Page 55 of Captive

A hero.

A monster.

CHAPTER 11

Chloe

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’ve fallen in love with a badass murderer.

“Take that, Pops.” I laughed bitterly after starting the water, waiting a few seconds so I wouldn’t freeze to death. To my surprise, the splash over my uninjured hand was warm, bordering on hot. Just stripping off my clothes almost became an exercise in futility, the bandage far too much of a hindrance.

But I finally prevailed, stepping into the claustrophobic stall and backing against the furthest wall. At least I had some peace and privacy, not completely under the man’s scrutiny. I closed my eyes, trying to work through the frustration and the fear. I enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, enough to be able to breathe again.

The slight cold draft made me bristle. I should have known he wouldn’t leave me alone. “Don’t,” I whispered, yet my body’s reaction was immediate, butterflies swarming my tummy, my pulse racing. I was breathless from his scent alone. When Iopened my eyes, I was driven back into the same roar of desire I’d experienced the night before.

He closed the curtain, his eyes piercing mine. Every move he made was that of a true predator stalking his prey, inching ever so slightly closer until he was merely centimeters away.

I pushed my hand against his chest, unable to stop the connection we’d shared since the beginning of this nightmare. He’d captured a portion of me that he’d never return, and I’d never be free of him.

There was something entirely different about him, as if I’d cracked the last piece of his armor. But there was no way to fully trust him. I couldn’t take the anguish.

When he was mere inches away, his chest rising and falling, he studied me for several seconds. He took an exaggerated deep breath, his nostrils flaring. The pulsing water beaded down his chest, the dim bathroom light adding a light sheen to his ink. Reaching out, I traced the gorgeous dragon, swirling the tip of my finger around the creature’s eye.

He didn’t interrupt nor did he try to touch me. It was just a quiet moment shared between lovers.

The joy of discovering his tattoos allowed me to understand a small portion of him. He’d chosen bold characters; creatures considered the strongest and most cunning. He was truly stunning in every way, his muscles chiseled from years of hard work, his skin scarred from brutal injuries.

His breathing became more ragged, his muscles tensing from my touch. Every cell in my body was on fire, the need for him attacking every synapse. I wanted his touch. I craved his stronghold and passionate kisses. I longed to have his cock buried deep inside.

As I brushed my finger over his shoulder, he reached for my hand, squeezing then bringing my fingers to his lips. Ever so gingerly he rubbed them back and forth, whispering beautiful words in Russian.

“Moya sladkaya detka.”

My sweet baby.

I wanted that to be true. Leaning closer, I rose onto my tiptoes, dragging my tongue across his jaw. The three-day stubble had given him sexy shadows, his look rough and tumble. When he lifted my chin, I could see pain in his eyes, another wave of regret. He lowered his head, taking his time to press kisses against my skin.

“Mmm…” I clung to him, trying not to lose my balance. The combination of his hot breath and wet tongue gave me a series of shivers. I was trembling but excited, every ember ignited.

He was so gentle, allowing me another chance to catch of a glimpse of the other man, the one he’d protected from everyone. He was haunted, demons trailing behind him at every turn. If only things could be different.

A growl erupted from the depth of his being, the sound permeating the entire space. I knew he would devour me. I closed my eyes, crawling my hands up and down his chest, the feel of his muscles against my fingertips amazing. I could spend hours exploring his body, enjoying nothing more than the simple caress.

Crowding closer, he rubbed his hips back and forth, the instant friction forcing a moan from my throat. God help me but I wanted this man. He’d awakened everything inside of me. All the desires. All the need. He’d allowed the woman I’d pushed aside to break free of her chains.

“I want you,” he said in a husky whisper before sliding his tongue to my earlobe, nipping and sucking. “I broke my promise to you, Chloe. That will never happen again.”

Shuddering, I slipped my hand to his cock, rolling the tip of my finger around in circle after circle. His shaft throbbed, filling my hand. He was so large that my pussy continued to ache from the night before. But I wanted more. Maybe I was a fool, but I believed he was mortified at his earlier behavior. I just wanted a few minutes of forgetting about the danger.

To feel his touch.

To experience his kisses.

To enjoy another round of passion.

When he leaned back, he shook his head ever so slowly. “You’re such a tease.”

“Maybe.”