Sweet Captivity

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Sweet Captivity Page 23

by Julia Sykes


  I could have killed him in that moment. I would have killed him for everything he’d done to the man I loved, but the guards were still armed, and Andrés was still bound and at risk of being shot.

  “Drop your weapons,” I ordered. “Do it, or I’ll kill your boss.”

  The guards slowly lowered their guns to the ground, their eyes fixed on the knife I held to Cristian’s throat. He was still making horrible choking sounds as he struggled to draw in air.

  “Untie Andrés,” I barked the command.

  They hesitated, so I increased the pressure of the knife just enough to make a drop of blood bead on Cristian’s skin.

  They hastened to comply, sealing their fates.

  As soon as Andrés was free, he attacked. He was breathtaking in fluid, violent motion. My dark avenging angel. I watched with detached interest as he snapped their necks. The world was going hazy, surreal, but I kept my hold on Cristian as he continued choking beneath the knife.

  Andrés turned to me as the second guard’s lifeless body hit the floor. He closed the distance between us and went down on one knee so he was eye level with me.

  “Hand me the knife, cosita,” he ordered, his voice oddly smooth and calm.

  My fingers were going numb around the hilt, anyway, so he easily plucked it from my hand.

  His gaze left me to focus on his brother. A vicious snarl twisted his scar deep into his perfect face, and he lashed out. Cristian screamed as the blade sliced through his cheek, deep enough that I caught a flash of teeth and bone. Andrés closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the sound. Then his gaze found Cristian again, piercing him with a wickedly sharp black stare.

  He drew the knife back and slammed it into the center of his brother’s chest. He growled as he twisted the blade. Cristian’s entire body shuddered, then sagged back against me where I was still crouched behind him.

  His dead weight fell on me, and I couldn’t seem to get my hands up to push him away. The room was growing darker, the spare lightbulb dimming.

  Andrés heaved his brother’s body off me, his expression twisted with some emotion I didn’t understand.

  “Sirenita,” he said, strained. “Stay with me.”

  “I came back for you. I’ll never leave you,” I promised, my voice strangely faint. I tried to reach up to touch his face, but my arms wouldn’t work. “I love you.”

  He scooped me up against his chest, and agony lanced through my hip. A strangled cry ripped its way up my throat as he rushed me to the elevator. As it slowly ascended, Andrés started murmuring to me in Spanish in the soothing way I loved so much. I sighed and pressed my face into his chest, the pain receding as I slipped into warm darkness.

  Chapter 26

  One Month Later

  “Seriously, Dex, I’m fine,” I told him for the thousandth time. My webcam specs and internet connection were flash enough that I could see the little furrows in his brow where his face filled my laptop screen. “Are we going to play a game, or what?”

  “Where are you?” he asked. “Come home. Please.”

  I shook my head and lounged back against my headboard, glancing down to make sure Andrés’ shirt wasn’t gaping open. I didn’t want to accidentally flash my best friend. I’d only covered myself with the shirt so I could video chat with him. Otherwise, I wasn’t really allowed clothes these days.

  I didn’t mind at all. I liked being naked here. It was warm and humid on our little private island, far too hot to bother with clothes.

  “I am home,” I told him firmly. “Andrés and I are perfectly happy and settled here.”

  He scowled. “You shouldn’t be with him. He’s a criminal.”

  “Not anymore,” I told him, repeating something I’d said another thousand times. “I’m starting to regret telling you we’re together. I want to share things with you. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. But if you keep interrogating me every time we talk, I can’t keep doing this. You already know you won’t find me. I’ve made sure of that. If I worked so hard to cover my tracks, do you really think I’m just going to tell you if you pester me often enough?”

  He blew out a long sigh. “No, I don’t expect you to tell me. Even though I wish you would. I worry about you.”

  “Don’t,” I insisted. “I’ve never been happier. Really. Now, if we’re not going to play a game, fill me in on what’s going on. Did you get all the dirt I sent you on Cristian Moreno? I want to make sure all his people get rounded up and the people they’ve hurt are saved.” I thought about Lauren, my heart squeezing. Dex had told me they’d recovered her and the other girls from Andrés’ building weeks ago. I hoped she was okay and able to get the help she needed to heal.

  “Yes,” Dex confirmed, his lips still thin with disapproval. “Although there seems to be a key player missing in everything you’ve sent us. You know, the man who was actually running the organization.”

  I waved him off. “Andrés was acting under duress. He’s squeaky clean now. And he’ll never hurt anyone else.”

  Well, he might still whip me occasionally, but that was just for fun. And Dex definitely didn’t need to know about it.

  “Tell Jason I haven’t given up on helping him, either,” I shifted topics. “I’m still trying to track Division 9-C for him. We’ll find them and trace them back to whatever organization they represent.”

  I was in full-on hero mode these days, kicking ass and taking names. From behind the safety of my screen, of course. I was working on ensuring all Cristian’s people were arrested, tracking Division 9-C for Jason, and—although I hadn’t told Andrés—looking for any whispers that Valentina was still alive. I didn’t want to open up old wounds, only to let him down if I found something horrible about his sister’s fate.

  “I’ll tell Jason,” Dex promised. “But I wish you weren’t going all vigilante on me. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know where you are.”

  “That’s not your job,” I told him. “Andrés is here to protect me. Trust me, he’s way scarier than you. He’ll keep me safe.”

  “Always,” he swore, his accented voice rumbling over me. Even after spending nearly every waking moment with him for a month, I still got all shivery and blissed out in his presence. I didn’t think that would ever fade.

  He crossed our bedroom, closing the distance between us. He took a moment to glance at my screen, shooting a warning glare at Dex before he tangled his fingers in my hair and crushed his lips to mine. It was an obvious display of ownership. He still wasn’t entirely happy that I’d maintained contact with Dex, even though I’d managed to convince him I only saw Dex as a friend.

  He deepened the kiss, claiming my mouth in firm, dominant strokes of his tongue against mine. I moaned and brought my hands up to capture his face, pulling him closer.

  Dex cleared his throat pointedly.

  Refusing to break our kiss, Andrés reached out with his free hand and snapped the laptop closed. I giggled against him, giddy at his possessive instincts when it came to me. He loved me fiercely, to the point of obsession.

  I was equally obsessed, so I didn’t mind at all. I couldn’t get enough of him, and I never would.

  His hands fisted in the shirt that covered me, and the buttons popped free with a powerful jerk of his arms. He wore only a towel, his hair still wet from a shower. I tugged the soft fabric from his hips, revealing his hard desire for me.

  His weight settled over me, pinning me down against the massive bed we shared. Andrés had spared no expense in selecting a home for us and furnishing it with all his favorite kinky gear. Other than three members of staff, we lived alone on our private little slice of paradise. No one was around to complain about my screams of tormented ecstasy that floated through the humid air.

  I felt a little guilty at the extravagance, but after looking at Andrés’ financials, I decided we could keep a small piece for ourselves to ensure our safety and comfort. No one would find us here. I’d donated the rest of the money from his drug empire
to various charities, mostly organizations that supported women who’d suffered abuse. Andrés had approved, wanting to do what he could to atone for Cristian’s Bliss trafficking.

  He was so good at his core, so kind and caring. He’d carry guilt for what he’d helped his brother do for the rest of his life, but I’d be here to help purge him of the dark moods that claimed him.

  He wasn’t in a particularly dark mood at the moment, just possessive. Hungry.

  He kissed his way down my neck, between my breasts, pausing to press his lips against the raised pink scar on my hip where the bullet had ripped through me. He’d managed to get his private physician to arrive at his penthouse in time to stop me from bleeding out. One of my ovaries had been damaged, but the doctor said I’d still be able to have children. My birth control shot would be effective for another three months, but I didn’t think Andrés was going to provide me with another one when it wore off.

  I didn’t want him to, anyway. I wanted a child with him. Our lives would be unconventional, but we’d be a family.

  He finished lavishing attention on the mark I’d gotten when I’d saved us, my wet pussy distracting him. He gripped my thighs with harsh hands and pinned them down, spreading me wide for him. My eyes closed on a groan when he licked me, his clever tongue knowing just how to caress and play to drive me wild. My fingers speared into his hair, pulling him closer. He growled against me and nipped at my clit. I shrieked as my pleasure spiked in response.

  “Please, Master,” I panted, loving the feel of his title on my tongue. “Please fuck me.”

  As much as I reveled in his hot mouth on my pussy, it couldn’t compare to the feel of him filling me, marking me.

  He pressed one last kiss on my clit before pulling away. Shifting his grip from my thighs to my hips, he flipped me over onto my front.

  A delighted laugh bubbled up my throat as giddiness soared through me. The strong, assured way he so easily handled my body send bliss pulsing through my veins. When he was in control, I could let go and relax. I didn’t have to worry about being a hero or think about the weight of everyone who was counting on me to save them. I could just be me. I could be vulnerable with him, because I knew in my heart I could trust him to take care of me. I hadn’t withered in his captivity; I’d become stronger than ever. He’d torn me down to my basest self and built me back up again, making me whole for the first time in years.

  He made me whole. And I’d made him whole, in return. He still bore the marks of his brother’s torment, but they didn’t go deeper than his skin anymore. He’d escaped. We’d both escaped. In so many ways, we’d freed each other.

  “I need you,” I moaned as he pulled me up onto my knees, positioning my pussy where he wanted it. “I need you inside me.” I needed to feel him penetrating me deep, for him to complete me.

  He entered me in one hard thrust, stretching me ruthlessly. “Mine,” he snarled, driving into me in harsh, fast strokes. This wasn’t slow seduction, but it was our own particularly dark brand of lovemaking. My pleasure crested as his cockhead dragged across my g-spot, delicious tension coiling low in my belly. His hand fisted in my hair at my nape, pulling my head back sharply so I was forced to arch into him. At the same time, he pinched my clit.

  I screamed and shattered, my inner walls fluttering around him as he roared out his own release. His cum branded me with the heat I loved so much.

  He held me in place as he emptied his seed deep inside me, keeping our bodies locked together as we both rode out the last of our ecstasy.

  When he finally pulled out, he collapsed onto the bed and draped me over his chest so he could cuddle me and pet me. He needed to touch me as badly as I needed to be touched.

  We lay there for several minutes, catching our breath while our fingers explored the lines of each other’s bodies. After a while, I trailed my hand down his abs, making my way to his cock. It jerked beneath my soft touch, his desire for me rising to meet my own craving for him.

  He sat up, propping his back against the pillows as I straddled his hips and guided him inside me once again. He hissed out a long breath as I slowly lowered myself onto him.

  “Te amo, mí sirenita,” he said on a rough whisper. “Te amo.”

  “I love you, my Master. My Andrés.”

  I leaned into him and captured his lips, claiming him as he’d claimed me. Andrés was mine, and I would never let him go.

  The End

  Want more of Jason and Natalie’s dark romance? Dark Lessons is now available!

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  Dark Lessons Excerpt

  I smiled when I stepped into the seedy dive bar. It was definitely my kind of place, and this would be my last night to let loose for a while. I would start training for my dream job at Quantico tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be able to party. I didn’t really drink much, but it would be nice to have a night to celebrate my accomplishments.

  I’d checked into a motel near Quantico for the night, and The Community Tap had beckoned from across the street. The bar might be a bit sketchy, but I wasn’t at all nervous entering by myself. I’d been taking mixed martial arts classes for two years, ever since I’d started my Master’s degree in Psychology. I’d known I was preparing to apply for a job with the FBI, and I wanted to be physically equipped as well as mentally sharp. I was determined to graduate the academy and join the Bureau.

  As I crossed the threshold, I registered several male gazes swinging my way. I ignored them and headed for the bar. I wasn’t here to hook up. I just wanted a beer and a little atmosphere. I’d intentionally selected a conservative sweater with jeans, and I’d applied minimal makeup. I definitely wasn’t dressed to impress, but I knew men found me attractive. It wasn’t a vain thing; I was physically fit from training, and years of male attention let me know I was pretty enough. I could find some company for the night if I wanted to, but that wasn’t part of the plan. I didn’t do casual fucks, anyway.

  “What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bald, bulky bartender smiled at me.

  I didn’t care for the casual endearment, but I brushed it off. “What craft beers do you have on draft?” I asked.

  He handed me a list, and I quickly made my selection. A good IPA would hit the spot.

  Taking my beer with a smile and a tip, I turned to face the rest of the bar. I grinned when I saw people—mostly men—signing up for a darts tournament.

  I was so down for this. I had excellent aim, and it would be fun to compete with the heavily muscled, macho men who were putting their names on the chalkboard and paying the entry fee. Men like that often underestimated me, and I liked proving my worth. It would be a good confidence boost before facing the fierce competition at Quantico.

  I crossed the room to the sign up area and confidently wrote my name on the chalkboard, handing the bouncer the five dollars required to compete. He informed me that the tournament would start in fifteen minutes, so I decided I would people watch for a little while and size up my competition.

  As I settled back in at the bar, a cluster of hard-faced men in leather jackets caught me looking in their direction. The tallest, biggest one leered and winked at me. Keeping my expression impassive and disinterested, I broke from his gaze. I didn’t want to imply any sort of physical invitation.

  “You any good?” A deep, masculine voice rumbled through me. I jolted and turned to face the man who had approached me soundlessly. Even though the bar was fairly noisy, it wasn’t often that someone was able to encroach on my personal space without my realizing it.

  As soon as his stunning green eyes locked on mine, I became very aware of his nearness. My breath caught in my throat, and my body reacted with instant attraction, the pull toward the stranger more visceral and immediate than anything I’d ever experienced. He was easily
the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

  No. Beautiful wasn’t the right word. He was far too ruggedly masculine for that term. With a strong, clean-shaven jaw and high cheekbones, he could have been a male model. His glossy black hair was meticulously styled, and his sharp black suit managed to convey an air of elegant power. The teasing tilt to his full lips was cocky and sexy as hell.

  “What?” I managed to release the air that had been trapped in my chest. I couldn’t remember what he’d just said to me. His nearness scrambled my brain and heated my insides. The sensation was utterly foreign and darkly delicious.

  “I saw you entered the tournament.” He gestured at the chalkboard, but his sparkling emerald eyes didn’t leave mine. “Are you any good?”

  I straightened my shoulders, struggling to collect myself. It wasn’t at all like me to fumble like this over an attractive man.

  “Yeah,” I asserted with most of my usual confidence.

  One corner of his lips ticked up farther, and my gaze riveted on his mouth.

  “I’ll enjoy the competition, then,” he said, his voice lilting with amusement. “I’m Jason.” He extended his hand.

  I shook it firmly, finally collecting myself. “Natalie,” I introduced.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Natalie.” His voice caressed my name, and I suppressed a shiver. Lust had never hit me so hard. The air seemed to crackle between us, and the way his eyes darkened with hunger as he held my hand told me that I wasn’t the only one who felt it. He squeezed gently, and my sex contracted in response.

  Slightly disconcerted, I extricated myself from his grip. He smirked. It should have irritated me, but his arrogant confidence was undeniably stoking my lust.

 

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