Kidnapped by the Fae: Paranormal Dark Fae Romance (Fae's Claim Book 5)

by Laxmi Hariharan

  I shoulder open the door.

  She huffs. "You could have let me get that." I step through. She follows on my heels. The interior is dim… A faint light trickles in through one of the windows. I spot a settee, stagger toward it. She grabs my arm.

  "What?"

  She jerks her chin toward another door.

  "Not going in there. I definitely don’t want to share a bed with you."

  "You’re full of yourself, Neanderthal."

  I wince. "Keep your tone down."

  "I was speaking at a normal conversational level, but clearly you are worse off than you think, considering— Hawke!"

  I sway, grip her shoulder to stop myself from face planting. Her shoulders are skinny; the warmth of her skin infuses my fingers. I glance sideways. "The fuck are you wearing?"

  She frowns. "The hell do you mean?"

  "Where’s your shirt?"

  "I took it off, asshole."

  "The hell did you do that? Anyone else could have seen you in that little itty-bitty thing you call a bra—"

  "It’s a sports bra, you obnoxious jackass, and I had to take off my shirt so I could wet it in the stream and pour the water on your unconscious mug… You… You dickhead."

  My cock instantly nods a response. Fuck. I stagger away from her.

  "The bed is the other way, you oaf."

  "Yeah." I lurch the opposite way, point myself in the direction of the bedroom... Reach the doorway, grab the doorframe, use it to propel me forward.

  I stumble toward the bed. The fuck is it, a water mattress? Why is it heaving? Why is it rising up to meet me?

  17

  Charley

  The big guy had collapsed on the bed and blacked out. Small mercies. At least he had made it here before the storm broke. Who owns this place anyway? And speaking of, where were we? I’ll have to ask Hawke when he wakes up. His wound isn’t healing at the speed I’d have expected. From everything I’ve heard, Fae’s self-heal pretty quickly. Perhaps the bullets did more damage than I’d thought.

  I’d had to pull them out…of course. Good thing I’m not squeamish at the sight of blood.

  I'd managed to sterilize the knife I’d found by holding it over the flame in the kitchen. The gas range had worked—thank God—and then I’d managed to dig out the bullet. I'd poured on the antiseptic I’d found, and then stitched the wound closed.

  All courtesy of the fully stocked first-aid kit I'd found in the kitchen, complete with surgical sutures and equipment to perform emergency procedures such as what I’d completed. Almost as if this place had been stocked by someone in anticipation of exactly this scenario. So maybe the Fae own this place… Ah! I lean into the chair I’d pulled up to the bed. Of course, they have these properties in different countries. Convenient, huh? Theyare a self-contained race, able to fend for themselves, closed off against enemies. The Fae Corps looks out for each other… When they aren’t punching each other to bits in the stupid weekly Dares. I snort.

  Bloodthirsty race that they are... Apparently, the practice had been instituted to allow the Fae to let off steam, both for those participating, as well as for the audience who could indulge their blood lust. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they get off on pain. Come to think of it, do I know better? There is this dark edge that is characteristic of the Fae males… None more so than among the Fae Corps men… Especially Hawke.

  He hasn’t stopped glowering since the second I set eyes on him. It’s as if he’d sensed the attraction between us and decided he was going to deny it.

  He’s done a bloody good job of it too, so far.

  He stirs on the bed. Does he know that I am thinking about him? Does he realize how much I want him? One look at him, and I’d known he is it for me. Fuck the age gap. After everything I’ve been through… I feel way older than my years. Boys my age… They have no idea how to satisfy my urges.

  Neither does Hawke, actually.

  And that is my fault.

  I have been too busy chasing and he has been too occupied with evading me, shoving me away from him, ensuring there are enough barriers between us. My leaving with Rafael had been a last-ditch effort to capture his attention. It had worked…but not in the way that I’d hoped it would.

  I mean, he’d come after me, but that prickly exterior has hardened into an unsurmountable wall.

  He flings his hands to his sides, clutching the mattress. Sweat trickles down his chest to soak into the bedspread below. After I’d bandaged him, he’d slept fitfully, then turned over on his back. It hadn’t seemed to hurt him, so I’d left him in that position. Until the restlessness had caught up.

  I dip the cloth into the basin on the side table, wipe his forehead. He’s hot to the touch, dammit. Do Fae run fevers? Is it an infection from the wound? I wring my fingers together in front me. What do I do?

  He mumbles something under his breath, then thrashes around. His pants slip lower, revealing the hair that runs down the center of his concave stomach to disappear inside his waistband. I swallow. Look away, look away. I take in how the fabric tents at his crotch.

  He can’t be. Can he? I mean he’s hurt so… It’s not possible that he’s aroused, is it? Do I dare...? I glance at his face. His eyes are closed. Okay. He’ll never know. I place my knee on the bed, lean over, cup the bulge.

  A groan rips from him. I jerk around. His eyelids are closed. He bites down on his lower lip. His chest seems to expand. He mutters again. I squeeze the turgid muscle through his pants and his chest heaves. His shaft strains against his pants, fills my palm. He’s definitely more erect than earlier. My mouth waters and liquid heat saturates my core.

  I glance at his face. Sweat beads his forehead; his jaw tics. His eyeballs move restlessly behind his closed eyelids. What if he wakes up? What if he realizes what I am up to? I mean, I think I am trying to release the tension that grips him. I want to bring him relief so he can relax. Clearly, the stress has been building up in his body, which is why he’s unable to sleep, and I’m—overthinking this. Would any man refuse a woman palming his dick…? I chew on my lower lip.

  This isn’t any man. This is Hawke. The meanest alpha Fae I know. The one who’s turned away from me, denied me, refused to acknowledge whatever it is that stretches between us. All the more reason to take advantage of this time when he is not aware of what I am up to. If…

  When he finds out, though? I gulp. He’ll be pissed at me. It would be like Hawke to make a scene. Likely, he’d punish me. I squeeze my thighs together… Damn it, why does the thought of him taking his palm to my behind seem so… So welcome. I chuckle. Not that that’s the kind of punishment he’d have in mind. More likely, he’d ignore me completely, banish me from his sight. Most definitely, he’d take me back to the Fae Complex in Singapore, pack me off to my family, and ensure that I never see him again.

  I stiffen. Nope, I’m not going to let that happen.

  I am going to ensure that when he wakes up, he doesn’t have a say in the situation. He is still burnt out…or whatever it is that Fae call it when their telekinetic mojo runs out. I’ve heard it talked about among the Fae Corps—how on the rare occasion when they’ve pushed their bodies too hard, they’ll have a flame-out of sorts. Their systems would shut down completely and it could take hours…days to recharge. I wring my fingers.

  Hawke had pushed himself too hard; he’d also been wounded and bleeding when we’d teleported. No way, is he going to recover from that trauma in hours. Surely, I’ll have a few days, right?

  I have to make the most of that time. I can’t give up this opportunity. If this is how I am going to have him, then so be it. Even if he does regain his full strength in hours… Well, that is better than nothing. The deed will have been done by then. Like it or not, there would be no going back.

  He mumbles again, turns his head to the side; his chest heaves. The skin at the edges of his lips stretches white. I am taking advantage of him. Alphahole, he may be…but what I am doing is wrong. I am not giving him a choice
in the matter…

  I chew on my lower lip. It is his fault, really. If he had faced whatever was between us; if he had taken the time to discuss it with me, then we could have reached some kind of agreement… One proposed by him, no doubt. I scoff. I’d never have had a say in it. I’d have had to comply with his suggestions. The outcome there, as well, would have not been in my favor. And that… That is unacceptable. I am going to have him, my way. And if there is a price to pay for it? Too bad.

  I straighten my spine. I’ll cross that bridge when I came to it. For now, though... I shove off the bed, walk toward the small utility room off the kitchen that I had spotted earlier. I search the space until I find what I want. There.

  Turning, I half run back to the bedroom. When I glance inside, I heave a sigh of relief. He’s still sleeping. Walking to the bed, I lean over him.

  "Will you understand why I had to do this, Hawke?"

  18

  Hawke

  Heat sears my skin. A throbbing ache radiates out from my groin. My balls harden and my dick lengthens. Sensations ladder up my spine. I arch my back, thrust my pelvis upward. Pain sweeps up my side. Shit, I'd forgotten about my wound.

  Sweat beads my forehead.

  I suck down air, then push my cock into that wet suction that draws at me, pulls on my length. Blood thuds at my temples, at my wrists, empties into my balls. A yearning emptiness gnaws at the base of my spine. More. I need more. I widen my legs, lean in further. Something wet slurps up my shaft. A groan rumbles up my chest. The tips of my ears tingle. Fuck. Whatever… Whoever is licking my cock…clearly has no idea how to go about it. Hmm. My partners… When I choose them, are of the experienced variety. And I’d never let them give me a blow job…with me on my back… Hell, no. I’d fuck their mouth, ensure every millimeter of my turgid flesh was shoved down their throat, and more, that they enjoyed every second of it. Which begs the question... Who the fuck is it that wraps her mouth around the head of my rigid shaft, and sucks on it so delicately?

  "I’m not a fucking lollipop."

  My voice infiltrates the noise in my head. I snap my eyes open, glance down. "No fucking way."

  She peers up at me from under her eyelashes. Opens her mouth wider, and takes me in. The sight of my dick disappearing between those pink fleshy lips. Fuck. Goosebumps pop on my skin.

  "The fuck you doing, Char—" She swirls her tongue around the head of my shaft and I huff.

  She grips the base of my dick, squeezes, and my eyes roll back in my head. My groin hardens; my balls throb as the blood swells my veins. I’ve had many blowjobs…but this… This is Char. My Char. The woman who, until a few months ago, was a teen. The one I’d sworn to protect at all costs, keep hidden from monsters, and that includes, and especially refers to, the one inside of me. The darker part of me that revels in how she sucks on my cock, how she wraps her palm around my shaft—the proportions so massive that her fingers barely meet around the girth. My pelvis jerks forward, as if of its own accord, and she gags. Saliva oozes from her lips, drops down onto the pants I have on… She hadn’t managed to get me out of those. Small mercies.

  She tilts her head, takes me in until my cock bumps the back of her throat. Her gag reflex kicks in, she coughs, and I feel the suction of her mouth all the way down to my toes. My dick begins to extend and I pull back. She grips the base of my cock, holds me in place. Continues to lick me, gags once more.

  "Stop it, Charley, right this second."

  She pauses, rolls her tongue up the underside of my shaft.

  I glare at her, and she pales, then pulls back until my dick plops out.

  "What are you going to do about it, hmm?" She raises an eyebrow and I scowl.

  "Don’t contradict me."

  "Or?"

  "I’ll show you—" I reach for her, but my movement is restricted. The fuck? I glance to the side, "No."

  "Yes." She twists her lips.

  "You fucking tied me up?"

  She huffs, "About time you realized it."

  I tug at my restraints. The ropes allow me enough movement to stop my muscles from cramping; bloody fucking hell, I’m definitely bound to the headboard.

  I yank at my legs, then swear aloud. "You tied me spread-eagled?" The growl rips from me and she winces.

  Something hot stabs at my chest. I don’t want her to be afraid of me…but this...? This is too much. I flex my muscles, firm my thighs and strain. The entire bed creaks, the rope gives…an inch, but holds.

  The breath whooshes out of her.

  I drop into myself and come up empty. Of course. I’d exhausted the last of my reserves in teleporting us here, so I have no access to my telekinetic energies. For now. I draw in a breath, force my muscles to relax—relax my shoulders, my chest, my thighs. I allow my weight to drag me down into the mattress, unclench my jaw. A beat, another. I train my gaze on her. "You do know my reserves will stock up soon...”

  "I guess." She sits back on her knees

  "And then these bindings won’t hold me, hmm?"

  She flips her hair over one shoulder. The movements draws attention to her perky breasts, which are bare. She’d divested herself of her clothes, apparently. I glare at her nipples, which tighten to pointed nubs. My mouth waters; my scalp tingles. I bare my teeth, snap my jaw, and she rears back. "You …you don’t scare me."

  "Oh?" I continue my perusal down her concave stomach, tiny waist—so small I could span it with my palms—and that sweet triangle between her legs. The top of her slit peeks up from between pale blonde hair. "So that’s what you are hiding?"

  "What?"

  "You a strawberry blonde, Char?"

  "Of course, not. It’s only… ah." She looks down at herself, then back at me. Her cheeks flush, "Down there, the color’s lighter."

  How would it be to taste her? To swipe my tongue from her tight asshole to the stiff little nub, then nibble on her pussy lips, lick off her cum, swallow down every drop of juice that beads her gorgeous slit, hmm? I can’t stop the purr that rumbles from me, and her entire body shudders.

  "You have any idea what you’re getting into here, hmm?"

  "Of course, not." She chuckles but the sound is high pitched. "Stop that."

  "What?" I continue to glare at her core—that tiny, beautiful, crux of my fascination, that part of her which entices me, which is so near… Yet so not where I should be.

  She chafes her thighs and I can’t stop the smirk that curls my lips.

  "You can’t control your body’s responses to my proximity. How do you think you’re going to orchestrate the proceedings, hmm?"

  She tips up her chin. "What do you think?"

  "You going to seduce me?"

  "Do you want me to?"

  "I want you to untie me."

  "So you can jump on me and rage and throw a tantrum?"

  "I won’t, I promise." I try to raise my hand, meet more resistance. Cant’ stop the growl that crowds my throat.

  She snorts. "See? You’re already getting angry."

  "What I am is hungry."

  "So am I." Her gaze drops to my crotch. She licks her lips and my dick instantly stands to attention.

  The fuck is this about? When had I exchanged places, in becoming the man who allows his woman to take the lead in love-making… eh? Hold on! Back up. My woman? Love-making? Tension threads my tendons; my biceps grow solid. Okay… Enough. This entire scene is fucked up. "Stop playing with the grown-ups, little girl."

  "Who you calling ‘little girl’?"

  "Who do you think?"

  "I have far more experience than you give me credit for. I got started early, remember?"

  I frown. "Char, stop putting yourself down."

  "Let's face the facts." She holds her palm face up. "I was abused by my father, as you've probably guessed."

  "I'm going to kill that motherfucker," I growl.

  "Not sexually, of course."

  I peruse her features, "You...stopped him?"

  She swallows, "A bloody miracl
e, I know." She twists her fingers together, "It's amazing the kind of wounds you can inflict with your fingers and teeth."

  My little Char is a survivor. Warmth sears my chest.

  "Of course, I didn't get away unscathed." Her features harden, "Emotionally and psychologically, he scarred me good. He also beat me—" She blinks, then tucks her elbows into her sides, "—a lot. I couldn't escape that."

  The blood pounds at my temples.

  "When I get my hands on the bastard, I am going to quarter him from guts to mouth." I bunch my fists, "I'm gonna string out his innards, smear his blood on my body, and crush his heart into tiny pieces."

  Her eyes gleam and a smile tugs at her lips.

  The fuck? I’d totally expected her to gag or faint at what I’d said. Better still, I’d hoped she’d be disgusted enough to run from me. Instead, her pupils dilate and her breathing hitches. She chafes her thighs together, and in that moment, I know.

  I lower my chin, flick back my ears and fix her with my glare.

  "You’re one blood thirsty little cunt, aren’t you?"

  "Look who's talking." She sniffs. "And you're too late. Jess took care of the motherfucker." She bares her teeth. "But fuck, that was romantic, I admit it." She tosses her head, "You understand me so well, old man."

  I laugh. "Get rid of my ties and I’ll show you how much of a man I am."

  Her lips kick up. "Oh, from where I am, I don’t think I can dispute that. Question is…" She squeezes her fingers around my dick. I am instantly hard. She lowers her other palm, cups my balls.

  All of the blood rushes to my groin. My vision narrows. I draw back my lips to expose my lengthened canines. "Question is…?"

  "Can you take it when I do this?"

  I yank at my strains. She wouldn’t. No way. A blow job is one thing. But if she…she does what I think she’s going to…

  She straddles me. My dick lengthens further. I grit my teeth so hard, that pain sears my face.