Capture Me (14 page)

Y
ulia

I
don’t know
what makes me kiss Lucas at that moment, but as soon as our lips meet, my anxiety melts away, replaced by aching need. I want him—this hard, confusing man who is my captor.

With my fantasies fresh in my mind, I want him more than I fear him.

The panic I felt earlier today is absent, the dark memories quiescent as he bears me down to the mattress, his hands sliding into my hair. I arch against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue invading my mouth and exploring it hungrily. He tastes like heat and raw passion, like my dreams and my nightmares. He consumes me, and I consume him in return, my hands moving frantically over his muscular back, his neck, his short hair. I know he’ll most likely kill me in the not-too-distant future—I know the hands cradling my head might one day crack my skull—but at this moment, none of that matters.

I’m living solely in the present, where his touch is bringing me pleasure instead of pain.

His lips drift over to my ear, and I feel his teeth grazing my neck before he sucks on the tender skin. My entire body erupts in goosebumps, the pleasure sharp and electrifying as his right hand slides down my side, traveling over the curve of my waist and hip before delving between our bodies to find my sex. Unerringly, his fingers hone in on my clit, and the ache inside me intensifies, the tension becoming unbearable.

I cry out his name, shocked by the intensity of the sensations, but it’s too late. I’m already coming, my body having been poised on the edge too long.

He pets me through the shattering waves of pleasure, his fingers stroking my folds until my orgasm ends, and then he grabs my leg and drapes it over his hip, opening me wide. His cock presses against my inner thigh, thick and unyielding, and a tendril of fear invades me again as I meet his glittering gaze.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he says, his voice low and guttural. “You’re mine, do you understand me? Mine.”

Stunned, I attempt to process the claim, but in that moment, Lucas kisses me again and my eyes drift shut, my ability to think evaporating. His body is a warm steel cage on top of me, his scent and taste overwhelming my senses. I can’t take a breath without inhaling him, can’t feel anything but the devouring force of his mouth and the hardness of his erection at the entrance to my body.

I clutch at his sides, my nails digging into his skin, and then I feel it—his thick cock pushing into me, penetrating me. His left hand tightens in my hair, preventing me from turning away from his mouth, and I can’t even cry out as he stretches me, invading my body as if it’s his right. He goes deep, so deep it should hurt, and it does—except there’s pleasure too, pleasure and a strange kind of relief.

Relief that in this moment, I truly belong to him.

When he’s in all the way, he lifts his head, letting me catch my breath, and I open my eyes, meeting his gaze once more. His lips are shiny from kissing me, and his sun-burnished skin is drawn tight over his harshly beautiful features. I can feel him lodged inside me, the heat of him burning me from within, and my body softens for him, embracing him with more wetness.

“Yulia,” he whispers, staring down at me, and I know that he feels it too, this pull, this visceral connection between us. He may have all the power, but in this moment, he’s as vulnerable as I am, caught in the grip of the same madness.

I don’t know whether he realizes it too, but suddenly, his jaw hardens, his gaze growing cold and shuttered. Without saying another word, he reaches down with his left hand to grab one of my wrists and pin it above my head. Next, he repeats the maneuver with his right hand, leaving me stretched out underneath him, unable to move or touch him in any way.

Leaving me helpless under a man who wants to punish me.

“Lucas, wait,” I whisper, feeling the dark prickles of panic, but it’s too late. Holding my wrists above my head, he begins to move inside me, his eyes glinting with icy fury. His thrusts are hard, merciless, stealing my breath and wringing pained cries from my throat. He’s not making love; he’s taking my body, claiming it as brutally as any conqueror.

I begin to fight him then, the panic spreading as the old memories flood in, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m pinned, invaded, and the man above me has no mercy. His body takes mine, over and over again, and I feel myself sliding into that cold, dark place, the one from which I fought so hard to emerge. The lines between the present and the past blur, and I hear Kirill’s cruel, taunting voice, smell the suffocating stench of his cologne as he crushes me into the floor. The horror begins to engulf me, but before I’m completely lost, Lucas transfers my wrists into one of his big hands and reaches between us with the other, finding my clit once more. His touch is skilled, unerring, and the stunning pleasure wrenches me back into the present, making me aware of the tension building within me again.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to twist away, to escape, but there’s nowhere to go. There’s only his cock inside me and his fingers on my clit, pain and pleasure tangling together in a vicious erotic spiral. There was never pleasure with Kirill, never anything but awful pain, and the shock of the dual sensation keeps me grounded in the moment, reminding me that the man on top is not my trainer.

It’s Lucas, another man who hates me.

Except my body doesn’t know that, doesn’t realize that the way he touches me shouldn’t cause me pleasure. Despite the roughness of his thrusts, Lucas’s fingers on my clit are gentle, and the pleasure intensifies, chasing away the darkness. Gasping and panting, I arch up, frantic pleas tearing from my throat, and he presses harder on my clit, pushing me to that sharp, volcanic edge.

“Come for me, beautiful,” he rasps out, lowering his face to my neck, and to my shock, I feel myself peaking. Explosive ecstasy wells up and radiates out to every cell in my body, all of my muscles quivering with sensations as I spasm around his thick cock.

Stunned, I cry out his name, and at that moment, I hear his breathing changing, a low groan rumbling in his chest. His hand tightens around my wrists as he thrusts deeply one last time and halts, his hips moving in a circular, grinding motion. I feel his cock pulsing within me, and I know he came too.

Desperately sucking in air, I turn my head to the side, unwilling to face him or the confusing jumble of feelings in my chest. I’m shattered, undone by both the pain and the pleasure. He’s still inside me, his cock only marginally softer than before. I feel the stickiness of sweat gluing our bodies together, hear the harsh bellows of his breathing, and strange, unwelcome tears burn my eyes.

If I had any doubts about the reality of what’s happening, they’re gone. This act, this soul-tearing thing that happened between us, impresses upon me more than ever the fact that Lucas is alive.

He’s alive, and I’m his prisoner.

The tears threaten to spill out, and I squeeze my eyelids tighter, determined to prevent that from happening. I can’t allow myself the luxury of crying. Whatever this means, whatever Lucas has in store for me, I have to bear it. I have to be strong because this is only the start.

My captivity is just beginning.

A
uthor’s Note
:
Twist Me
is a dark erotic trilogy about Nora and Julian Esguerra. All three books are now available.

I
t’s evening now
. With every minute that passes, I’m starting to get more and more anxious at the thought of seeing my captor again.

The novel that I’ve been reading can no longer hold my interest. I put it down and walk in circles around the room.

I am dressed in the clothes Beth had given me earlier. It’s not what I would’ve chosen to wear, but it’s better than a bathrobe. A sexy pair of white lacy panties and a matching bra for underwear. A pretty blue sundress that buttons in the front. Everything fits me suspiciously well. Has he been stalking me for a while? Learning everything about me, including my clothing size?

The thought makes me sick.

I am trying not to think about what’s to come, but it’s impossible. I don’t know why I’m so sure he’ll come to me tonight. It’s possible he has an entire harem of women stashed away on this island, and he visits each one only once a week, like sultans used to do.

Yet somehow I know he’ll be here soon. Last night had simply whetted his appetite. I know he’s not done with me, not by a long shot.

Finally, the door opens.

He walks in like he owns the place. Which, of course, he does.

I am again struck by his masculine beauty. He could’ve been a model or a movie star, with a face like his. If there was any fairness in the world, he would’ve been short or had some other imperfection to offset that face.

But he doesn’t. His body is tall and muscular, perfectly proportioned. I remember what it feels like to have him inside me, and I feel an unwelcome jolt of arousal.

He’s again wearing jeans and a T-shirt. A gray one this time. He seems to favor simple clothing, and he’s smart to do so. His looks don’t need any enhancement.

He smiles at me. It’s his fallen angel smile—dark and seductive at the same time. “Hello, Nora.”

I don’t know what to say to him, so I blurt out the first thing that pops into my head. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

He cocks his head slightly to the side. “Here in the room? Or on the island?”

“Both.”

“Beth will show you around tomorrow, take you swimming if you’d like,” he says, approaching me. “You won’t be locked in, unless you do something foolish.”

“Such as?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest as he stops next to me and lifts his hand to stroke my hair.

“Trying to harm Beth or yourself.” His voice is soft, his gaze hypnotic as he looks down at me. The way he’s touching my hair is oddly relaxing.

I blink, trying to break his spell. “And what about on the island? How long will you keep me here?”

His hand caresses my face, curves around my cheek. I catch myself leaning into his touch, like a cat getting petted, and I immediately stiffen.

His lips curl into a knowing smile. The bastard knows the effect he has on me. “A long time, I hope,” he says.

For some reason, I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t have bothered bringing me all the way here if he just wanted to fuck me a few times. I’m terrified, but I’m not surprised.

I gather my courage and ask the next logical question. “Why did you kidnap me?”

The smile leaves his face. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with an inscrutable blue gaze.

I begin to shake. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No, Nora, I won’t kill you.”

His denial reassures me, although he could obviously be lying.

“Are you going to sell me?” I can barely get the words out. “Like to be a prostitute or something?”

“No,” he says softly. “Never. You’re mine and mine alone.”

I feel a tiny bit calmer, but there is one more thing I have to know. “Are you going to hurt me?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer again. Something dark briefly flashes in his eyes. “Probably,” he says quietly.

And then he leans down and kisses me, his warm lips soft and gentle on mine.

For a second, I stand there frozen, unresponsive. I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll hurt me. There’s something in him that scares me—that has scared me from the very beginning.

He’s nothing like the boys I’ve gone on dates with. He’s capable of anything.

And I’m completely at his mercy.

I think about trying to fight him again. That would be the normal thing to do in my situation. The brave thing to do.

And yet I don’t do it.

I can feel the darkness inside him. There’s something wrong with him. His outer beauty hides something monstrous underneath.

I don’t want to unleash that darkness. I don’t know what will happen if I do.

So I stand still in his embrace and let him kiss me. And when he picks me up again and takes me to bed, I don’t try to resist in any way.

Instead, I close my eyes and give in to the sensations.

A
ll three books
in the
Twist Me
trilogy are now available (click
HERE
). Please visit my website at
www.annazaires.com
to learn more and to sign up for my new release email list.