Nephilim’s Captive: A Divine Giants Romance (Sons of Earth and Heaven Book 1)

by Abby Knox

  “I’m not having this conversation with you out here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Impertinence,” he muttered, ignoring her question.

  Ada tried to blow a lock of hair out of her face, but it was no use; it was matted to her cheek in the humidity.

  They stayed locked to each other in silence for a moment longer.

  She could feel something needy inside him waiting to come out. Kiss him. Own him. Whatever he is, take him. For science. Yes…for science.

  She felt a certain something inside her release in the knowledge he wasn’t going to force her to do anything physically against her will. Anything but force her to stay put under his watch. But knowing he could make her feel these urges, make her want him? It was all too much. She had to get ahold of herself.

  “If I let you up, will you run again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Honesty…and impertinence. I like that.” That sexy, deep voice. Sexier than Thor in a speedo on the beach.

  Ada felt a masculine swell against her pelvis and intensity in the air. Good night, nurse, his pheromones could set her on fire. And his swelling sex organ was astonishing in length and girth. There was no doubt about it, he was not an average-sized human. And whatever that was, even if it was a human-like dick, would never fit inside her human body. A most interesting data tidbit for her field notes.

  “Do you, now? You like the game of cat and mouse?” she asked.

  He replied, “In fact, I do not. I find games frustrating and dishonest. My feelings are straightforward. But you are not ready yet. There is too much for you to take in. It would overcome you, the same way you were overcome when you looked at The Ruins and saw what was truly there.”

  This last twenty-four hours had been worlds more bizarre than any other day of her life.

  Although he spoke well, the primeval predator thrummed in his voice. A feral subhuman huddled under whatever type of skin or exoskeleton he possessed. She saw in her mind’s eye his bared teeth when he was angry with her.

  “Please take off my blindfold.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re not ready.”

  “You want to fuck around with me but you don’t want me to look at you. Sounds like an interesting kink.”

  “You’re trouble.”

  “I’m trouble?” She pushed up against him again, and once more felt a growl deep in his wide chest. It vibrated through her and pebbled her nipples and sent blood rushing to her core.

  “There are plenty of other humans whose minds are more easily bent. Who don’t require imprisonment to…tenderize. I take what I want and everyone leaves happy. We leave them better than we found them. Nice and tidy. But you’re different. You can cause problems for me.”

  “So why not let me go? I promise I won’t say anything.”

  More silence.

  And then, “Because you’ve seen too much.”

  Ada laughed and pushed against the clench of his hands at her wrists, which were still locked against the earth. The sounds of birds chirping overhead provided an absurd pretense of a normal sunrise. Nothing strange happening here, they sang.

  “So why not wipe my memory? You can push into my thoughts. Why not convince me this was all a dream?”

  “It’s more involved than that. With someone like you, it can do irreparable damage, I’m told.”

  Before she could follow up with more questions, her captor speedily hoisted her to her feet and silently swept her away. He brought her into a huge, echoing room, where they stopped near something that sounded like running water.

  “You’re to take off what remains of your clothes and clean yourself in the fountain.”

  “You lied to me. You do have indoor plumbing,” she laughed.

  He hesitated to give her any answers, but he sounded as if he enjoyed correcting her. “This…my house sits over an underground spring.”

  She tried not to look too impressed, sensing this was somewhat of a show-off statement. “OK, but isn’t bathing in a fountain kind of gross?”

  He sighed. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

  That elicited a laugh from Ada. “That’s hilarious.”

  His voice was reassuring. “I’m sorry it has to be this way for now. You’ll understand soon. I’ll close my eyes when you undress if it will help.”

  She grumbled, realizing she didn’t have a choice. Well, she did, but she could feel dirt in her hair and all over her limbs. And she didn’t feel like arguing with her prison guard all day. She took off her bra and underwear and let his oversized arms guide her feet into the fountain.

  “At least it’s not freezing,” she said, noting the warmth. Pleasantly, the water turned out to be the universally perfect temperature. That sweet spot of not-too-hot, not-too-cold that she could never achieve in her shower back at home in her apartment.

  Once again he handed her soap, with a cloth as well, and she bathed herself, kneeling in the fountain, finding the water level came up to her breasts. She knew he could be watching her rub herself clean. Yet she believed him when he said he didn’t tell lies. Under strict instructions not to turn around, he removed her blindfold for a moment, allowing her to completely submerge herself under the surface of the water, scrubbing her hair and scalp free of dirt. Something about the water made her not feel just clean. It was more than clean, it was healing, both to her body and her spirit. Something compelled her to swallow some of it. The shaky feelings as a result of her hangover were gone instantly.

  When she broke the surface again, she marveled at the wild sensation that came over her. It was like waking up from a deep, healing nap as if a fever had broken and her body was renewed.

  “What the hell is this?” She dared to turn her head and got the briefest glimpse of an enormous blur. It startled her so much she jerked her head back around and kept her eyes downward.

  Her companion replied, “I knew you would try me. You forced me to use magic.”

  She scoffed. “Magic isn’t real.”

  “After all this, after person-to-person contact with the Giant of Bell Mountain, you still say magic isn’t real?”

  “I can’t believe you admitted that.”

  “You already figured it out, no sense in pretending.”

  “Then,” she said, smoothing the washcloth over her stomach, “no sense in pretending you didn’t already admit there are more than one of you. You said ‘we leave them better than we find them.’”

  “I meant for you to know that. You're here to collect data.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Because I know everything about you.”

  Ada took a moment to think about that and understood what he was implying. “Oh, I get it,” she said. “The Giant of Bell Mountain is a weirdo stalker?”

  Patiently, he said, “I’m not a weirdo.”

  She laughed. “Well, that’s a relief because the blindfold and the kidnapping was sort of making me nervous, but now that you say you’re not a weirdo, I feel so much better.”

  She got no reply but a rushing sound, like someone unfolding and whipping a soft blanket in the air, then she felt her captor taking her hands and helping her out of the fountain and placing her down on the floor, setting the blindfold back over her eyes. It felt as if he were wiping her body dry with something that was not a towel. It felt like feathers from before.

  This shit is getting weirder and weirder.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Never mind that for now.”

  “Well, kidnapper, would you like to know my name?”

  He was covering her up in the feathery blanket, wrapping her up in it to keep her warm. It was not an unwelcome sensation when she realized his waist-up naked body was wrapped up with her. Still, she would not allow herself to feel comfortable being held against her captor.

  “Your name is Ada Blair, you’re 29 years old, you hold a Ph.D. in anthropology from Stanford University. You wer
e born in Seattle and you came here to give a speech at the Folklore Festival and you could not resist the temptation to investigate the one thing you have not explained away yet on this continent—the Giant of Bell Mountain.”

  She refused to get rattled. “You could easily find out most of that from the internet.”

  “I don’t use the internet,” he said, and, with a huff of impatience, swept her up against his chest. The odd floating sensation was back.

  “What’s happening? Why are you carrying me?”

  “It’s faster this way, and we’re less likely to run into…into problems.”

  Mentally, she put a pin in that statement. “Blindfold or not, I’m headed back to my prison cell, so you might as well let me see you.”

  He said, “Not yet. And that’s final.”

  “I can trick you into it.”

  A rumble as deep as a sleeping bear in an ancient cave vibrated against her skin as he carried her. It delighted her, shamefully. His chest was hard, his arms that caged her to his body, harder. His demeanor, not to be trifled with. But oh, she loved to poke and prod and trifle. Whether or not it was for science, she liked to determine how far she could push. To discover how things and people and creatures (in this case) react.

  “We’re here,” he said quietly. “I’m going to open the door. In the closet, there are clothes for you to wear temporarily. I will get you something in your size eventually. I apologize that this is all I have for now. If I let go of you to open the door, will you run? Remember we can start the whole process over again and I will catch you.

  “I’ll stay,” she relented, her voice wispy. Terrified but curious. Repulsed but excited. So many emotions and thoughts all at once. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t even need mind control to want to stay.

  She could have tried again to remove her blindfold while he opened the heavy door, but she didn’t. And why? Did he deserve his anonymity? Did she feel some sort of compassion for him? She supposed so, yes. As a simple creature to be logged, tested, and experimented upon. Her first real up-close discovery. Her first real communication with a cryptid. Of course, she felt something, as a scientist. She felt some compassion for all the cryptids she chased and logged and took notes on.

  Yes, he had taken her against her will and she would have preferred a civilized encounter. But for all that she knew, she was in the middle of the greatest adventure of her life. And for that, she was grateful.

  “But,” she said once she stepped inside, “you don’t have to lock the door this time. I won’t leave.”

  He said, “It’s not just about keeping you here. It’s also to protect you from the others. When I close the door, you will be able to remove your blindfold.”

  Once locked inside her room, she pondered his response. Had he meant “others” as in other human creature hunters like herself, or people who might be looking for her? Or “the others,” as in others like himself who might not like her being here?

  She thought about that as she looked around for the clothes he’d mentioned. Indeed, at the far end, to the side of the window, was another door. Inside was a closet with hanging clothes, all of them long dresses of natural fiber, all of them made to fit a woman of much larger stature than her. She pulled one off a hanger and draped it over her body. She laughed as she waltzed around the room with a long white train. It was pretty, but it was so big it hung off of her.

  When she closed the door, a fire crackled in the fireplace that had not been there before. She approached and inhaled the scent of woodsmoke and incense, and instantly felt her body relax. Relaxed, but also needy. Never in her life had she felt such an impossible internal battle. It was ridiculous.

  Surely she was all wrong. It was her raging romantic dry spell causing her body to get excited. On top of that, the new adventure and the knowledge that she coveted was getting her worked up. The burning wood cast the room in a dance of orange and shadow that lured her mind closer toward sleep.

  In the orange light, she could make out strange faces carved into the bedposts when she climbed in. The demonic and angelic shapes intertwined together in a strange sadistic dance that Ada did not find conducive to sleep.

  Her thoughts wandered to the memory of the giant’s hands on her wrists as he helped her wash. And the memory of exposing herself in the fountain, bathing while he looked away. Had he also looked away while wrapping her up in that strange blanket of feathers? She smiled despite herself.

  God, why was she allowing all of it to affect her? Why did it feel so amazing to be wrapped up tight against the body of the creature who was essentially wearing her down to bed her? Why was she getting swept up in some Beauty and the Beast drama like a teenage girl? She knew nothing about him.

  She also could not for the life of her remember what she was supposed to be doing today.

  Perhaps she would fall asleep and wake up at home and remember none of this. Maybe the last few hours had been nothing but a dream, after all.

  She slipped off the too-big dress and laid it on the bed, then tucked herself beneath the silky white sheet and the heavy white duvet. Her skin lit up with pleasure at the feel of the exquisite fabric against her skin.

  What was it about this place? Everything she’d touched—from the fabrics to the water, and even the stone—made her feel alive and fresh with desire like a teenager. The bed was like a cloud and the sheets were like a breeze rippling over her nipples, her stomach, her thighs. The smell of woodsmoke and incense along with the glimmering firelight heightened her body’s desire to be touched. And yet as her fingers reached down and parted her soft, needy lips, her eyes lit on the bizarre carvings in the bedpost. Fierce warrior-like faces peered out of vines. She fixated on the fairy-tale vibe of it. An apple, a rose. An angry bear. A pack of wolves. A warrior. A princess. She would look at the warrior while she touched herself and she would pretend it was him, her captor, even though it was wrong. She would call him Charlie. That was a nice guy’s name.

  I’m losing my ever-loving mind.

  Her fingers found her swollen clit and it radiated pleasure and deeper need the instant she touched it. She found herself biting down on her bottom lip and could not control her eyes rolling back in her head.

  Her thoughts slid back and forth between enjoying her own body and thoughts of what the giant’s hands would feel like doing this to her. Would he be fast and urgent or would he be slow and torturing?

  One hand continued to nudge the taut button softly while her other hand stroked her body. Her smooth stomach, the sides of her round shoulders, her apple-sized breasts, She dared not touch her nipples for fear of coming too quickly. She was enjoying her self-pleasure too much.

  Her roaming hand felt her neck and plunged downward, sweeping down to her thighs.

  What if he’s watching me? she mused.

  Her mind said of course he was watching. All prison cells in the real world were subject to surveillance. Certainly, he was sophisticated enough to have some sort of way to keep an eye on her.

  Of course, he lurked. That’s what he did best. If not in the same room, then somewhere.

  She should stop. This isn’t going to get him out of your system, she thought. This will only serve to bond you to him deeper. She felt the need so strongly on principle that she said it out loud. “Ada, stop.”

  And she stayed her hand.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Samuel

  What would she do?

  The giant was fervid with anticipation.

  His captive had thrown back the sheet. Her exposed skin glowed in the firelight.

  Samuel watched all of it from his study a few feet away, one leg draped lazily over the arm of the antique sofa, his angelic eyes viewing right through the wall.

  He knew he shouldn’t have peeked. He should have let her have her privacy. Bloody hell, he could still smell her on him, he could still feel the water drops on his torso from when he held her close after her bath; the feathers having been far from as absorbent
as a towel.

  Next time bring a towel, dumbass, he told himself.

  His aching cock had not calmed down since he’d had to tackle her to the ground to subdue her. She could push back against his calming thoughts if she wanted to, so he’d had no choice but to wrestle and pin her down.

  He was too exhausted from pushing. He knew he shouldn’t try to look. It would only make him more attached, and he didn’t yet understand the attachment. He needed more information. Such as why was she a Seer? Why did her name emerge in the scroll? Why did he feel so drawn to her?

  All good reasons not to push his sight into her room. And yet, despite all of that, his body was on fire. The droplets of water on his stomach trailed downward, licking his skin on their way to the source of his base human desperation. Even those tiny droplets of water still smelled like her. And that wetness taunted him as if she were still physically pressed against him.

  When she’d thrown off the sheet, she had told herself to stop. All this pushing through earthly barriers with his mind was draining him. Her pleasuring hands had stopped, and the suspense pulled a wicked curse from his lips.

  Samuel’s mouth watered. He was the big bad wolf, lurking in the woods, watching his prey choose a path. Would she choose to give in or would she be a good, safe girl?

  He knew which choice he preferred.

  Samuel exhaled a rattling breath when she made her final choice. It was wrong to keep watching. But he no longer cared. He was in actual pain. He had her in his possession, but the pain was even greater being away from her after he’d touched her, held her body close to his.

  Ada’s hand cupped her pussy and began massaging in earnest. Her other hand pinched her nipple, hard. It was then Samuel recognized she was trying to get it over with. She hated herself for what she was doing. She felt shame, so she was in a hurry.

  It was a further violation to press into her mind at this point, but he had to. He couldn’t bear for her to feel that way.

  “Take your time. You have nothing to be ashamed of, little fox.”