by Lily Cahill
"I've always liked it," he said. Then he grinned. "But I like it a lot better with you here."
She blushed. It felt like she'd been doing that a lot today.
"Anyway," he said. "It's almost ready. Mind setting the table while I finish up?"
"Sure."
She found bowls and spoons and plates while he uncorked some wine, then she pulled the bread out and cut it into steaming slices. Soon they were sitting across from each other, eating the mouth-watering meal.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked.
"Okay," she said.
"How the hell do you run so fast? I'm a freaking Navy SEAL and there's no way I could catch you. I didn't even come close."
Annika laughed. "I don't know. It's just something I've always been good at."
"So you didn't, say, train for the Olympics at any point in your life?"
Again, she laughed. "No."
"Were you at least on the track team in high school?"
Annika got quiet. "There was no--I didn't go to school."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"My mom taught me how to read pretty early. After that, I taught myself. At least, I taught myself what I could. We didn't have many books around the house, so a lot of it was on TV. You know, the History Channel, National Geographic, that sort of thing."
Maxwell was staring at her, a frown beginning to crease his lips. She didn't want him pitying her, so she tried to make a joke.
"Don't ask me to do math," she laughed. "They don't exactly have television shows dedicated to algebra."
He didn't laugh. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Annika. But you don't have to gloss over something to make me feel better either. I want to know about who you are. I want to know about your life. Even the hard parts."
"Okay," she said, sipping her wine for courage. "What would you like to know?"
"You mentioned you took care of your family. What did that really mean?"
Annika took a deep breath. "It meant doing all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry for all of them."
"How many?"
"Including my brothers' wives and children? Thirty-seven."
"Jesus, Annika," he growled, his hand balling into a fist.
"It's okay if you don't want to hear this, Max. It really is."
"No," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. It's just ... that's an unbelievable amount of work. It's amazing you survived it, much less found time to educate yourself."
"You get used to it. You come up with systems to make it easier. I tried to turn it into a game. Like, how fast can I fold the T-shirts today? How many beds can I make in fifteen minutes?"
"Did you ever get a break?"
"Sometimes. My father put the boys through a lot of military exercises. Sometimes they'd be gone for days at a time. Those days were my favorite."
"What about your siblings? Your mother? Didn't anyone help you?"
"Everyone had their own jobs to worry about. And my mother, she ... she wasn't around."
"What happened to her?"
"Her love for my father ruined her," Annika said, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice. "I heard stories about her before she was married. She was strong, beautiful. That's why he picked her. She was his third wife."
"Was?"
"She killed herself when I was very young. By then all her spirit had been beaten out of her. I promised myself after she was gone that I would never marry. I promised myself I would keep fighting, no matter what."
"Which is why you can't make me any promises?" he asked.
"Yes," she admitted.
"I don't care about a marriage certificate or rings, Annika. I never will. But I do care about having the chance to prove myself to you. Do you think you can offer me that?"
"Yes," she said. She could offer him at least that.
"Then that's where we'll start," he said, reaching for her hand across the table.
"Okay."
She let him take her hand. It felt nice to feel his warmth. It felt good to share her story with him, too. Though she was pretty sure that after tonight she wouldn't want to talk about it ever again. She wanted to put everything behind her. Him knowing was enough. She would tell him this one time, and then she'd be done with it.
"Did he ever let you leave, Annika?" he asked.
"No. He always left a couple brothers behind on guard duty whenever he left. And the compound has a ten foot electric fence running all the way around it."
"Jesus."
"The property was big, though. There was always room to run. Just nowhere to get out."
"And the scars, Annika?" he asked, looking into her eyes. "Where did they come from?"
"My father. One for every time I tried to escape."
Max nodded once, but didn't speak. She could see his nostrils flaring, could see his chest heaving.
"Max?" she asked. "Are you okay?" She hated seeing him like this, hated the hurt in his eyes, the anger. To her, these were merely the facts that made up her life. She hadn't understood--not really--how it might hurt him to know them.
"I'm sorry, Max," she said. "You didn't need to hear all that."
"Don't you dare apologize. None of it is your fault," he said. Then he stood up. "I just need a minute. I'll be right back."
He stomped out the front door. Annika went to the window, and saw him shift into his bear as he leapt off the front steps. He tore off into the forest, his clothes in a tattered heap behind him.
Annika wasn't about to let him suffer alone. Not because of her.
She left her clothes on the porch then shifted too, chasing after him.
Chapter Eleven
Maxwell
Max had never felt a rage so hot, so burning. He wanted to kill. He wanted to find her father and give him a set of matching scars.
He barreled toward a tree and smashed into it with all his force. There was cracking noise, and it listed to the side.
Maxwell ran toward it again. This time, he hugged it and dug into it with his claws. Then he pulled it out with its roots still attached and threw it across the field.
One day, he would make Annika's father pay for what he'd done to her. There was no question in his mind. He wouldn't be able to live with himself until the deed was done.
But right now, the most important thing was to keep her safe. He would have to deal with her father later. He had to get himself under control.
He tried to calm his breathing, to slow his pounding heart. He wanted to go back inside, but he didn't feel ready. He didn't trust himself yet.
Then he heard a noise and turned. Annika was there. She had followed him into the forest in her bear form.
Dammit.
How long had she been watching? How much had she seen of his little temper tantrum? The last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad for being honest with him.
She padded over to him and nudged his muzzle gently with her nose. He looked into her eyes, begging for forgiveness. He felt like an asshole.
But she didn't seem upset. She merely nipped at him playfully, batted him with her paw. She wanted to play. It made his heart feel a little bit lighter.
He pounced at her, but she moved too fast.
He tried again, but again, she escaped him.
He tried one last time, but she bounded away, and he quickly realized this was what she wanted all along. She took off running, looking behind herself to see if he would follow. He did.
She ran just ahead of him, a blur of white on snow under clear moonlight. Her strides were graceful and strong. She could just as much have been a gazelle as a polar bear.
They ran and ran together. Max was thankful his property was so expansive, and so remote. They weren't likely to run into any humans for miles.
His lungs were burning. Mountain nights got cold and she was going fast--pushing him right to his limit. She'd make an excellent trainer. He should recommend her to the SEALs. They had nothing like her instinct for naviga
tion at punishing speeds. He was running so fast it was almost painful. Almost, but not quite.
It felt good too. As he ran, his temper cooled. The rage cleared from his eyes, and he started to think more clearly. He could and would keep his temper under control around her from now on. She wouldn't be victimized twice--first by her father and then by his anger and resentment toward her father. She deserved at least that.
Finally, when he didn't think he would last much longer, Annika started to loop back. She had an excellent sense of direction and had been guiding them in a circular course around the cabin, not away from it. Soon, Maxwell spotted the warm glow of it in the distance. Moments later, they were stepping up onto the porch in their human forms.
"Thank you," he said. Somehow, she had known exactly what he needed.
"Anytime," she said as she dressed.
"And I'm sorry I got so upset."
"It's--" she hesitated. "It's okay. Thank you for listening."
"Anytime," he said, looking her straight in the eye. He meant it. He wanted to be there for her, to be her refuge, and he would work harder at it in the future.
He leaned down and kissed her softly, grasping her arms to bring her close. She kissed him back, her lips cold from the crisp air.
When she pulled away, she had a familiar look in her eye. It was the same look he'd given her before they'd made love for the first time.
Something suddenly occurred to him. "Today, in the woods, had you ever ... had you ever done that before?" How could she have? She'd been locked up. She'd practically been a slave.
She shook her head and looked away, seeming embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."
"Hey. It's okay," he said, tipping her chin back up until she met his eyes again. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm grateful, Annika. I feel like the luckiest man alive to be the only one who's been with you."
"You do?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he said. "And I'd very much like to be with you again. Would you like that?"
She looked up at him with those wide, icy blues and nodded. "Yes," she breathed. "I'd like that very much."
Max hoisted her into his arms and carried her upstairs. He had a particular idea of what he wanted to do with her tonight.
#
Max set Annika on the lip of the tub.
"Would you like to take a bath with me?" he asked.
"Yes," she said with a soft grin. "That sounds amazing."
She was already turned on, he could see it. Her nipples peaked through the fabric of her bra and her shirt. The sight of it made his already-hard cock twitch.
He turned on the hot water and let it run. He lit candles and placed them on the bathroom counter and in each of the four corners of the tub. He found the bath salts in the cabinet and added those to the slowly rising water. They smelled of lavender and vanilla, and the aroma began steaming through the space in luxurious whorls.
Then he went back to her. He knelt in front of her while he unbuttoned her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders and kissing the skin it revealed. He nestled his bearded chin between her large breasts as he reached around to unhook her bra. Some men enjoyed lingerie, but he preferred skin--and he wanted to see all of hers. Every last inch.
He slipped the bra off and massaged her breasts. He loved the way they felt in his hands: weighty and smooth and perfect. He loved the way they looked too, the way they bounced when he let them free.
He licked her stiff, pink nipples. He tongued around them slowly, languidly, delighting in the taste of her, the feel of her on his tongue. Her head tilted back and she sighed.
Fuck, that was hot.
He sucked her more, running his hands down her back, feeling the brush of her long hair on his fingers. He wanted to linger there, but she still had clothes on and that had to change. He drew away from her breasts and unzipped her jeans, lifting her to stand so he could tug them off with her panties.
When he finally had her naked, he stood and stepped back to take her in. She was gorgeous. Her body was full, round, sumptuous. Every part of her was absolute perfection.
He lifted her into his arms again, and gently set her into the tub. Again, she sighed. Her long, blond hair fanned out around her before sinking and waving in the water. The sight of her like that took his breath away.
"Wait here one second," he said. "I'll be right back."
He went to an electronic panel in the hall and pressed some buttons. Soft music began playing.
As he went back into the bathroom, she looked up and noticed the speakers built in to the walls.
"Mmmm ... that's nice," she said, closing her eyes, savoring the sounds.
He grabbed a few things, then stepped into the tub with her. He'd had it installed for his aunt, but made sure it was both long and deep enough to accommodate him if he ever chose to use it too.
He slid down behind her, so that her back was against his chest. She felt so good against him like that. He wanted to make her feel incredible. He wanted to wipe away her past and replace it with new memories, loving memories.
He reached for a sponge and squeezed body wash into it. Then he rubbed it all over her. He washed her soft stomach, her arms, her neck. He lathered her breasts and let the sponge drop into the water for a moment as he caressed her slippery, soapy nipples.
She moaned with every motion, let her head lean back against his shoulder as he thumbed her slick nipples. His dick pulsed against his stomach, pressed there by her back. The sensation as she sank against him had his head spinning.
He sponged her beautifully thick thighs, lifting her legs to wash her all the way down to her toes. He reached underneath her to caress her bottom, grabbing a few nice handfuls of her plush ass in the process.
Finally, he ditched the sponge for good and dipped back between her thighs. He needed to feel her with his fingers. The wetness he found there had nothing to do with the water. She was slick, ready.
He sank a finger into her folds at the same time as he rubbed her clit with his thumb.
She let out a soft whimper.
He sweet little pussy was so tight he could feel her gripping him. He longed to have his cock buried there. The desire was so strong it nearly took him over.
With his other hand, he went back to her breasts. They were buoyant in the water, her nipples floating above the surface. He wished the human body was built so he could suck her in this position, but that would have to wait. Instead, he caressed her as she climbed, and satisfied his mouth with kisses on her smooth, long neck.
It didn't take long for her sighing to turn into panting. With one final thrust of his finger, she clenched around him and enjoyed what he hoped was only the first orgasm of the night.
As her breathing calmed, he reached for the shampoo and massaged it into her scalp. His fingers slowly stroked her with a firm, even pressure. She sank into his touch, moaning with every manipulation.
"You like that, sugar?" he asked.
"Yes," she breathed. "I love it."
I love you, he wanted to say. But he knew it was too soon. Though the feelings were true, things worked differently for women. He had to give her time. He chuckled thinking he had only met her today.
"What?" she asked.
"It doesn't feel like I met you this afternoon. It feels like I've known you my whole life."
"I know," she said, squeezing his hand.
He kissed the top of her head. "Lean back," he said, nudging her shoulders down into the water.
She obeyed. She slid her bottom down the tub until her knees broke the surface and her head was between his thighs. He tried very hard to think respectful thoughts with her in that position, but it was difficult. The idea of her lips around his cock made him even harder than he was already. But tonight was about making new memories, he reminded himself. It was about making her happy.
He cradled her neck in his hand while he washed the soap from her hair. When he was certain her hair was rinsed clean, he nudged her to bring
her back up. But she didn't move.
Instead, she rolled in the water to face his cock. She slid her hands up his thighs, using them to lift herself higher out of the water.
"Can I ...?" she asked.
"Can you what, sweetness?" He didn't want to make any assumptions where this was concerned. He needed to be very, very clear.
"Can I suck you?" she asked.
His balls tightened in response to her words. He wanted it so bad. His conscience warred with his body. "You don't have to do that, baby," he said, fighting every impulse inside himself. Her mouth looked so sweet, so soft.
"I want to," she said. "I want to taste you like you tasted me."
Fuck.
"Do you want me to do it?" she asked, her pink mouth so close to him now his heart was beating wild in his chest. "Do you want me to suck you?"
"Yes," he panted. Then he lifted himself out of the water and sat on the edge of the tub to make it easier for her.
She smiled. She actually smiled. Then she placed her hands on his thighs again, and slipped her delicate mouth over his cock, and the world disappeared.
Chapter Twelve
Annika
Annika loved the feel of him in her mouth. Even more, she loved how he sounded when her mouth was on him. He was breathing nearly as hard as he'd had her breathing just minutes ago.
She licked his entire length, and a shiver went through her at the memory of how he'd felt inside of her. He'd filled her completely. He'd done more than fill her. She'd had to stretch to accommodate him in the most delicious way.
Her tongue landed on his sensitive head, and she mouthed that part of him, spreading her lips wide to cover him. Then she pulled off and lapped him with her tongue.
He groaned in response.
It made her feel powerful, confident, and very aroused. Her core ached for him to be inside her, but she wanted to pleasure him first. She decided to go further.
She parted her lips again and took more of him into her mouth, opening herself wide for his enormous size. She moved up and down and back again, taking him in and letting him out, sucking and licking and teasing him with her tongue.
She liked being on her knees for him. She liked him being the one who went to his knees for her too. He was incredible--loving and kind and so handsome she found it hard to concentrate in his presence. They hadn't known each other long, but already her feelings for him were strong.