Chapter Seven
Copper
S tormy’s wet lashes flutter and her head lolls to the side as she passes out. Alarm chases away the fury that had been raging through me the moment I realized she’d run off. Now, all that matters is getting her skinny ass back inside where I can see to her injuries and warm her up.
“Good dogs,” I praise Hansel and Gretel. “You kept this idiot from freezing to death.”
Both animals whine with worry for our new “guest.”
“She’s going to be okay,” I assure them as I shoulder her bag and then slide my arms beneath her. “And when she’s feeling better, I’ll whip her ass for this stunt.”
Hansel barks at me as though he understands every goddamn word and doesn’t like that idea. Ignoring my dog, I scoop her up and start back to the house. Her body is cold, which is worrying, and her clothes are drenched from the melting snow. I’ll need to assess the cut on her hand too that’s bleeding through her shirt she wrapped around it.
I did not want to deal with this shit when I got home.
I wanted to drill her for more answers, not play fucking hero.
But, just looking at her blue lips has me feeling like a goddamn pussy because I’m worried she went and got herself hypothermia. Regardless of what Hansel thinks, I’m definitely whipping her ass for this.
The walk back to the house is a treacherous one with all the snow covered fallen branches. It’s no wonder she hurt herself. If she’d walked down the road like a normal person, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. I would’ve seen her ass and could have just grabbed her.
Filter was right.
I’ve been too soft on her. I’ve just let her be Stormy rather than a captive traitor like she truly is. That shit changes now. Clearly, I can’t trust her at all.
I make my way back inside, hating that we’re tracking mud into the house. When her ass heals, she’s going to clean it up too because this is all her fault. I’m fuming again by the time I reach the guest room. But, when I lay her down on top of the covers, her wrecked state has my chest squeezing again.
Her boots are soaked and caked with mud, so I rip them off along with her socks first. I manage to get her jeans unfastened and pulled over her hips before she wakes in a panic. She kicks out at me, terror wild in her blue eyes. I grab her foot to keep from getting my balls smashed and she howls in pain. Relaxing my hold, I take in the bruising, swollen flesh.
“I have to get these wet clothes off of you and get you cleaned up,” I growl as I set her foot back down. “Kick at me again and I’ll leave your ass in here to die.”
A sob shudders through her, but she doesn’t fight me anymore. I’m able to remove her wet jeans and then her hoodie without any resistance. Once she’s in nothing but her bra and panties, I drag her blanket over her body.
“I’ll be right back,” I grunt out before stalking out of her room on a hunt for my first aid kit.
After unlocking my bedroom, I locate my kit in the bathroom closet and wet a washcloth with hot water. I snag a few more towels and head back to her room. She’s asleep again by the time I return, which suits me just fine. I unwrap her hand first to assess the damage.
She fucked herself up good.
With a heavy sigh, I set to cleaning the open wound with alcohol that makes her scream out in pain. We struggle a bit, but I manage to subdue her enough to get it clean enough I can suture it up. Having a boy who loved the outdoors and didn’t listen to a damn word his parents said, I did my fair share of stitching cuts up. Stormy remains still as I sew her flesh closed and wrap her up with new gauze. I work on making a compression wrap for her ankle to keep the swelling at bay. Once her injuries are seen to, I clean her up with the washcloth as best as I can before tucking her tight inside the blankets.
“Rest until I get some soup made,” I instruct.
I put away my mess and then set to making her some chicken broth. The dogs, still muddy and whiney from the day’s activities, follow me around with their tongues hanging out like I might slip them their own bowl of soup. I toss them a few treats and take the soup back to Stormy.
She’s sitting up in bed, her hair a tangled mess and her blue eyes wild, when I return. The blanket is clutched in the grip of her uninjured hand, holding it just above her breasts.
“W-Where are my clothes?” she demands, her brows pinching in confusion.
“They were soaked.” I try to keep my cool, knowing she’s still kind of out of it. “Now you’re going to eat this soup—”
“Stay away from me!”
I set the bowl down on the end table. “You can cut this bullshit right now,” I growl. “I just went and rescued your ass, treated your ass, and was about to feed your ass. What I don’t need is you making my ass feel like shit when you’re the one who fucking bolted!”
She flings the covers off and launches herself off the bed. The moment she puts weight on her foot, she cries out, flailing. I snag her before she hits the ground, drawing her into my arms.
“No!” she shrieks. “Don’t touch me, you monster!”
“Calm the fuck down!” I roar.
She wriggles and screeches in my grip. I toss her back on the bed, already over her shit. When she bares her ass to me, barely covered in a pink thong, as she tries to crawl away, I decide it’s time to punish her now rather than later. I grab her good ankle, dragging her back toward me. With a hard smack, I strike her white ass. Her entire body goes still before she snarls out every curse word known to man. I smack her ass harder this time.
Apparently it’s going to take a lot more than my hand.
She howls, her voice dripping with terror when I undo my belt. I yank it off with a swoosh as I pin her down with a strong hand on the middle of her back. Her scream is otherworldly when I strike her ass hard, just like I used to have to do to Blake when he was going through a shitty-ass pre-teen stage. She squirms and sobs, fighting me to no avail.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
I stripe her ass crimson until she stops trying to escape. Her sobs become hysterical, but she gives in to the punishment. Once I’ve deemed she’s had enough, I caress her hot, abused flesh.
“Good girl,” I praise. “Now, I want you to—”
“Please don’t rape me.”
And just like that, I’m pissed again.
“We’ve already established no one has to rape you, Stormy. All they have to do is possess something you want and you spread those pretty legs all by yourself.” I smack her sore bottom again, pleased at how she flinches. “Question is, what do you want from me, little storm? Freedom? You willing to let me fuck you for that.”
“Fuck. You.”
The fire in her tone has me fighting a smile. At least I know she’s getting back to normal. I drop my belt and flip her onto her back. She sucks in a breath when I pounce on her, pinning her wrists to the bed and crushing her with my massive frame. Hate burns bright in her blue eyes, making them sparkle like never before.
“I want you to listen real good,” I murmur, fixating on the way her lips slowly return to their pink color now that her blood is flowing hot and angry through her. “You’re mine now. I fought to keep you and I’ll keep fighting. You owe me answers and your discomfort will bring me great pleasure. Spanking you was the highlight of my day.” I smirk at her, loving the blush that creeps over her pretty makeup-free face. “When we fuck, you’ll beg for it, woman. Your pussy will be so wet and so fucking needy you’ll slide right over my cock, eager as hell to finally be getting my dick.”
“You can go right to hell,” she snaps.
I push her wrists together above her head, locking them in my grip of one hand so I can free up my other. She cries out when I grab her knee, pushing it to the side. I wedge myself between her thighs, settling my cock against her cunt. Slowly, I rock my erection against her, loving how her lips part with a gasp.
“I’ve never had to rape a woman,” I rumble, grinding against her. “I never will either.”
A whimper escapes her and she bites on her bottom lip, unable to hide how much she likes what I’m doing to her.
“I know you have me built up to be a monster in your head, but you can just quit that shit right now. I’m a man who does what he has to in order to protect his family. That includes the Royal Bastards.” I cup her breast over her bra, appreciating the way it fills my hand. “And you may be my captive, but that includes you too, little storm.”
She hisses when I curl a finger beneath the cup of her bra so I can rub across her nipple. Her breath catches when I pull back the cup, revealing the pale skin to me. I pinch at the tender flesh that’s peaked and begging for attention. Her thighs clench around my hips.
“Stop, motherfucker,” she spits out.
I tug my hand away, pleased when her eyes turn dull with barely hidden disappointment. Rather than pinch her nipple some more like I want to, I grip her jaw, holding her face still so I can see her eyes when I finally make her come. The fiery hatred mixed with lust returns in her gaze. Like the brave bitch she is, she glowers at me. Unable to stop myself, I brush a kiss against her soft lips and keep my mouth near hers so when she begins to pant, her hot breath tickles my face.
“Oh God,” she chokes out, her eyes fluttering closed.
I work my hips harder and faster, wishing like fuck my dick was bare and inside her instead. She comes with a yelp and then her entire body trembles with her orgasm. Slowly, I ease off my punishing pace until I’m simply resting against her.
“Now, you’re going to drink that soup like a good girl,” I rumble, stroking my thumb over her bottom lip. “And then you’re going to tell me every detail of Collins and Vidal you can remember.”
I pull away from her and stand. Her eyes fall to the way my dick strains in my work slacks.
“Keep staring at it like you want it in your mouth, Stormy, and I’m going to put it in your mouth. Eat the soup, woman.”
She scoots to the edge of the bed, wincing when she lowers her injured foot to the ground. I pick up the bowl of broth and sit beside her before handing it to her. As she sips on it, I grab the blanket to wrap over her shoulders.
“Tell me everything you can remember.”
She turns her head, her blue eyes studying me. “We already discussed it all last night.”
“There’s been a new revelation. Someone placed an anonymous call to my superior stating we need to look into the Royal Bastards MC.”
Her features pinch into a frown. “It has to be Collins and Vidal.”
“Agreed.”
“Why are they so fixated on you guys?” she ponders aloud before sipping on her broth. “None of this makes any sense.”
“We have to make it make sense real fucking quick, though. Right now, they have an edge on us. Tell me everything about what they were wearing, what they looked like, and where Collins’s office was. I need to know every detail so I can give Koyn as much as I can.”
She gulps down the rest of the broth before setting the bowl down on the end table. “I’m cold.”
“That’s what happens when you run through the woods in the dead-ass of winter wearing nothing but a hoodie,” I grind out. “Stop stalling.”
“I’m not stalling,” she snaps. “I can’t feel my fucking toes. Run me a bath and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Fuck my life.
If Filter saw me running this bitch a bath and feeding her soup like she’s a goddamn princess, he’d shoot us both in the heads. Thank fuck he’s not here.
“Fine. But you’re not bathing alone. I’m going to sit my ass in that bathroom and get answers. You can take or leave the deal.”
“I’ll take it.” She glowers at me. “Asshole.”
My palm itches to flip her onto her stomach and take a hand to her ass again. Instead, I curl my hand into a fist and storm out of the bedroom toward the master bath. I start a hot bath and locate some old bubble shit Krista left behind from when she and I were still married. I’m just dumping it in when I feel Stormy’s presence. She limps into the bathroom, looking pitiful as fuck.
I walk over to her and tug the blanket from her grip. She curls her arms around her waist, not looking me in the eye. Since her hand is fucked up, I take it upon myself to help rid her of the rest of her undergarments. With a quick flick of my fingers, I unhook the back of her bra and then pull the straps off her shoulders. She uncrosses her arms, allowing the bra to hit the floor. Shamelessly, I rake my greedy stare over her perfect tits. My dick is roaring to life once more as I admire the tanned round globes and hardened pink nipples.
“They’re real,” she sasses. “Everyone always says they’re fake, but they’re not.”
I cup one in my palm, squeezing hard enough she gasps. “Feels pretty real to me.”
She smacks my hand away. “Don’t touch me, motherfucker.”
A chuckle rumbles out of me as I stand behind her. Her red striped ass gets my dick really hard. I hook my thumbs into her thong and tug it down her thighs. The inside of her thong is wet from her arousal. I’d give my left nut to pick them up and inhale her scent. Unfortunately, Koyn will kick my ass if I don’t get answers soon. Sniffing her panties like some sort of lovesick dickhead isn’t going to get those answers. I squat down beside her and remove the compression wrap on her ankle so she can soak her foot in the tub.
She cries out when I scoop her into my arms. Carefully, I lower her into the hot bath, soaking the arms of my jacket.
“I’m going to change out of these clothes and then I want you to tell me everything. No more stalling.”