever. Sooner or later, Esguerra will want to get his pound of flesh, and then I’m dead. And even if, by some miracle, Lucas really can protect me, he won’t do so for long.

  He’ll throw me to the wolves once he realizes I’m not going to give him the answers he seeks.

  Straightening away from the wall, I turn off the water and step out of the stall. As I towel off, I try to figure out if this turn of events changes anything and decide that it doesn’t.

  All it means is I’ve gotten incredibly lucky.

  I will have time to plan my escape.

  14

  Lucas

  When Yulia comes out of the bathroom, I give her a clean T-shirt to wear and take her back to the living room, my body humming with the bone-deep satisfaction only sex with her can bring.