Claimed (13 page)

My expression must have given me away. Normally, he would have teased me and made me wait, but today, he didn’t do that. He just gave me what I needed. Himself. The weight of his body crushing mine. The thick feel of his cock splitting me open. The unshielded pleasure in his eyes as he sunk into my body.

Some days, I needed sweetness. Today was one of those days, and in his arms, I found it. As we both reached for each other and held each other as we fell apart, I fell in love with him all over again.

Ellie:

I woke up so early in the morning that the sky outside was still a dim grey and the sun had yet to rise.

For a few seconds, I contemplated staying in bed and snuggling next to Alexander. But while some of that sentiment was rooted in obvious desire for him, I could recognize that there was a healthy dose of avoidance in what I did. If I stayed in bed the entire trip, I wouldn’t have to face my memories of this place.

I forced myself to move. Action would make me feel better; dwelling in my own thoughts would only make everything worse.

“What time is it?” Alexander’s voice was roughened with sleep and his eyes were still shut. He looked adorable.

I glanced over to the small clock at the side of the bed. “Quarter after five,” I said and he groaned. “Go back to sleep. I’m getting up.”

He cracked an eye open at that and surveyed me. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him.

“Okay,” he replied. He pulled the sheet over his head, signifying that our conversation was over. I chuckled at that and got up.

***

Alexander had spared no expense in the renovation but the result was one of comfort, not opulence. I let the hot water from the shower cascade over me as I contemplated the shining faucets and clean ivory tile. In keeping with his stated purpose of converting the house into a women’s shelter, the bedroom we’d slept in last night wasn’t large. Jean-Luc had the bedroom across from us, Alexander had told me last night. Sasha and Andrei had two rooms next to us.

The house was silent. My body cried out for a cup of coffee. Mrs. Olusola was an early riser, but even she wouldn’t get to the kitchen for another hour. I dressed myself in a pair of olive-green pants and a black t-shirt, clothes that made me feel like a soldier, strong and invulnerable. Then I went in search of caffeine.

As Dylan’s captive, I’d spent a lot of time in the kitchen. Now, my hands instinctively opened the refrigerator where I knew I’d find the coffee beans. Mrs. Olusola used to store them there; she’d been convinced the beans would rot in the hot, humid climate.

Almost on automatic, I scooped a handful into the coffee grinder on the counter, and spooned the grounds into the coffee machine. The fancy gadget looked out of place in this otherwise sparse kitchen and I wondered if it was here for our benefit.

“Hello.”

I jumped before relaxing and turning around. I recognized that faintly accented voice from our brief conversation last night. Katrina.

“You startled me,” I replied lightly. “Coffee?”

“Yes please,” she said. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

I shook my head, stretching to open the cupboard above the sink where Mrs. Olusola kept the sugar. Katrina raised an eyebrow at that. “You are familiar with this kitchen, aren’t you? I was watching you last night. You’ve been here before?”

I nodded.

“As a captive?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

I gazed at her in shock. “How do you know?”

She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…” she looked up, straight at me. “I’ve been one. I can tell the signs.”

“You’ve been what?”

She exhaled. Her hands clutched at an empty coffee cup. Her eyes focused on a spot in the distance and her body was stiff. “A captive, a slave, whatever you want to call it. I was Stanislav Durov’s mistress.”

I racked my memory to try to recall everything I knew about Durov. He was from Georgia; he’d arranged for Dylan to be sheltered there. He preyed on the desperately poor men and women who lived in the former Soviet Union and he had run an empire of brothels and escort services and strip clubs. There had been other talk – of extortion from other area businesses, of murder and violence.
His tastes are extreme,
Lucien had said once.
He likes to watch his women bleed.

My gaze caught the details I had missed last night. The thin web of scars that ran all over her exposed forearms. Knife wounds, now healed. But while skin could knit together, it took longer to recover from mental wounds. Yet Katrina had survived that the same way I’d survived Dylan.

Now she was here; she was a bodyguard for the man who had arranged her tormentor’s death.

They had tried to break us, but we had not broken, neither of us.
They were dead; we remained alive.

“I’d been engaged. Then Stanislav caught sight of me and decided he wanted me. He had my fiancé killed and he had me abducted.” She swallowed. “I spent six years with him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, hating the uselessness of my words.

She shrugged. “I didn’t tell you for your pity,” she replied. “The others don’t understand.”

I opened my mouth to disagree with her. Jean-Luc had watched each moment of every torture session Dylan had taped, in order to protect Alexander from those images. And Alexander? I remembered the look in his eyes last night, when he talked about how he had failed Pamela. He’d never been raped and tortured, but Dylan’s actions had forever changed the course of his life.

So many people had helped me along the way. Mrs. Olusola had bathed my wounds and when she could ill-afford it, she’d given me money so I would be able to escape. Lucien had rescued me and trained me. Madame Lorraine’s trainers had made me realize that pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin. In San Francisco, my sessions with Dr. Wilson had finally freed me of every last shackle.

None of these people had been kidnapped and raped, but even so, they had all genuinely been helpful. I’d let them in and I’d accepted their aid because I’d needed them, and with their help, I’d been able to recover. “They might understand more than you think,” I said gently.

She shrugged, keeping silent and not offering me a response. The coffee was ready. She reached forward and poured herself a cup, and she left without speaking another word.

***

Alexander:

When I came downstairs, Ellie was the only person sitting in the dining room. “You woke up,” she remarked. “Want me to get you something?”

I kissed the top of her head as I walked by her to go to the kitchen. “I am capable of fetching my own coffee,” I replied.

She laughed. “Take advantage, Sir,” she mocked. “I don’t make this offer all the time.”

My lips twitched. “You are in a good mood this morning,” I said. I poured myself a cup of coffee and popped two slices of bread into the toaster before I went back out to the dining room. “How come?”

“I’m just taking your advice from last night,” she said. “I was talking to Katrina and she was telling me about her past. Did you know?”

“About her relationship with Durov, you mean?” I nodded. “Of course. I’d met her many times before.”

“So she joined you right after Durov died?” she probed. “Did Jean-Luc train her?”

I shook his head. “She only contacted me this year.”

She frowned. “Isn’t that odd? Who taught her to fight?”

“Probably Durov himself,” I replied. Katrina had not wanted to talk about her training and out of respect for what she had endured, we had accepted her silence. We’d done a thorough check on her and she was clean. “He liked it when they fought back. Now, enough work. Let’s talk about something else.”

“What?” she asked willingly.

“Anything except this situation,” I replied. “Tell me about your life in San Francisco.”

“I’ve a confession to make,” she said. There was a smile playing about her lips, a warning that a sassy comment of some kind was about to emerge. “I prefer Californian wine to French.”

I kept my expression serious, while I clutched at my heart and looked at her. I was proud of how absolutely deadpan my voice sounded when I spoke. “You’ve inflicted a mortal wound, cherie. That’s a deal-breaker right there.”

“Really?”

She sounded a little bit worried and I quickly shook my head. “Of course not, Ellie. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“You called me your girlfriend,” she said.

It felt so weird to be having a
‘state of our relationship’
conversation at this time, but I went with it. I was determined to answer every question, appease every curiosity of hers.

“Okay?”

“And you said you were moving to San Francisco?”

“I did, yes.” I was puzzled by this conversation.

“Well, what does it mean? Do you want us to live together? Are we going to live in separate apartments and try dating for a while? On Saturday nights, will we go to dinner and a movie, followed by some kissing in the car?”

At that, I laughed aloud. “Dinner and a movie. That sounds bizarre.”

“You’ve never taken someone out for dinner and a movie?”

I shook my head. “When? In my early twenties, I was busy learning to fight as a mercenary soldier in North Africa. Then, when I came back to France, everything was focused on making money and taking down Dylan. I’ve had my fair share of casual sex. But this stuff that normal people do?” I looked at her. “You’ve had much more practice at it than I have.”

She grinned cheekily. “It is so refreshing,” she quipped, “to hear that Alexander Hamilton doesn’t know how to do something. It gives me hope.”

“Brat,” I said fondly. “To answer your question, I’d assumed that we’d live together, though I’m now realizing that I should have possibly asked.” I made a face. “I don’t have a lot of relationship practice.”

“Am I your first girlfriend?” she teased.

“Third,” I responded, amused. “The first one was when I was sixteen.” I chuckled at the memory. “I’d come home for summer and Charlotte worked in the local bakery. I bought croissants there every day for a week before I gathered up enough courage to ask her out. We dated for a few weeks, but it ended in disaster. We’d taken the bus to the Pont Du Gard and I’d packed a picnic for her, which included a bottle of wine. It was supposed to be nice and romantic, except that after drinking that bottle with our lunch, we got lost in the woods. I’d never been on a hike before, so I didn’t know how to read the trail markers to get us back to the bus stop. We walked for hours.”

She giggled at my story and just like a ray of sun breaking through cloud cover, it struck me that this woman was my girlfriend. We were in a relationship. For too long, I’d denied myself those things, but now, everything was possible and more than that, everything was amazing because of her. “She had on these pretty sandals that gave her blisters and I didn’t help when I called them stupid. She broke up with me the instant we got back home.”

“Poor Alexander,” she mocked through her chuckles. “And Angela was the second?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I keep forgetting that you remember everything,” I said ruefully. “I’m fairly sure I’m never going to win an argument in our relationship.”

Our relationship.
I’d said it out aloud, as if it was a real and tangible thing that was within our reach at the end of seven days. I saw her smile at me, a hesitant smile that gradually widened. So I smiled back at her and I allowed myself to dream.

Alexander:

Anton flew in that evening. He’d pulled up in a convoy of three cars and he got out from the middle one. In the distance, the dogs barked, but they were safely restrained until everyone could get indoors.

“Alexander,” he greeted me with a friendly grin once he entered the living room. “You rescued me from having to spend Christmas with my family. I can’t thank you enough.”

I laughed at that and we hugged. “Where is everyone?” he asked, looking around. His men were going back and forth from the cars, emptying their contents. A range of weaponry came into view.

“We are a small bunch,” I told him. “There’s only seven of us. Jean-Luc went to the town to get some supplies. He’ll be back any minute.”

His expression shifted from me and I heard footsteps. I turned around to see Ellie at the door. “Hi,” she said hesitantly.

She’d told me earlier that she was going to be horribly embarrassed around Anton. “Why?” I’d asked, not comprehending. After all, she wasn’t embarrassed around Jean-Luc.

“Because I actually dropped the robe and got naked when Anton ordered,” she’d replied. “The other stuff is more passive. I don’t have any memories of Jean-Luc watching the videos, because I wasn’t there. But with your friend…” she’d blushed and buried her face in my shoulder. “Awkward.”

I had laughed at her. I’d watched her and Katrina spar today in the gym, both women fighting to gain the upper hand. I’d admired the lean strength of Ellie’s body and I’d got uncomfortably turned on at the two of them grappling with each other, sweat dripping from their faces… Even now, that image made my cock stir. It was hard to reconcile that same woman with the girl whose face had turned fiery at the idea of meeting a man who had once seen her naked.

Now, she came into the room and I performed introductions. “Ellie, Anton. You’ve met before.”

Anton grinned. “Good to meet you again,” he said. “Under rather different circumstances than before.”

She blushed but held her ground. “Indeed,” she quipped. “I’m wearing clothes this time around.” She smiled at me. “I’ve been sent to tell you that dinner will be ready in an hour. Anton, there’s six of you, right? Mrs. Olusola has prepped six bedrooms, I can show you where they are.”

I frowned. “I don’t want you running errands for her,” I said. I didn’t want her to be reminded of her past time here anymore than necessary.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “Anton, see you at dinner?”

He nodded. When she’d left, he turned to me with a smirk. “The famous Alexander Hamilton, finally taken down by love,” he said dryly.

“Is it that obvious?”

He laughed. “I do know you rather well,” he responded. It was true. Anton and I had gone to the same boarding school. We’d been friends since I was a child. “Why is she even here? I’d have stashed her away somewhere safe.”

I laughed. “You try telling her that,” I said. “I’ve hinted and she told me to knock it off. Evidently,” my tone was wry, “ordering around the woman you love doesn’t really work very well.”

“So they tell me,” Anton quipped.

I looked at him sharply. There was a tone of strain there. We kept in touch by phone and email, but I hadn’t seen him for a few months now and I could see the lines of stress in his face. He hadn’t been at Lori’s auction either for the last year. Lori had told me that herself. She hadn’t been pleased at all that two of her best customers seemed to be suddenly disinterested in attending her auctions.

I didn’t pry. If Anton wanted to talk, he would. Concealment was instinctive to the two of us. Each of us had grown up with our own demons and it had made us cautious and wary.

“Alexander,” another voice interrupted us. This time, it was Sasha. “Have you seen Andrei? I’m terrified he’s going to wander out onto the grounds to play with the dogs.” She noticed Anton there and stopped short. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

She was staring at him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. I knew them both very well and I was watching something magical.

In Saint Denis, the moon had shone bright in the night sky and the woman that I would come to love had trembled and shuddered in my arms. That night, there had been the first inklings that something deep and real was going to happen between the two of us.

Nigeria wasn’t Paris. This hot, dusty compound wasn’t the most romantic setting in the world, but it didn’t seem to matter, because the way Sasha and Anton were looking at each other was very familiar to me. In the midst of chaos and insanity, something sweet and poignant and real was about to happen.

***

Ellie:

After dinner, I looked at Sasha. All evening, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Anton, and he had been pretty much the same. A mask had been peeled off and the almost-cocky, self-assured man who’d instructed me to take off my robe in Madame Lorraine’s auction had been replaced by someone more authentic and much more likeable.

“Do you want me to read Andrei a bedtime story?” I asked her in a soft whisper. She looked like she could use some alone time with Anton.

“Could you?” She gave me a hopeful look. “This is all so strange to me.”

I knew that Sasha hadn’t dated anyone after her boyfriend had been killed. She’d been focused on her young son. But people weren’t meant to remain forever in a shell, untouched by love. She was young and vibrant and alive, and she needed to see that about herself.

Across the table, Alexander grinned at me. “What are you talking about?” he asked lazily. Mrs. Olusola had outdone herself. We were stuffed with food and drink, pleasantly full and relaxed after a lovely Christmas Eve dinner. The threat posed by Lucien had receded to the back of my mind. With the arrival of Anton’s five guards, I felt a little safer.

“You,” I said promptly and Sasha giggled at my side. She wasn’t looking at Anton, but my gaze rested on him for a second, and I was startled at the look of naked yearning on his face as he watched her laugh.

“Really?” Alexander’s eyebrows rose and my body tingled in anticipation. Once Andrei was asleep, I wanted to pounce on him. I would ride on his cock, my hips rising and falling as I took my pleasure. His face would distort with his need; his hands would reach up and cup my breasts and tweak my nipples. His thumb would connect unerringly with my clitoris and he would urge me to greater and greater heights of desire.

My cheeks flushed as I contemplated those images. I felt Alexander’s eyes on me and I wondered if he could sense the arousal emanating from me. His smile turned predatory and hungry.
Oh yes, he did.

***

We both took Andrei up to his room and I watched Alexander read him a bedtime story. It was immensely sexy. “You’ll do just fine at being normal,” I assured him once Andrei had fallen asleep. It was still quite early, a little after nine in the evening. “That was hot.”

“Reading a story?” His voice was amused. “Guys know that, you realize. We aren’t all that dumb. Babies and puppies.”

I chuckled. “Are you suggesting we buy a dog? I don’t think my cat would be on board with that.”

“I didn’t realize your cat was a voting member of our family,” he replied.

Our family.
That was all too real. Though I’d relaxed imperceptibly tonight, the reality remained that until Lucien was found, we weren’t out of danger.

I changed the topic. “Your dreams of a threesome are foiled,” I teased him. “Anton didn’t have eyes for anyone other than Sasha tonight.”

“You noticed that too?”

“Alexander, the chicken we ate for dinner would have noticed that. It was impossible to miss. They were not being subtle.”

He linked his fingers in mine and we walked the long corridor towards our bedroom. “I wouldn’t have necessarily thought of them as a couple,” he confessed, “but they’ll be quite good for each other.”

“I thought Sasha wanted uncomplicated,” I gossiped. “Anton doesn’t seem to fit that bill.”

“He doesn’t,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate. “But before I met you, I would have said I wanted uncomplicated too. Now that you are in my life, I couldn’t possibly imagine anything different.”

We entered our bedroom and I started taking off my t-shirt. I saw his gaze rest on my body and I chuckled. “Want a lap dance?” I teased.

He smiled. “I love you,” he said.

I laughed. He hadn’t said the actual words before but I hadn’t worried about it because in every action, in every touch and in every caress, he demonstrated his love. “Because I’m giving you a show?”

“No,
cherie
,” he corrected. “Because I feel lucky beyond belief that you are here.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Yes, Lucien is shooting at you. You are lucky indeed.”

His eyes twinkled. “Refusing to be sentimental?” he chided. “Someone’s always shooting at me. That won’t stop me from seeking my happiness where I can. You should know that.”

“I do,” I replied softly. I had sought my own happiness in his arms that first night in Saint Denis, and if I was being honest with myself, every other night I’d spent with him. My mission hadn’t always come first, though it should have. Alexander had made me believe in a life after my revenge.

“But,” he grinned, “I’m not blind and I’m not a fool. If a lap dance is being offered, I want it.”

I laughed and sashayed over to him, grinding on his lap. I was just wearing panties and a bra and his heated eyes boldly assessed my body. “Pleased with what you see?”

His lips twitched. “Always.”

I wound my arms around his neck, leaning in so my breasts brushed against his naked chest. My lips met his and we kissed for many long minutes, with heat and passion, moans and whimpers and groans before his palm slapped my ass. “Get dancing, bright star,” he ordered. He too had stripped down to just his briefs and I could feel his hard erection against my skin, the evidence of his own desire for me.

“Bossy,” I chided.

“And you are stuck with it,” he retorted.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Sir,” I smiled at him.

In that moment, touching him, feeling his hands run over my body, hearing him whisper words of love and passion and desire, danger seemed very far away. But we were wrong to let our guard down. Everything was about to change in just a few short hours.