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Taken by Two(3)

By:Sam J. D. Hunt


“You can skip the bra,” he groaned, resting the palm of his hand across his bulging erection.

“They’re fairly heavy, sir, may I?” I asked, reaching for my lace bra. He nodded, a fine dew of sweat glistening on his tanned forehead. Men may think they have the power, but I have my weapons—even against dominant alpha males like Rex.

I wrapped the lace bra around my weighty triple-D breasts before reaching for the silk dress. He was attracted to me—he shifted on the bed, his desire for me a tangible presence in the snug cabin. Stepping into the dress, I turned my back to him. “Zip me, sir?” I waited—praying he’d take the bait. Within seconds I heard his heavy feet shuffle toward me, his rough fingers deftly pulling the zipper up my back.

He grabbed me—his strong arms wrapping around my round waist. “Don’t play with me, Penny.” Continuing to hold me, his breathing was ragged, his erect cock pressing against my lush ass. He used my name, I thought, a smile fighting its way to my lips.

I ground against him before walking a step to slide into my designer pumps. I turned to face him. Rex was big—not just tall, but built like a tank. He towered over me, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets—his prominent hard cock forming an immense curved outline against his torso. Damn, Nathaniel is beautiful, but this guy is all sexy testosterone, I thought as he walked toward me.

I moved to lean into him, to flirt, but he grabbed me hard and yanked me toward the door. “Let’s go,” he barked as I fought to stay upright on my stilettos. He was several feet behind me as we walked through the opulent interior of the small jet. I knew this was my chance to escape—there was no way this ape was taking me to his compound, no matter how sexy he was. The second it was within reach, I sprinted toward the cockpit and slammed the door behind me—in Rex’s face, I realized, as I felt the impact of flesh and heard him swear. Locking it, I quickly begged the two uniformed men to help me. “Please, I’ve been kidnapped, I’m Penelope Sedgewick and I…” Neither man moved. One looked to the other, hands flying up in a question, and said simply, “Que?” The other man looked from his co-pilot to me, but made no effort to move. “Please! Help me!” I begged of the man who seemed to understand English. “It’s okay, Miguel,” he said to his co-pilot. “Miss, open the door. Mr. Renton is going to be pissed as fuck.” I was incredulous as he stood and brushed past me in the cramped cockpit, opening the heavy door.

Rex stood there, his hand wiping blood away from his nose. Shit! “Do you need me to help you contain her, sir?” Rex walked toward the pilot, his pilot, I now realized, shaking his head. “Nah, this little impertinent brat is going to learn a fucking lesson,” he boomed as he grabbed me by the arm. Shaking with fear—calculating in my always scheming brain what to do next—I let him pull me from the cockpit and down the narrow stairs to the hot tarmac.

“What the fuck was that? Everyone here works for me—I don’t want to hurt you, Penny!” He was talking under his breath as he dragged me toward a large dark van. The humidity of the locale, some tropical island possibly, wrapped around me and caused the silk dress to cling to my body. “I thought you did want to hurt me, Rex, I mean you’ve choked me and now—”

“I’m the one who’s bleeding here, lady! I gave you a little frisky throat hug, nothing more, just to remind you of your manners. I’m not a caveman, though—I’d rather not harm you. But, I will if it means keeping Nate safe, do you understand? I’ll do anything to keep him from harm.” He pushed me from behind into the interior of the van—a blast of frigid air taking my breath away as he climbed in behind me. “You captured Nate, though, you…” Rex sighed heavily—I can be exasperating under the best of circumstances. I’m sure I didn’t make the best captive. “I didn’t capture Nate, for fuck’s sake! He captured me.”





Chapter Two





The windows of the van were completely blacked out—I had no clue where he was taking me. I sat across the chilly van from Rex and watched him tap on his cell phone, a Blackberry—the tiny device almost comical looking in his large hands. His long legs were spread wide as he hunched over, tapping out some message with his large thumbs. On his left ring finger he wore a heavy gold band—I stared at it, trying to learn as much as I could about the enemy.

The thin silk dress didn’t offer me any protection against the blasting air conditioning of the van. “Rex,” I said, “I’m freezing—can we turn down the A/C? Or maybe can I borrow a jacket?” I used my softest tone of voice, but his dark eyes bore into me, his nose crinkled in a sneer. “Please, sir,” I added, suspecting I wasn’t on his good side. “I’m hot,” he said slowly, his eyes returning to his phone. My arms wrapped around my torso, shivering as I hunched into the vinyl seat.

He looked up and sighed before banging his hand on the divider glass separating us from the driver. It slid down, and a dark skinned man, perhaps Hispanic, answered, “Yes, Mr. Renton?” Rex pointed at me. “Rodrigo, can you turn the air down—the pampered Princess here is cold.” The driver reached over and with a stab of a button the strong wind of frigid air stopped. “Thank you, that’s all.” The glass slid back up.

“Thanks,” I said, still chilled but relieved to not be shaking.

“Here,” he croaked, reaching toward his waist and pulling his dark t-shirt up over his torso. “It’s all I have. We’re about fifteen minutes away. I think I have some chick clothes stashed somewhere you can wear—although I’d rather that flawless body stay naked.” His large cotton t-shirt landed on my lap, but I was too distracted to bother wrapping it around my goose-bumped arms. Rex’s abs were more than a six-pack, they were an eight-pack if that even exists. A light dusting of dark blonde hair covered his perfectly defined pecs, the line going down his center—my lusty eyes drank in his toned, inked body. Most distracting was his right nipple—a metal barbell piercing ran through it. I stared until he cleared his throat, drawing me back to reality. “Distracted, Princess?” A flirty smile slid across his lips. He winked and went back to his Blackberry, the knowing smile still visible at the edges of his lips.

I pulled his t-shirt over my arms as a warm blush rose from my chest to my cheeks. Yes, he’d caught me looking—but who wouldn’t look? The man was physical perfection and, even sexier, the cotton of his shirt smelled like all man. His scent was spicy and virile, with nothing artificial to cover up his masculinity. Nate smelled like a luscious cologne, but Rex smelled like an alpha male to die for.

A few minutes later, Rex broke the silence by answering his vibrating phone. “What’s up, man?” he said casually. His eyes looked over at me as he said, “Yeah, we’re ten minutes out.” He listened to the caller before answering, “Uh, yeah, I have it—I’ll get it done one way or another.” He ended the call and said to me, “Want some water?” My mouth was dry and gummy—I hadn’t had anything to drink for hours. “God, yes, I’m parched, my mouth is like sandpaper.” He reached into a compartment at the side of the van and pulled out a bottle of Fiji-brand water. I licked my dry lips, relieved that he was treating me civilly. He twisted the blue cap off and drained the entire bottle into his gulping throat. When he finished, he let a little roll down his scruffy chin before crushing the bottle in the palm of his hand. “Behave, and when you get to your room, you can have a drink. Maybe water, maybe…” He winked at me again and wiped the water from his face with the back of his hand.

I felt the chill of a cold sweat—Rex was clearly the type of man who had a sadistic streak; he liked to toy with a captive. Whether he would really hurt me or not, I wasn’t sure. Despite my trepidation, the thought of him coating my tongue betrayed me—my clit swelling and throbbing as we pulled into an industrial type garage.

The van came to a stop, but the large doors on the side didn’t open. Rex put his phone in his pocket and turned to face me, leaning in as if he was about to deliver bad news. “Listen, Penelope,” his voice was deep, serious. He’d never used my full first name before. A tremor ran across my spine. “I need you to get in this bag, it’ll only be for a—”

“No, please, I beg you—I won’t, I can’t, don’t…” He was reaching into a storage compartment and pulling out a body-sized burlap bag. “Don’t kill me!” I howled. His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows knitted together. “What? No, I’m not going to… I can’t have you seeing my place. Slip into the sack and I’ll carry you to your room. Behave and I’ll take care of you, fight me and I’ll toss you into the pond with the reptiles.”

“Blindfold me, anything but a bag. I-I’m claustrophobic, I can’t…”

“Sorry, Princess.” He leaned over in the cramped van and grabbed me, yanking me to the floor. I fought as he leaned his weight on me, holding me in place against the rough carpeted floor. “Be still,” he threatened as I continued to writhe and flail against his hard body. My mind went back to when I was seven; I accidentally got locked in a broken freezer in a friend’s garage. We were playing hide and seek, but once I got in, I couldn’t get out. They didn’t find me for almost an hour—and to this day I fear enclosed, dark places—that and anything that slithered.