Stolen & Fractured

by Cee Smith

  “You have no fucking idea what you just started, but I’m going to finish it. No mercy.”

  “No mercy.” My words came out honey-dripping slow, and I watched him back away from the wall, granting me the first up-close view of the muscles that I dreamed about at night. The ones I awoke to every morning.

  His mouth warped into a lascivious quirking of his lips and he pulled his sweats down, showing me the reason for such a smug smile. He watched me as he stepped out of the pants and stood before me completely naked. And there you have it, folks, he’s not a boxers or briefs guy; he’s commando all the way. Like the rest of his body, he was long and thick—an impressive hunk of meat that looked just as intimidating in its size. My eyes drew back up the length of his body, taking in every curve and line clear up to an impressive scar that ran from atop his shoulder down one side of his chest. The depth of the scar made me shiver. I could only imagine the type of blade that could do such damage with a cut that looked like it should have ended his life.

  Scout made an after-you motion of his hand and I stepped away from the wall, following suit. I pulled my pajama pants down leaving me in nothing but my tee shirt and panties. The shirt came off next and the cool night air that seemed to find its way inside his house—probably the same way I did—brushed my nipples.

  “Stop.” Scout’s hand rose as he took a step closer. “Let me. It’s only right. House rules.”

  “Well, if it’s house rules, how can I argue?”

  He dropped to his knees before me, his hands rubbing from my knees up to my hips and back again. His palms gripped my ass, before returning to my hips. He pulled me closer to him, holding me as I wobbled closer. My mound was pressed right up against his lips and his eyes looked up, enticing me to watch him. And I did. I watched him as he licked my thighs, his tongue teasing as it dipped and danced around my most desperate place. His fingers found their way between my legs and he used them to create space for his tongue to lick up and along the outside of my seam. When he skipped over my pussy again, I groaned out, “Tease.”

  “Well I have been known to torture a time or two.”

  I couldn’t tell whether he was joking or being serious, but the thought evaporated the moment I felt his hands wrap around the edges of my underwear, kissing my legs with the dampness that had settled against the inside of the fabric. I stepped out of my underwear and he held me in place as his tongue settled between my folds. He flayed me open with his fingers, holding me at the perfect angle to torture and tease me until I was quivering overhead.

  His licks were sure and slow, a calm stroke that I teetered against for more. He remained undeterred by my movements and continued exploring my most secret place like some lost city. He took the scenic route with every kiss he placed against my clit, with every breath that fanned across me, with every touch of his fingers as they continued “readjusting” as they held me open.

  “Scout. Please, I need more.” I ground out my need against his mouth, searching for the bite of pressure that would steer me to the finish line.

  “Tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been fucked?”

  “Good? Never.”

  “Then I won’t make you wait another minute.” He thrust his tongue in my cunt and I moaned at the delightful warmth filling my depths.

  He rose up from the floor, gripped my back with one arm and lifted me up in the other. I wrapped my legs around him, hooking my legs at his back as he transported me to the top of the bed. Scout threw me into the middle of the bed, and I bounced once before he was pouncing on me like a stampeding wildebeest.

  His body slid over mine, his lips capturing my lips in a tornado that left me gasping for breath. He slid his tongue inside my mouth the way one samples a taste of something sweet before realizing they’ve just tasted ambrosia. Just when I thought he would let up, his tongue dipped back in my mouth, licking and swirling. His teeth bit into my bottom lip as he sucked me in. My arms rose to meet his shoulders—the crux of my desire lay in the fingers that bruised the muscles there.

  There was no give beneath his solid chest and I rolled my breasts seeking the much-needed friction. The same friction that I was looking for when I dug my heels into his backside, pressing him deeper between my spread thighs. He rolled his hips, slipping his cock through my slickened skin, making every nerve ending prickle with awareness. I wanted him now. I wanted him deeper. I wanted him to fill me to the brim, until I was aching in my chest for more.

  “You’ve got the most amazing body. These lips,” he said as he tasted my mouth. He kissed down my neck and took the bud of my breast into his mouth. “These tits.” He laved my nipple, bathing me in the warmth of his breath and the chill of his tongue. His hand read the braille of my body, feeling my need as his hand rolled my other nipple between his fingers. My nails scratched his back, tallying minutes that his mouth spent lingering around my navel when I really just wanted his dick to score my cervix as he rocked into me.

  “This cunt,” he groaned as his tongue laved the top of my mound.

  “You better fuck me now or—”

  “Or what? You’ll fuck yourself? Mmm. Actually, I don’t think I can fuck you until I see what that looks like.”

  “That’s some fucking favor. What do I get if I do that for you?”

  “Everything.” He breathed his response and I could hear the desperation threaded through that one word, the sound mirrored my own feelings of climbing lust.

  He must have seen my acceptance of his offer as he leaned his body to the side, allowing enough space for my hand to slip down to my pussy.

  “Is this what you want to see?” I asked, as the squelching sound of my fingers beating against my clit sounded through the room.

  “I’ve got an idea. Don’t stop.”

  He climbed over me, his thick member slipping between my legs to reach my cavern. He held my neck, gripping me tight as he claimed my mouth and primed himself to enter me. I continued my ministrations with both of us looking on, watching every figure eight drawn through the valley of my folds with the tips of my fingers. Scout’s crystal blue eyes became two discs of black coals waiting to catch fire.

  With one thrust, Scout speared into me and my breath caught in my throat, my fingers stilled between my legs, my body bucked from the bed, as he pressed in deeper. His nostrils flared and his eyes rolled back while he stilled. We both took a moment to absorb the connection of our most intimate parts. It was like losing my virginity all over again as my body took on the size of him.

  We both watched as Scout slid back out of me, every inch accounted for as he slipped from my depths. With slow measured thrusts he worked his way back in until he was pressed in tight to the hilt. My fingers took up the same pace, drifting farther down my seam until I was slipping past the place where our bodies met, to his smooth balls clapping against me. His mouth closed over mine, dripping with heat as his tongue lashed mine. He kissed down my neck and lifted my breast to his eager mouth, his hot and voracious tongue lapping at me like I was his last drop of water. I wrapped a leg around his waist, digging my heel in his lower back, clutching him closer.

  “Fuuuuck,” he groaned and I bucked my hips, fucking him with renewed enthusiasm.

  “I need more, Scout. Please.”

  “You asked for it.”

  I hooked the fingers that had just been sliding between my folds, into Scout’s parted lips. He closed his mouth around my fingers, his tongue slipping between the seam of my fingers with a force that made my legs tighten around him.

  “Mmm, you keep doing that and this will all be over before we really get started.”

  His hands cupped my ass, lifting me into his pumping hips. Scout picked up speed, rocking into me with a pace that had me clinging to his shoulders, biting into his pectorals while I sought refuge from the onslaught.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I said around teeth that clung to his skin.

  “Don’t hold back on me, Jessa. I want to hear you.”

  “Don’t
stop. I’m. Right. There.” I rolled my hips forward and Scout’s hands tightened as if he was pulling me back against the bed by the grip he had on my ass. He bit my neck, nibbling up to my ear before I was drowning in the force of his tongue pushing past the seam of my lips. I opened myself up to him, groaning out the pressure I felt building in my limbs—a type of numbing agent that sent tingles to my extremities.

  “Scout?”

  “I’m right there with you, Jessa.”

  I locked both legs around his waist while he shifted his hands to my hips and began bucking into me without restraint. I watched him as he looked like a marathon runner about to cross the finish line. He looked beautiful in the way every line of his body pulled tight, like he would combust with one final pull.

  “Jessa!” He shouted my name and his body tensed further, trembling with release. He continued thrusting, pulling my hips into the force of his punishing thrusts. Scout hit a spot that was like a detonator and I felt the blast in every part of my body—which crumpled beneath the strength of my orgasm.

  “Oh my God.” My lungs were nearly decimated in the blast, but I slowly recovered enough to pant out praises for the miracle that had just happened.

  Scout rolled off of me, and for a brief moment, I thought he was leaving. When he opened the bathroom door, a thick cloud of steam burst into the room and he grinned back at me. I forgot all about the shower that was running when I first came in the room. It seemed Scout did, too.

  He came back to the bed, still naked, with a damp towel in hand. His lips swept across mine in a kiss that was much too short, but when his hand shifted between my legs, wiping up his seed from inside my thighs, I forgot all about my hungry lips.

  “Ready for round two already? I’m impressed.” He smirked as his head was positioned just beside my hip.

  He threw the towel on the side table and crawled back up the bed to rest against the mountain of pillows positioned against the headboard. Scout settled in and with the outstretching of his arms, his body nearly stretched across the entirety of the bed. He pulled me into his side, curling his right arm around me as I cuddled into him.

  “Patrick.”

  “Huh?”

  “Scout is a nickname. If you’re going to be screaming my name, I at least want it to be my real one. It’s Patrick.”

  “Patrick. I like it. You don’t really look like a Patrick though.”

  His hearty laugh had me bouncing against his chest. I laughed with him, not really sure if I was laughing with giddiness of finally having Scout just the way I wanted him or laughing just because he happened to be laughing.

  “You have a beautiful smile. You don’t show it enough.”

  “I smile,” I said in rebuttal.

  “Not enough.”

  “Coming from the man who almost never smiles.”

  “I think I’ve got something to smile about now,” he said as he embedded his hands in my hair, tilting my head back to attack my lips.

  There was so much to be worried about: my sister and her kidnapper husband, the reason why we were really there, what I was going to do when Hailey no longer needed me, and what would happen when Patrick realized I fell for him all those months ago. I had no control of what was happening around me, and for the first time—being there with Scout—I realized that was ok. Everything will work out as it should.

  Once again, thank you readers! I am grateful for every review, FB post, DM, and email with your thoughts on Dominic and Hailey’s story. Thanks to the blogs that supported, posted, or mentioned The Stolen Series!

  It still surprises me how welcoming and supportive this little indie community has been so thank you to all of my author friends that have helped me along the way—you know who you are.

  Neda, thanks for keeping things on track so I could focus on what I really love to do—write.

  Sloppy kisses to my beta readers, who had to muddle through some errors. You guys are the best! Thank you to my editor, Erica—I still cringe when I see your name on my email, but I’m starting to realize that not every email is a “you need to fix-this” email.

  To my family and friends that have been amazingly supportive of this vague-writing-type thingy I’ve been working on. One of these days I’ll actually let you read my work.

  Jennifer, aka “me from an alternate universe,” thank you for often being my cure of indecisiveness, for being the best soundboard, and dealing with my neuroses.

  A very special thanks to my husband for the many car rides that I spent writing instead of driving, for allowing me to adopt the entire couch as my “writing space,” and for making me dinner because I proved too busy. Oh and happy anniversary, E!

  Thank you for reading!

  Sharing is caring, so if you enjoyed this book please write a review. That’s the best way to pay it forward, while also giving me feedback—which I actually do read (good or bad). However, whether or not you recommend it, I just want to express my gratitude for you taking the time to read Stolen & Fractured! I sincerely appreciate it!

  I love connecting with readers!

  Find me here:

  Facebook: CeeSmithAuthor

  Twitter: @ceesmithwrite

  Goodreads: Cee Smith

  Email: ceesmithauthor@gmail.com

  Visit Cee Smith on Amazon for all current and future releases.

  “Honest” by The Neighbourhood

  “Love Hurts” by Incubus

  “Big Jet Plane” by Angus & Julia Stone

  “Elastic Heart” by Sia

  “You Ruin Me” by The Veronicas

  “Dangerous” by Big Data

  “Vengeance” by Zack Hemsey

  “I Bet My Life” by Imagine Dragons

  “Crystalised” by The XX

  “All I wanted” by Paramore

  “Savior” by Rise Against

  “Make This Go On Forever” by Snow Patrol

  “What Kind of Man” by Florence + The Machine

  “My Immortal” by Evanescence

  “Fix You” by Coldplay

  “Walk Away” by Christina Aguilera

  “Vindicated” by Dashboard Confessional

  “Vitamins” by Hemming

  Cee Smith is a lover of the written word. Since first learning how to string a sentence together, she’s been putting pen to paper and hasn’t looked back. Though she’s no longer obsessed with blood and gore, the dark side still calls to her, often finding refuge in her current writings. Her addiction to reading is what finally inspired her to take a chance at publishing.

  A California native, currently residing in North Carolina with her husband. She loves salacious stories, true love and forbidden romances—the more angst the better. Other than reading and writing, some of her other obsessions are peanut butter (don’t get her started), Michael Fassbender, and watching TV.

  She loves talking about the creative process and what books she’s reading, so feel free to shoot her a line. Or if you just want to say hi that’s fine too. She swears she’ll respond.

  Sneak Peek

  --COMING WINTER 2015--

  Shut In

  My legs felt hot bundled beneath the down comforter that seemed a bit too heavy in the Vegas summer. The air conditioner clicked on clanking loudly like ice cubes dropping into an empty glass, making the skin of my sweat-dampened neck stark cold from the breeze.

  I tried working through the dense fog surrounding my thoughts, but I couldn’t think past my parched throat and the way every muscle felt like it’d been stretched beyond its limits. Glimpses of the night before filtered in while I tried swallowing past the saliva that had settled against the back of my throat. I remembered my coworkers, Kerri and Piper, lining up shots as if it were my 21st birthday and they were busting my alcoholic virginity. I guess in a way I was becoming reacquainted with a version of myself long forgotten.

  White noise echoed from somewhere within my house, making my mind feel like soft cheese slipping against a cheese grater—it pulled me from my drunke
n stupor and back to the present. The haziness of my mind forgotten, I stumbled from the bed. Tilting and whirling like a dreidel, I threw out my right arm to brace myself from crashing into the nightstand. Whoa. I drank way too much if I still can’t stand up straight.

  I walked a few steps before I took notice of my lack of pajamas. My black strapless bra and bikini underwear were a blaring contrast against my ivory colored skin, which damn near looked fluorescent in the blackened room. There are my pants, I thought, as I stepped over the bundle of jeans that were half turned inside out lying just inside the bedroom door. I looked around at my feet and still hadn’t noticed my shirt, but I wasn’t too bothered by it.

  The sound from the TV was what pulled me from that room into the living room. It was a long buzzing sound, hypnotic in its attempt to electrify my eardrums. The sound reminded me of a vacuum, and I just wanted to pull the cord from the wall to fall back into my too-warm sheets and thoughts weighted down by one too many shots of tequila. Except when I stood in front of the TV, I could see the Technicolor swirl of rainbow colors and wide bars running across the top and bottom of the screen. It was some kind of emergency broadcast. I looked across the couch hoping to find the remote, but of course it was nowhere to be seen.

  Moving to the front of the couch, I dropped down and started shuffling couch cushions, the tweed of the couch abrading my skin in my rummaging. I finally found the remote and made to turn the channel. It took three or four channel changes to notice that each channel was the same—everyone was broadcasting the same message that seemed to be blurring across the screen.