Summer Camp Captive(9)

“The name suits you,” she breathes.

My nod is jerky. “They sent me overseas. For the first time in my life, I was part of something. I had…friends.”

Lainey wraps her arms around my waist, careful to avoid my injury. “Oh God. I’m afraid of what’s coming.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

I hold Lainey close, dropping my nose to her hair and inhaling her aloe vera and pineapple scent. “We were ambushed one night on patrol. My friends were going to be taken, probably killed. I couldn’t let it happen after what they’d done for me.” Lainey begins planting kisses on my belly, and I shudder, pleasure piercing through the pain of my memories. “I didn’t realize there were so many of the enemy. Not like tonight. They had forty, maybe fifty men…and even I couldn’t win that fight. My friends escaped to the truck, though. At the time, that’s what mattered.”

“They captured you.” She traces a scar in my back. “And this is what they did to you?”

“Yes. Before I got free.” I clear my throat, but the discomfort remains. “When I returned to camp, slashed and bleeding…the looks on their faces. If my friends could look at me like that, I couldn’t imagine how a stranger would see me. So I found this place. I found a way to stay away from everyone.”

“Carver.” Lainey looks up at me, her eyes shining. “They were forced to leave you behind. They were probably looking at you with guilt. Not fear or disgust.”

Could she be right? I was half delirious in the time leading up to being shipped home, bandages wrapped around my face and body, I only remember flashes of my men’s expressions, their clipped words. “I don’t know.”

“I do. And if they looked at you any other way, they didn’t deserve the sacrifice you made. You shouldn’t be ashamed of those scars. You should be proud of them.” She shakes her head. “And you definitely shouldn’t be hiding yourself away in the woods.”

The crowded feeling in my chest moves higher, into my throat. “I can’t imagine walking down the street like this.”

“I would hold your hand, my king,” she whispers, unzipping my pants slowly and tugging them down over my hips. “I’m not going to push you before you’re ready. I’ll be here when that day comes.” She guides me over to one of the beds, and I sit, wincing when it creaks long and hard under my weight. But when her knees land on the floor between my splayed legs, I think of nothing but her mouth. Watching it, my cock surges, moisture bubbling from the slit and dripping onto my stomach. This can’t be happening in real life. “In the meantime, you’re going to get the hero treatment you deserve.”





Chapter Eight





Lainey





Lord, he seems twice as massive from this perspective.

His thighs are stretched out on either side of my head, thicker than my torso, bulging with muscle and covered in hair. I’ve been so distracted by the rest of him, I failed to notice the ridges of his stomach. Is that a twelve-pack? Yeah. It is. A mountain range of swells, powerful and flexed in anticipation.

His erection stands waiting, veins pulsing from root to tip, moisture seeping from the head. Begging for my mouth. And after that story he told me, my heart is still trapped in a vise. He needs and deserves this. I won’t make him wait.

I take his shaft in two hands and begin stroking him, sucking in a breath at his extreme reaction. A bellow is trapped between his teeth. His arms almost go slack, sending him falling back on the bed, but he catches himself at the last minute, seeming determined to keep his view of me. His legs spread wider and begin to shake—all of this from one stroke. When I trail my tongue up the side of his arousal, he lets out an agonized moan, reaching down to twist his balls in a rough fist.

“You’re going to empty me, princess,” he rasps. “Go easy.”

“I’m only licking.” My loins flood with heat at the evidence of my power over this man. He might be a veritable giant, but one flick of my tongue can turn him into a shuddering mess. Moisture pools between my thighs, excitement buzzes in my blood. I tilt my hips back, giving Carver a nice view of my upturned bottom, well aware that the shorts only cover half of my cheeks. Looking up at him with an innocent expression, I circle the tip of his erection with my tongue. “Is this another new way to tickle, my king?”

Carver’s head falls back, his throat muscles prominent. “Christ. Oh Christ. I might come just from having you look at me like that.”

I suck his swollen, salty head into my mouth, humming in satisfaction as his fists pound the bed. “Like what?”

“Like we’ve got a very bad secret,” he pants, his hips rolling toward my mouth. “It’s more than that, though. You’re looking at me like I’m your man. And you know I won’t fuck up again and trap you beneath me. No matter how badly you torture my cock, I’ll stay strong and keep my princess happy.”

A riot starts in the center of my chest, my pulse galloping in my limbs. This man gets me. He’s right about me trusting him, too. I don’t know how it happened so fast. Maybe it’s the way he proved how fast he could listen and adapt to my needs. Or maybe it’s what he’s been through. Whatever the cause, my heart knows it’s right. “Who says I won’t let you trap me?” Relaxing my throat, I slide my lips halfway down his length, choking despite my preparation. It’s worth the discomfort, though, when his lower half jerks off the bed, his giant hands ripping at the sheets. With a lick at the milky substance beading on his tip, I murmur, “Would you like to use your big body to hold down my smaller one?”

“Yes,” he pushes out between clenched teeth. “Yes, princess. Please.”

I give him a final hard suck, taking as much of him as possible, before using his thighs to climb to my feet. “Let’s see how bad you want it.”

Carver watches with lust-crazed eyes as I walk past him, snapping my hips side to side, reveling over the feel of his hot gaze on my backside. I move two of the hospital beds across the floor until there’s a total of three lying side to side. We now have a king-sized bed’s worth of space—still not enough for Carver, but better than a single bed by a mile. I circle back around to him and stand between his outstretched legs, stripping off my shirt and scratching my nails along his brawny shoulders. “Show me how you’d take me,” I whisper against his mouth. “I want to stand here and see how it’ll look first.”

His eyes are glazed and fastened on my breasts. Those heavy lids droop even more at my request and he wets his lips. “You want to watch me rut like an animal?”

“Yes,” I breathe, my body flushing from head to toe. “And then I want you to rut your little princess like one.”

With his pupils dilated he appears almost hypnotized by me, but he takes one final longing glance at my bare breasts and turns over on the bed, lying on his stomach. His knees plant on the mattress, lifting his hips to accommodate the enormous flesh between his thighs. His corded forearms support his upper half, the position sending muscles roaming across his back. And then he starts to fuck the bed, treating me to the most spectacular view of the century. A view of his flexing ass and thighs. His damaged back ripples with every movement, grunts tearing from his throat.

“Oh. Oh my goodness,” I breathe, my fingers sneaking down the front of my shorts to graze my underwear before slipping inside. “Carver, don’t stop. You’re…so hot.”

His movements grow uneven at my words, but then he keeps going, his hips pumping against the bed harder than before. Is this incredible man really indulging my every thought and fantasy? Yes. And looking incredible while doing it. The harder he humps the mattress, the more his thighs slide apart, showing off his tight pair of ruddy balls, the up and back swing of them as he punches his hips forward.

“Lainey,” he growls, looking back at me over his shoulder. “I hear your fingers slipping through your pretty cunt. It’s making me hurt.”

“You want it for yourself?”

“Yes. Yes.” Coming to a kneel on the bed, I reach between his legs to cup his heavy testicles, whimpering when he grinds down, trapping my hand between him and the mattress, fucking it with harsh pants. “Give me that taunting pussy. It has been bad. Very bad. Give it. Going to suck your little nipples while I fuck your hole again and again and again. It’s mine.”

I’m burning up with an incurable fever, slickness sliding down the insides of my thighs. My breasts are full and aching, and I need, I need. Is that desperate, whining sound coming from me? “Yes, I’m yours,” I say in a rush. “You can have me now—”

“Mine.” Like a predator who has been waiting for the right moment to capture his prey, Carver’s muscled arm shoots out, taking hold of me and dragging my body beneath his sweating, male bulk. My power is stripped immediately. Anyone’s would be with this man above them, his obsession radiating from every inch of his body. His erection juts out, crude and pulsing between us….and my thighs spread of their own volition. I’m claimed. I’ve already been claimed by this man, I trust him and I’m his source of release.