Captured: Claimed Book 3

by M James

  “So he separated you from the only friend who would defend you.”

  Rain nods. “I was going to leave,” she whispers. “I really was. I wasn’t going to be married to someone who was going to treat me like that. But my father had liver cancer, and I had to fly home to him, and Vincent came after me. He promised me the world, promised my mother he’d take care of my father, get him the best treatment. He wrapped her around his finger. He gave me back my ring. And I was trapped. My father was going to die, and I—”

  “Fuck.” I rub a hand over my mouth. It would be almost impressive, what Vincent did, if it wasn’t so fucking horrible. If he hadn’t trapped Rain in the worst way.

  “So even once I found out about the other girls, I couldn’t leave. Because now, if I left, it meant my father lost his treatment. And it was helping. So everything that came after—Vincent bringing me here, the trip to Italy, me being further away from my family and friends, I couldn’t do anything about it. How could I leave him when his money and influence were keeping my father alive? None of what he was doing to me mattered, not the trainer or the meal plans or April reporting on my every move. Not him charming my sister until she hates me now. And everything I do is controlled now. Every bite of food, every move I make, just about every penny I spend unless he gives me permission otherwise.”

  She’s shaking again, her lower lip quivering as she bites down on it even though it’s still healing and bruised. I feel a rush of protectiveness and anger all at once, a desire to hold her close and kill Vincent all in one dizzying rush of emotion. “Shit,” I whisper, my jaw clenched. I do the one thing I know I shouldn’t do more than anything else right now, the one thing I can’t stop myself from doing, the thing that will cross yet another line, destroy yet another boundary.

  I pull her into my arms, wrapping them around her and pressing her against my chest. I feel her stiffen for a moment, and then she sinks against me, her face buried against my shirt, her fingers curling into it as she trembles, still crying, though not as hard as she was before. She smells like some expensive perfume and herbal soap and shampoo. Yet underneath it, she still smells like Rain, like the girl I remember, the girl I love, warm and soft, and I ache like I’ve never ached before.

  She nestles against me, her face against my shoulder, and I know we’re speeding into dangerous territory, veering around sharp turns we can’t possibly navigate. Still, I can’t bring myself to let go of her. I’ve craved her for years, missed her for years, and here she is again in my arms.

  I want her so badly.

  I need her. I remember all too well how good she felt, and she’s always been impossible for me to resist, but after years of missing her, it feels harder than ever.

  And then she turns her head, and her lips brush against my throat.

  21

  Rain

  He smells so good.

  The thought is ridiculous, nonsensical after everything I just said, but this isn’t what I’d expected to happen. Somehow, I broke through Zach’s walls, brought down his barriers, and now I’m in his arms, nestled against his chest, and it feels like coming home.

  I inhale again, and I smell the piney scent of his soap, the spicy smell of his cologne, all of it surrounding me, the warmth of his skin, the heat of his body burning against me through his shirt, and I feel him tense as I turn my head, my lips brushing over his neck. I feel his quick, indrawn breath.

  I shouldn’t do this. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I shouldn’t. I had wondered if Zach felt the same way about me, if he missed me the way I missed him, if he still wanted me all of these years later. It’s undeniable that he does, now that I’m in his arms. I can feel it in every line of his body, his muscles rigid as he doesn’t let me go but holds himself still, as if afraid to move or breathe. I can feel it pulsing through him, years of pent-up desire, and then I pull back an inch, looking up into his face.

  I can’t possibly be desirable right now. My face is red with emotion and streaked with tears, my lashes wet and matted, my eyes swollen, my lip still bruised, and my face still damaged from the fight, but Zach is looking at me as if none of that matters. His gaze sweeps from my eyes down to my mouth, and before I can say another word, before I can breathe or think, he whispers my name, and I feel as if my heart might stop beating then and there.

  “Rain.”

  It sounds like a plea and a prayer all at once, and I tilt my chin up, the room narrowing down to the two of us as I forget that we could get caught, what would happen if we did, all the ways our worlds could come crashing down. I forget all of that in a plea of my own, the one thing I want, the one thing I need more than anything in the world.

  “Kiss me,” I whisper. “Please, Zach. Kiss me like you used to.”

  Zach looks down at me, hesitating for a moment. And then he cups the side of my face in his broad hand, those blue eyes that I love so much fixed on mine.

  “Who am I to tell my girl no?” he whispers, and then his lips come down onto mine.

  It’s both the way I remember and like no other kiss I’ve ever had. His mouth is gentle, careful of the split in my lip even though I couldn’t care less, and for a moment, it’s just that, the gentle brush of lips. And then his arms tighten around me, his mouth coaxing my mine open with a soft movement as his tongue slides against my lower lip gently, begging me to let him inside.

  I do. I can’t help it. My lips part, my tongue tangling with his as I gasp and arch against him, and his hand is firm against the side of my face, his other arm snaking around my waist as he pulls me into his lap. I can feel him, hard and pulsing beneath me, and he groans as he kisses me, his own breath coming in gasps as his fingers slide into my hair and he presses his forehead against mine.

  It’s everything.

  Everything I missed, everything I wanted, and suddenly I don’t want to cry anymore out of grief and fear, but out of sheer happiness, and that alone makes me want to cry even more because I haven’t been happy in so long, haven’t felt happy, and I thought I never would again. I never thought I’d have this, Zach’s face in my hands and his stubble against my palms, his lips on mine and his tongue in my mouth, the heat of his body all around mine, and I moan helplessly, winding myself around him as my hands tangle in his hair, my lips moving against his frantically as we kiss each other like we’ll never stop, until at last Zach pulls back a fraction, both of us panting.

  “Rain…” he murmurs, and I’m suddenly afraid that he’s going to tell me that we have to stop, that we shouldn’t do this. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched with tenderness, with passion, so long since I’ve wanted anyone, and now it’s him, the boy I loved so long ago, come back to me. The idea of him stopping now, of him leaving, is more than I can bear. I put my hands on both sides of his face, pull his mouth down to mine again. I feel him give way, feel the tension in his muscles let go as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me hard against him, his mouth devouring mine as I straddle him on the couch.

  His hands are all over me: in my hair, sliding over my breasts through my thin silky top, down to my waist as he pulls me down into his lap, his hips arching up as he grinds against me, groaning. He’s hard beneath me, throbbing through his jeans, and I feel his rough palms slide up underneath my shirt, over the smooth, flat skin of my stomach.

  “Rain,” he groans again against my mouth. I feel him shudder as he surges forward, spilling me back onto the couch, my head pillowed on one of the embroidered cushions as he grabs my thigh, hooking my leg around his hip as he grinds down against me, his cock hard and hot and throbbing against me. I gasp, arching tightly against him.

  I need this. I need him inside of me, even as the voice in the back of my head screams a warning that someone could walk in at any moment, that we could get caught, that there’s no way to explain this away.

  He pulls back, breathless, his blue eyes dark with helpless need. “Rain, we can’t,” he whispers. “. Everything you just told me—your family, your sister bei
ng here…Vincent would kill us both and then take it out on them. You know that. And fucking Sonya…”

  I go very still at the mention of Sonya, my fists balled in his shirt, looking up at him from underneath his hard, straining body. “Do you love her?” I whisper.

  “Fuck no,” Zach says, his voice a deep growl. “I don’t even fucking want her most of the time.”

  “Then why are you with her?” I stare up at him in confusion.

  “I—” he hesitates. “I know you just spilled your guts to me, Rain, but there are things I can’t tell you right now. I will, eventually. But not now.”

  He sits back then, moving away from me, straightening his clothes as I pull my knees up underneath me, the spell between us broken. “I need you to believe this, if you believe anything. I will do anything I can to protect you. Anything. I promised you that before, and I promise you now.”

  Tears are welling in my eyes, but I bite them back. I want to beg him not to stop, to go upstairs with me, to wipe all of the hurt away with a few blissful moments of pleasure, but I know he’s right. We can’t, not now, maybe not ever.

  But it doesn’t stop the aching, the way I can still feel my lips tingling from his kiss, the phantom weight of him atop me even with him sitting on the other end of the couch.

  The truth is that even if Zach and I were together now, it could never be what it once was. I can never love him innocently again, the way it’s only possible to love when everything is new and bright. Your heart hasn’t been broken yet, and you don’t know how cruel love can be. I had known how dark and difficult the world around us was, but for a brief, shining time, I had believed that it could be Zach and I against it, whatever came. I had known he was battling something inside of himself that I couldn’t reach, that there were things pulling him away from me, but I had also believed that we could overcome them.

  But I’m not sure this can be overcome.

  And we can’t make it worse.

  I stand up quickly, putting some space between us. “I’m going to go upstairs,” I say hurriedly. “I—” I want to thank him for being there for me, for listening, but that feels strange and awkward after what just happened.

  So instead, I flee the room, leaving him sitting there because I don’t know what either of us could possibly say to make this better. I don’t trust myself not to fall back into his arms if either of us falters.

  I need to be alone. I don’t know how long it will be before Vincent and Erin are back, and that adds another layer of guilt to my already complicated feelings. While my sister is out with my fiancé, who can’t be trusted with her or any other woman, alone in the city, I’ve been making out with my high school crush turned bodyguard.

  Even the silence of the bedroom doesn’t help because I know Vincent will be home eventually. I change into a pair of soft pajama pants and a loose tank top, brush my teeth and pile my hair atop my head, hoping that I’ll look anything but sexy when Vincent comes in.

  I’m in bed with all the lights off when he finally comes in, his footsteps in the hall alerting me before he actually walks in, so I can pretend that I’m sleeping.

  “Poppy.” He says my name loudly enough that I know I have to answer. I push myself up, flicking on the bedside light and doing my best to look sleepy as he undoes his tie, tossing it on the chair as he walks towards the bed.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, walking around towards his side and sitting on the edge of it.

  “Um, I’m alright.” I try to keep the anxiety out of my voice, pushing myself up to a sitting position. Vincent asking me how I am is rare these days, but it also means he’s in a good mood, which is far better than the alternative. “I was trying to sleep. Why do you ask?”

  Vincent narrows his eyes. “I ran into Zach when Erin and I came in. He said you weren’t feeling well. That you were sick. Something about a migraine?”

  “Um, yeah.” I scramble to think of what to say. “I had a headache…I mean, I sort of still do, but I think some sleep will help. That’s why I went to bed early.” I realize I’m starting to babble, but I can’t gather my thoughts, and it seems like Vincent is only half-listening, anyway.

  I see his eyes drop to my breasts, my nipples poking through the thin fabric of my tank top, and he starts to unbutton his shirt. He stands up, tossing the button-down onto the chair to join his tie, and reaches for the button of his slacks.

  The nausea that hits me is overwhelming. I know what he wants—we’ve been through this routine a hundred times. It used to be more subtle. But now I know the routine, the way he stops looking at my eyes and starts focusing on my lips, my breasts, the rote undressing that will end with me underneath him or on my knees. Since he’s decided to have a baby with me, it will almost certainly be sex.

  The thought of him on top of me, inside of me, after what I did with Zach just a couple of hours ago, the way Zach made me feel overwhelmingly sick. Nausea boils up inside of me, my stomach turning inside out as I clap my hand over my mouth and gag, starting to vomit while sitting there in bed. I scramble out from under the covers, rushing to the bathroom, and I hear Vincent’s footsteps as he follows me, watching me from the doorway as I kneel and retch over the toilet.

  When I look up, pushing my hair away from my teary face, his lip is curled up in a sneer. “A little early to be pregnant, isn’t it?”

  I wipe at my mouth, and the disgust on his face is evident. “I’m really not feeling good,” I manage weakly, desperately hoping that this will be enough to convince him to leave me alone.

  “Unbelievable. Get in the shower and clean yourself up,” Vincent snaps, turning away from me. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

  I get up, feeling a little wobbly, and turn on the hot water. I linger, hoping that maybe it’ll help somehow—that he’ll fall asleep by the time I go back into the bedroom. I kill as much time as possible, washing my hair again, scrubbing myself until my skin is pink, washing my face. I brush my teeth again after I step out of the shower, braid my hair, and walk softly back into the bedroom, hoping against hope that he’s asleep already.

  To my utter, stark relief, he’s gone. Probably to Dena’s room to fuck her instead, but I don’t care. The knowledge that I won’t have to have sex with him tonight is overwhelmingly relieving, and I sink onto the bed, on the verge of crying.

  I have to figure this out, I know, and soon. Tonight was a reprieve, but I got lucky—it’s probably not one I’ll get again soon. I can’t throw up every time he wants to have sex with me, and “no” is no longer an option.

  And not long from now, I’ll be his wife.

  The date is looming in front of me.

  Just ten days from now.

  Ten days before I’m Vincent’s bride before I’m bound to him forever, in the eyes of God and man.

  I close my eyes and touch my lips, and for a moment, I feel Zach’s mouth again on mine, soft and gentle, coaxing me open for him, caressing me, making me feel loved. Cherished. Desired.

  Everything I had, and everything I lost.

  He loves me still. I know that now.

  ‘No matter what’, he said.

  No matter what.

  He didn’t tell me to call him Chase tonight. My girl, he’d said as he kissed me, and for just a few minutes tonight, he was my Zach again. The boy I used to love—and the man I love now.

  Here, within these four walls.

  I have to find some way to make him mine again.

  Some way for us to both be free.

  Rain’s story will conclude in the final book in the Claimed series, Freed, out in September! Want to discuss what you just read. Join Portia’s Facebook group here with thousands of other readers.

  Do you love Dark Romance? Check out M. James solo Debut Vicious Promise. Buy now here.

  There’s only one choice for this innocent bride. Marry me or die.

  I never wanted a wife.

  But when the Bratva tries to take what was promised to me, it’s time to claim what’s
mine.

  I thought she would be a burden, a nuisance. A wife that I could lock away forever and forget about after our wedding night.

  But Sofia Ferretti turns out to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Sweet, innocent—and virginal.

  Too good for a ruthless killer like me.

  I’m not here to seduce her, I’m here to keep her alive. Safe from everyone in Manhattan who wants her dead.

  The Bratva are coming.

  To take her.

  To kill me.

  But they don’t know how vicious I can be when it comes to keeping my promises.

  ALSO BY M. JAMES

  VICIOUS PROMISE