by Madison Faye
Beautiful. Angelic. Pure.
Soft skin, plump red lips, and dark hair tousled across her face. Her small, fragile body was cradled in my arms as I carried her through the massive lodge-style house to my bedroom. She shifted slightly, and the sweet swell of her perfect tits pressed into my chest, making my cock twitch between my thighs.
I bit back the growl, my grip tightening on her and my ability to hold back the animal inside of me faltering.
…I’d been up there too long.
Alone, sequestered. Without a woman’s touch.
I groaned inside as I lay my angel down on the big bed, and when I stood, I realized my hands were clenched into fists and my heart was racing as I gazed down at her.
Fuck she was gorgeous. Gorgeous, so innocent looking, and so clearly out of her element. Her clothes — what was left of them — said “weekend tourist” to these woods. Black yoga pants, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker.
Or, like I said, what was left of them.
My blood seared through my veins as I looked down at her and the clothes that were now half burned and shredded from her tight little body. The yoga pants were all but torn away — mere scraps of fabric clinging weakly to those sweet thighs and curvy hips, and the t-shirt and windbreaker so far burned that I’d torn them off of her on my run back here to the house.
My place of isolation. My retreat here on the far ridge of Blackthorn Mountain.
I’d been up here for two years — two fucking years with barely any human contact, aside from the few other loners who lived up here, away from it all. I’d come to Blackthorn when it was clear staying anywhere else would mean a constant threat on my life. You see, you don’t walk away from the Russian Bratva — the mob — and live.
Well, most people don’t. I did — at least, so far.
I’d seen too much. I’d done too much, killed too many innocents, and crossed too many lines to be able to keep on doing it and live with myself. So I’d walked, mid-job, where I was supposed to put a bullet in a man’s head in front of his wife and children, to send a message. Trouble was, that message meant fuck all to me, and it had been standing there with the gun in my hand and his family’s cries in my ears that I’d realized I’d lose myself if I kept it up.
So I’d walked.
Boris Popov, the main boss of my sem’ya — my “family” — didn’t like that one fucking bit. The hit had been a personal errand for him — nothing to do with business, he just didn’t like the guy. I knew what me walking away from it and letting that man and his family escape into hiding meant, and I did it anyways.
Excommunication. Revenge. Death.
Too bad for them, I was gone before the guys sent to kill me could get to me. My job with the Bratva had taken me to the States a number of times anyways, so that’s where I’d gone. Crime pays well with the Russian mob, and I’d saved up a fucking fortune before I’d left. Here in the states, I’d set up dummy corporations, and assumed a new identity, and had this place built, way the fuck out here in the woods up on Blackthorn Mountain.
Two years later, there’d been no sign of Boris. The other men on this mountain had their own reasons to avoid society, and I’d never had reason to worry about them leaking anything about me being here.
But she was something new. A variable. Something I’d never seen coming.
I didn’t know what had started the fire down in the valley, but when I’d gone down to investigate and heard the screams of children, I’d lunged into action. Fuck keeping in hiding. I wasn’t going to let innocents get hurt. I wasn’t that man anymore.
But when I’d run into the flames, it’d been her I saw. Her, the girl lying knocked out in my bed wearing practically nothing. I’d watched her tossing those kids over the burning logs to help, heedless of herself. I’d watched the trees exploding in fire, and I’d watched her stagger to the ground, with no hope of getting out alive.
Everything inside had told me to leave it — that as fucked up as it was for her to die, that saving her would only expose me to risk. But I ran towards her before I could even try and stop myself. I’d crashed through the fire, my eyes locked on the angel on the ground until I’d scooped her up. Bringing her here was the only option, and so here we were.
Me, the killer on the run, and her, the fucking angel in my bed.
My eyes dragged over her, and my cock throbbed as I took her in. Fuck, she was gorgeous. That long dark hair half draped across her face, her pouty lips so fucking inviting and tempting, and the fact that she was basically naked made my balls tingle.
She was so fucking tantalizing lying there under my gaze — most of her long lean legs bared to me, her soft, full tits half spilling out of that plain white bra, her legs slightly spread, and just a glimpse of her little white cotton panties pulled tight across her pussy beneath the tatters of her yoga pants. My cock lurched in my pants, and I growled as I reached down to wrap my hand around it.
Fuck, it would be so easy — so easy to just push those thighs apart, tear those little panties away, and slide my cock between her soft pussy lips. I bet feeling that tight, slick little cunt stretch around my swollen cock would feel like heaven after the years I’d gone without. My body tensed, my pulse roaring and my cock aching for release. It’d been way too long since I’d had a woman. Years. He’ll, it’d been years since I’d seen a woman.
I growled as I squeezed my cock through my pants. It’d be so easy, but then, I wasn’t that man. Fuck, I’d never been that man, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to start now.
But shit did I want her. Badly. There was something so fucking innocent about her that made my cock pulse rock hard between my muscled thighs. There was something so sweet about her that I’d almost forgot about — a pureness I’d forgotten existed in the world.
My hand reached out for her, my jaw clenching tight, my fingers stopping just shy of running over her skin and touching that sweet little body.
Nyet. No, not like that.
I’d rescued her, and I’d brought her here to my lodge. But no one could know I was there. If, when I sent her on her way, she made mention of “the Russian guy with the tattoos up Blackthorn Mountain,” word would get out, and word would get to Boris.
…I couldn’t have that.
I’d patch her up and treat her injuries. But after that, she’d stay. After that, she’d never leave. After that, she’d be mine.
And then, I’d have all of her, and claim her as mine.
My cock throbbed as I looked down at my gorgeous, sleeping prisoner. My tantalizing, tempting captive.
My angel.
Chapter 3
Chloe
My eyes shot open, and I blinked.
What happened?
Above me, sunlight gleamed through a glass skylight set into the huge wooden rafters of the ceiling. I blinked again, feeling a pounding in my head and a not-so-pleasant heat tingling on my skin. I tried to sit up, but I winced at the shooting pain in my left arm, glancing down to see it was wrapped in bandages. I groaned, sinking my head back onto pillows,
Where the hell was I?
“You’ll feel better if you stop trying to move.”
I gasped, my head whirling to the side despite the throbbing pain, and my eyes going wide.
He was sitting in a big chair across the large, rustic but elegant room. Him. In a flash, I remembered the last moments before I’d blacked out — this man, running towards me through the flames and throwing me over his shoulder, and I shivered.
The man was gorgeous — haunting, piercing blue eyes, dark hair, and a chiseled jaw covered in dark scruff. I swallowed, realizing he was shirtless — his grooved, defined muscles covered in gorgeous tattoos. I blinked, my gaze dropping and realizing he was pushing a needle and thread through a wound on his arm.
“Where…” My voice broke, my throat hoarse and dry. The man studied me for a second before he brought his arm up, ripped the thread off with his teeth, and stood. He moved towards me, and I gasped at the fiercenes
s in his eyes, pushing away from him until my back hit the headboard of the huge bed.
“Drink.”
There was an accent to his deep, haunting, baritone voice — something eastern European, Russian or something. His eyes burned hotly into me as he handed me a glass of what looked like water from the bedside table.
I narrowed my eyes at it and then him suspiciously.
“If I wanted to do that, do you think I’d wait until you woke up to drug you?”
I swallowed, blushing at his words like he’d read my mind. I chewed on my lip, and I started to reach for the water when I was suddenly very aware that the only thing I had on was a pair of panties.
“Why the hell am I naked!?”
He looked at me with almost an amused look on his face. “Because your clothes were on fire. I’ll be sure to let you burn next time. And you’re not naked.” A small, hungry smile crept across his jaw. “I left your panties on.”
I blushed fiercely, the fact sinking in that he’d been the one to take my clothes off and see me in nothing but my underwear burning through me.
“You took my clothes off.”
He raised a brow, like he was amused that I was so flustered by this.
“Not all of them,” he purred, turning and moving towards the door. “Yet.”
The last word hit me in a sizzling little tease through my body as he tossed it over his bare shoulder, stepping from the room.
I shook my head, studying and then taking a big gulp of the water he’d given me. Something sparked inside of me at the way he’d said it, like this little teasing promise that burned something fierce inside of me.
I scowled at myself. What was I, blushing at the way this complete stranger who’d taken my clothes off was half flirting with me? Was I that starved for male attention?
Slowly, I stood, gathering up the comforter off the big bed and wrapping it around myself.
“Can I have my clothes back?” I yelled out the bedroom door.
“Nope.”
I shivered, hugging the comforter tighter and shuffling towards the door. I gasped as I stepped through it, taken aback at how big the place was. I was in some sort of huge, cathedral-ceilinged lodge — bit wooden beams stretching across the ceiling joists, a huge stone fireplace, and enormous windows taking up one whole wall that looked out over the ridge-line of the mountains. The place was breathtaking, like something out of an Eddie Bauer or LL Bean photoshoot.
My insanely good-looking rescuer was sitting leaning against a big wooden dining room table, grimacing as he wrapped a bandage around the wound he’d been sewing up when I woke. Suddenly, I felt like an asshole for waking and just accusing him of things, without even thanking him for having saved my life.
I blushed, looking at the floor.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For, you know, for saving me back there.”
I looked up to see him looking at me with this burning intensity, his eyes flashing fire as they locked onto me. The heat in his beautiful blue eyes crossed the divide between us, and it felt as though he was looking right through the comforter wrapped around me. I shivered, a very inappropriate spark teasing it’s way through my body.
“You’re welcome,” he growled in that same accented voice.
“Can I please have my clothes back now?”
He grinned as he shook his head, his gorgeous eyes locked right on me.
My brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“No, you can’t. Because they literally burned off of you.”
I pursed my lips. “Okay, well can I have something to wear? I can’t exactly walk out of here in just a bed-sheet—”
“You’re not walking out of here.”
I froze, my eyes snapping to his.
“Excuse me?”
The man sighed, his muscles rippling as he stepped away from the counter, moving towards me. I swallowed, backing away until my back hit the wall behind me.
“I said you’re not walking out of here, beautiful,” he growled, slinking towards me like some sort of jungle cat. “I brought you here because you would have died otherwise, but...” He slowly shook his head. “I can’t allow you to leave here.”
My jaw dropped as I started at him. “You can’t just keep me here!”
“Watch me.”
He grinned at me again, sending a flicker of wicked heat through my body as I hugged the comforter closer.
“I’ll scream,” I hissed.
“Be my guest. No one’s going to hear you.”
He shrugged, still grinning at me as he turned and started to head back to the table. My eyes darted around the room wildly, landing on the iron fire poker laying against the big stone fireplace. I lunged, my bare feet slipping on the wide-board wooden floor as I scrambled for the weapon. I turned, letting out some sort of battle cry as I brandished it at him.
“Alright, asshole, I’m—”
I gasped as a corner of the comforter caught on something behind me and slipped from my body as I lunged for my captor. He whirled, his eyes suddenly going from furious to downright hungry as they dragged over my near-naked body.
I shrieked, forgetting my attack, dropping the fire poker and lunging for my blanket.
But he was faster. I screamed as big, powerful bare arms caught me from behind. He wrapped his muscled arms around me, lifting me easily as I bicycle kicked at the air and tried to squirm out of his grip.
“Let go of me!”
I shrieked again, my heart racing and jumping into my throat as he marched us right back into the big bedroom and tossed me down across the huge bed. I whirled, kicking back away from him as he stood over me, his eyes burning into mine and his muscles rippling.
“What—” I swallowed, panting heavily. “What are you going to do to me?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“I’m going to treat your wounds, if you stop trying to fucking hit me with things,” he growled. “Now take your fucking panties off.”
My eyes went wide, and I stiffened.
“What?”
“Take. Your. Fucking. Panties. Off,” he growled again, over-pronouncing each word like maybe I’d somehow not heard him the first time.
I shook my head back and forth, pushing away from him. “No.”
“Yes,” he muttered, sighing. “You’re bleeding, and I need to take care of that.”
He nodded at my hip, and I glanced down, realizing he was right. A cut across my hip, half hidden behind the waist of my panties that I hadn’t noticed or felt before was starting to bleed.
“So, princess, either take them off, or I’m going to tear them off. Understand?”
The raw, masculine roughness in his voice sent a shiver through me, as horribly inappropriate as I knew the feeling was. But I couldn’t help it. I’d never been around a man like this — one that just oozed masculinity and power. He was like some sort of gorgeous caveman or something — this brusque, rough, captivating stranger.
“Are you a doctor?”
I felt silly saying it the moment it left my lips.
“No.” He said it without even blinking, reaching over to a medical kit on the bedside table and pulling out bandages and a pair of scissors. “But I know what I’m doing. So, pretty please,” he growled, looking at me sarcastically but with this hint of barely contained heat behind it.
“Take those little panties off before I do.” He grinned. “Unless you’d prefer I do it.”
I blushed fiercely, swallowing as I eyed him heatedly. Suddenly, I made a break for it, lunging from the bed and darting for the door. But he was fast, jumping back and blocking my path. I veered, darting into the corner of the room and whirling towards him with the lamp from the side table brandished in my hand.
“Don’t you come near me,” I hissed.
The man grinned, not even making an attempt to stop as he slowly moved towards me. “Trust me, beautiful. Nothing will stop me from coming for you.”
Chapter 4
I liked the sass, and the way s
he fought back. I liked a woman who could fight — one with fire in her veins. And this one was one that burned fiercely.
I growled, watching her try and threaten me with a damn lamp shade. Truth be told, I actually looked past that though, at her sweet, tempting, practically naked body, shivering under my gaze. She had one arm wrapped across her cute little tits, but I let my eyes burn into her, like I was tasting every inch of that skin with my gaze.
I looked lower, growling at the way her little white cotton panties hugged the lips of her pussy so fucking exquisitely. My cock lurched in my pants, my balls swelling with cum, and the beast inside of me roaring to break free. I wanted her. I wanted to smash that lamp aside, pin her to the wall, shove those panties to her knees and fuck her until he begged me for more. I wanted to feel her slick little cunt dripping her honey down my balls as she came for me.
Something in me snapped, and I moved with a quickness she never saw coming. She gasped as I lunged for her, knocking the lamp away and letting it smash into the corner of the room before I slammed into her. She screamed as I pinned her little body to the wall, my hands slamming her wrists back. She writhed against me, trying to push me away with her body but really only making my cock all the harder for her.
She twisted, trying to get her knee up between my legs, but I shoved her back, slamming her into the wall with my body as we both winced from our wounds.
“Enough!” I growled fiercely. She slashed out, making me hiss as one of her nails slashed along my neck.
Goddamnit.
She shrieked as I snatched her up, my strong arms wrapped around her thighs so she couldn’t fucking kick me. I ignored her fists raining down on my back as I turned, strode for the bed and then tossed her across it again.
“Enough!” I bellowed again, making her gasp and go still. I glared down art her, matching her wild look with my own fierce one.
“I am trying to help you, princess,” I growled.
“Oh really?” she snapped. “You just told me I was your prisoner.”