Summer Camp Captive(3)

“Are the stories true?”

“You already think they are.”

“Well, yeah.” I lick my lips. “I hate to tell you this, but you make a terrible first impression.”

He grunts and sets me down gently on something soft. Planting on my hands on a flannel-covered mattress, I take in my surroundings. His bed could fit a football team. It’s so huge, it takes up most of the small cabin, although there’s a card table and a hearth set up nearby. “Finish telling me about your mother,” he instructs, beginning to pace, his hands curling into fists. “I can’t wait much longer.”

Unable to ignore the long, wide ridge behind his fly, I scoot back on the bed. “Can’t wait much longer for what?”

“That pussy.” He rakes his fingers down his belly, taking two handfuls of his erection. And there’s still some left over. “It’s taunting me.”

“Not on purpose.” I swallow hard. “Out of curiosity, what’s holding you back? We both know I don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s what’s—” He breaks off with a broken growl, cutting a look toward the now-closed door. “That’s what’s stopping me. I didn’t like it when we were outside and you started to look sad.”

My pulse starts going a million miles an hour, my instincts shouting at me to run. “I s-see. You wanted me to keep struggling?”

“No.”

“No?”

Conflict crowds his features. “You’re going to look sad or scared when I’m fucking your little body no matter what I do. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

More pacing, the floorboards kicking up a groaning protest. “Finish telling me about your mother.”

“I…” Shaking off my confusion, I try and remember where I left off. “Um. My mother. She sold me to a man in our neighborhood who would arrange…dates of a certain kind…between men and women and then take a big cut of the money.”

“A pimp,” he snarls.

“If you want to get technical, yeah.” My mind flips through a series of images. My mother’s indifferent expression. My rush to pack. The bus terminal. “That was the final straw for me. I took off that night.”

A dangerous light flares in his eyes. “No one touched you?”

“No.” The light in his gaze flickers, and I get the feeling I just rescued him from insanity. “But the man who owns me now…he hasn’t stopped looking. He’s a dangerous man and he took my leaving as a personal insult.”

Very slowly, Carver plants his ham hock fists on the bed, weighing the end of it down beneath his crazy bulk. “He does not own you, Lainey.” His bellow rattles my teeth. “I will kill him for putting a claim on what’s mine.”

In that moment—with his vow hanging in the air—a few things occur to me. One, Carver has been watching me long enough to know my name, because I certainly didn’t tell him. Two, if he doesn’t even like to see me sad…I’m not so sure anymore that I’ll meet my doom tonight. Three, whether or not he’s planning on playing Grim Reaper, he’s definitely not keen to let me go. And that is more than enough to make me want to lunge for the exit.

“I don’t want to take away your will like they did. I don’t. You’re just a sweet, little princess,” he says, sounding tortured. Chest heaving, he wraps a hand around my ankle and yanks, leaving me flat on my back in front of him, panting up at the ceiling. “But I can’t live a minute longer without knowing what it’s like to be inside your cunt.” He licks his lips and starts to unzip his pants with blunt, hungry fingers. “Need to fuck it and feel it squeeze me all over. Taunting. It’s taunting me.”

“If you don’t want to take away my will,” I say in a rush. “G-give it back to me.”

He reaches into his jeans and drags out a heavy, massive, thickly veined arousal. I almost scream bloody murder at the sight of it. “How?” he grits out.

I remember how he reacted when I smacked him, going stock still instead of striking me back. More than that, I recall him being troubled over making me sad, I think. He wants to please me and doesn’t know how. That possibility makes me feel hot and achy, my inner thighs growing sensitive, concentrated in tingling waves at the center. I’ve stayed far away from the opposite sex because I feared being overpowered and not given a voice. What if…of all people…my kidnapper is the one who actually lets me be in charge?

Acting on instinct, I move onto my knees and grab the front of his shirt. Hard. His breath holds and he watches me from beneath hooded eyelids, anticipation radiating off of him in waves. I was right. “Don’t you dare put that big, dirty thing inside me until you’ve earned it.”

His exhale shudders out, his jaw going slack. “How, princess?”

Being that I have zero sexual experience to draw from, I only manage to sound semi-confident when I say, “I-I think you know.”

A groan rips out of him. “Licking. Licking it.”

I only have a split second to prepare before I’m tumbled onto my back, the shorts being torn from my body.





Chapter Four





Carver





Something clicked into place when I saw this girl. Watching her dive into the water from beyond the trees, an obsession was formed that will never be matched. It can grow deeper, though. That much was just proven. When her tiny hand gripped the front of my shirt, I knew why the beast inside me went wild at the very sight of her—all lithe and serious and strong-willed and mine.

It wants to be tamed. Domesticated. I want that.

The animal inside me must have recognized his mate. His match.

Lainey. My Lainey.

So small and fierce on the mattress, her hips wiggling around as I rip the shorts free of her beautiful body, revealing delicate hipbones and tight pink panties. Good Lord. I could crush her physically, but she has the power to crush my very soul with a frown, a pout. God help me if she cries.

I release an anguished sound at the very prospect, and it draws Lainey’s attention. She doesn’t even flinch when she looks at my hideous face. No, she looks curious—maybe even surprised—more than anything. What does she see, if not my scars and monstrous features? “You may take off my panties now, Carver.”

Lust is a pitiful term for the wave of starvation that swamps me. I’m a giant freak that barely fits inside his own home, and this little girl has full control of me. Whether she realizes it or not, she could make me kneel at her feet with a flick of her pinkie. I’ve never understood why God cursed me with this body that inspires terror, but I think I’m beginning to understand. I was equipped with everything I need to serve and protect my princess.

My hands are dirty and unfit to touch her, but I can’t stop them from clutching her underpants and tugging them down, revealing a sweet, innocent pussy, covered in just a dusting of fair hair. “It’s unclaimed.” I toss away the pink panties and shove her thighs apart to study the gift I’ve been blessed with. Smooth and dewy, like a sliced peach. My fucking mouth is watering at the sight of it. “It looks like it’s never even taken a finger.”

Pink climbs her neck. “It hasn’t.”

“You are…embarrassed by this?” My hands travel down the insides of her legs, pressing them wide on the mattress, my tongue growing desperate for a taste. “If my life’s suffering meant I’d be the first man to pump his cock into that good girl hole, consider me cured of my bitterness. I’m grateful.” I run a thumb down the split of her sex, enjoying her gasp. “I’m a filthy monster coming to you with an ugly, leaking cock, asking to live between your thighs for the rest of his life. Demanding it. If anyone is embarrassed, it should be me.”

I watch in awe as Lainey sits up, peeling off her tank top. My senses are still reeling from the sight of her sexy tits when she…Jesus, is she really touching my face? I melt into her hand and moan, every cell in my body racing toward the unexpected point of contact. She’s touching me without recoiling. I never would have expected that in my most unrealistic dreams.

Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling tight. Tighter. “Did you forget what you were supposed to be doing, Carver?”

Pleasure wracks me at the sound of her saying my name in that peeved tone of voice. The tingle of discomfort along my scalp is better than anything I’ve ever experienced, because she’s the one inflicting it. I can’t believe this incredible creature is upset because I’m taking too long to lick her pussy. Have I died and gone to heaven? “No, princess. I didn’t forget.”

She winds her fists in my hair. “What has you so distracted?”

“Your breasts.” I stare down at those pink, puckered buds and heave a shuddering groan. God, I need her. I need her so bad. “Your…size. So small. I just want to do this without hurting you.”

“You can’t hurt me with your tongue.”

“Oh no? It’s wider than your cunt.” I press my thumb to her entrance, tucking just the top inside. Too tight. “Yeah, my tongue is going to want deep inside here. It’s going to push your lips apart to get to the good stuff. Might as well be fucking you.”