His Virgin Wife

Chapter One

Emily Craven didn’t want to die.

Fear crawled up her spine as it had many times these past few months since she had been taken. She didn’t know how long it had been, only that time had passed. The sun had set, come back up, and set again.

Not that her prison was a bad one. She was pretty sure prisons didn’t contain luxurious satin sheets, four-poster beds, and a vanity table complete with an assortment of luxury-brand cosmetics she wouldn’t dream of ever affording.

Her mother had warned her. If she tried to build a relationship with her father, it would only end in failure. How right her mother was.

And how depressing her situation had become, though it wasn’t that bad. She had gone from working in a café during the day and a bar at night, to serving one man—Dom Wylde.

She didn’t know a lot about him, other than rumors of him not being a very nice person, and a lot of other things. She knew he was her father’s enemy.

Nigel Craven was her father, and he was not a very patient man but also a hotheaded one. He was known for shooting first and asking questions later, and according to her mother, not very well-liked.

Dom, on the other hand, had the respect her father craved. She knew when his name was mentioned, men and women equally desired and feared him, and that was what her father wanted.

She was trying to get to know her father. Her parents had long ago divorced, but at one time, she was pretty sure she had loved her father. Her parents divorced when she was young, and she couldn’t exactly fill in the blanks. Her father sent her gifts, when he remembered. At least, she thought he had.

It was nearing three months now, and still no sign of her father. No ransom paid. She didn’t even know if Dom had asked for a ransom to be paid. All she knew was one moment, she was climbing into her car, and the next, she was waking up in her current prison room, and waiting on Dom Wylde. She knew it wasn’t a bad setup.

He didn’t make any demands of her, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, he got her to sit with him after she had finished serving him. He demanded she spend time with him, so she ate with him.

And when he was done with his … whatever this was, he would send her to her room, until he needed her again.

It was driving her crazy, because each time she was called to him, she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last night or day of her life. She found it hard to focus.

All of her life, she’d been good—a good daughter, a good student, a good employee. She didn’t hurt people, nor was she mean to anyone. She tried her best at everything.

Now, she was trying to be a good kidnapped … person, or victim, or whatever the hell she was.

Once again, she descended the staircase and hoped after all this time she’d get over these feelings. But alas, no. She was still freaking scared. Still upset. Still worried that when she walked into the dining room, he was going to kill her. She didn’t want to die. She had plans.

Not that they were very good plans, or even enlightening. She wanted to meet someone, fall in love, have a family. One day, she hoped to be a mother. As an only child, she spent a lot of time thinking about having a brother or sister. That was why she wanted a dozen kids, or at least four. She didn’t care if they were boys or girls, she just wanted them to be healthy.

Also, she hoped to one day get a dog or two. She wasn’t too fond of cats, but she adored dogs. Loved them.

She knew some people thought her wish for the future was lame and not very modern. Being a wife and a mother was nothing to scorn or to look down on. It was what she hoped for.

Her mother told her to aim higher. She wanted to do everything right. But she had no way of doing any of that while she was trapped in this prison … although a very nice prison. Dom’s home was massive and full of every luxury, including a pool, not that she had used it.

She didn’t make any demands. She hadn’t even begged him to let her live. Some people would think she was lame or a doormat. She wasn’t sure which she would be, probably a lame doormat, because that was exactly how she felt. She was a lame doormat. If she died here, that would be on her headstone.

Stepping into the dining room, she spotted Dom. He was sitting at the head of the table, as usual. This was another little problem, and she wished there was something to hate about him.

She must have some serious daddy issues, because he was much older than her. She wasn’t sure by how much, but his thick, black hair had a few streaks of grey. There was a maturity to him. Of course, she also knew he was a man who did a lot of bad things. That was beside the point. Her father also did a lot of bad things.

Even still, she couldn’t get over the depth of his brown eyes. He made her nervous and curious whenever he looked at her. There were so many times she had to stop herself from asking what he was thinking. What kind of woman asked her kidnapper what he was thinking? With her luck lately, he was probably plotting her death. She being the nice kidnapped victim would probably help him out. Stupid, lame doormat.

“Your food is ready,” Dom said, without looking up from his cell phone.

She paused as he moved, and lifted the silver cover on her plate. “Oh, I thought you wanted me to serve you.”

There was no gun, no knife, and none of his soldiers were in the room to … hurt her. She was going to live another day.

“You took too long,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth together. Why was she saying that? See, stupid lame doormat.

Clenching her hands into fists, she slowly moved closer and slid into the seat where her food was. She stared down at the plate, and her stomach rumbled. Spaghetti and meatballs had always been her favorite. She loved the ones her mother made, which didn’t have too much garlic. She loved garlic, but not when it was the only thing she could taste on the food.

Picking up her fork, she quickly glanced across the table and saw Dom had steak and potatoes. She sliced into the meatball, and sure enough, it was either pork or chicken. Taking a bite, she knew it was a combination of both.

The food, like always, was delicious. Dom had an in-house chef, Alfie, and he was an amazing cook.

Twirling her fork into her spaghetti, she scooped it into her mouth, and knew she was not quite as delicate as she could be. When it came to pasta, she was a bit of a monster, shoveling it into her mouth. With Dom present, she tried to be sensible, delicate, ladylike, but she was starving and needed all the calories she could get.

Every now and then, she glanced up and noticed him looking at her. She didn’t know what to do, so she averted her gaze and kept eating. In the back of her mind, there was a question she wanted to ask. It had been forming for several days, if not weeks. The lame doormat inside her stopped her from asking it. Why ask a question she knew might get her killed?

She didn’t know if it was the months, the constant fear of death, or what, but now she blurted the words.

“What do I have to do to get out of here alive?” she asked.

This was not the delicate way she wanted to ask, or even the exact words she wanted to say, but they would have to do for now.

His response did surprise her. “The real question, Emily, is what are you willing to do to make it out of here alive?”

Damn it, she loved the way he said her name.

****

Dom knew he shouldn’t care. Emily Craven was not his problem. If he was in his right mind, he’d dispose of her with ease. Just get her out of his life. It was a simple bullet to the head, and she would be no one’s problem. Only, something about Emily had him taking her in the first place.

Nigel, the sniveling little shit, had every intention of selling her on the black market. He’d seen the details. He didn’t like Nigel, never had. They were enemies for a reason. Nigel was filth, and even though he knew he wasn’t a good man, he was not like Nigel.

Nigel used and abused his power. The women that worked for him would do anything for drugs, and some of that shit was sickening. He was always about making money, fast. He was even willing to use his own daughter to make a few million, by selling her virginity to the highest bidder.

Dom intervened.

He was not a good man, he knew that. Women worked for him, but they did so to earn a living, and he never forced them into it. He made sure they were clean, and he took care of those in his employ. He helped the women who didn’t want to fuck for a living as well, those who wanted a fresh start.

He owned multiple businesses, some legal, most not. He made a lot of money and was good at what he did. Men feared him because he wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary to get what he wanted.

There were rules he followed. He had his own code of ethics. Kids were off the table. Stolen women were not his business either. The only woman he had kidnapped in his forty years was right next to him, her blonde hair falling around her in a beautiful cascade. Golden hair and wide blue eyes.

She didn’t know how to answer his question. If he let her go, Nigel would do exactly what he wanted with her. It was not his business. He knew there were cops and people who were on the hunt for Nigel. It was their job to catch him.

There was something about Emily that made it impossible for him to let her go. She was not his problem. Yet, he couldn’t do that.

The men Nigel dealt with didn’t have any problem raping a woman to get what they wanted. Nigel wouldn’t care about what happened to his daughter, so long as they paid for the privilege to do it.

Staring at Emily, he knew she didn’t deserve that life. He knew all about Emily and her mother, Nora. Nora had contacted him. It must have taken a lot for her to do that. She was worried about her daughter and the way Nigel was acting. He’d never been attentive to his little girl, and now that she was turning into a beautiful woman, he was showing an interest.

Dom had taken Emily. Now, as he looked at her, he knew her life would be forever in danger with Nigel out there. The man was pissed that someone had stolen his daughter. He had come to him, demanding her release. Dom played his cards right and told him he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. He lied easily to his enemy’s face, and for good reason. Emily deserved a chance at life.

The only reason he hadn’t killed Nigel was because the law was following him around. Dom wasn’t stupid, and there was no way he was going to risk his own life to kill his enemy. There would be no prison cell for him.

Nora also played the stupid card to her ex, but instead turned the tables on Nigel. He didn’t know why Nigel hadn’t just killed Nora, but he figured there was something Nora had or knew Nigel didn’t want discovering. Either way, they were both protecting this woman.

Now, he said he would keep her safe, but he didn’t promise Nora he would keep his hands to himself. For the past three months, he’d played the good little host. Keeping her here, allowing her to wait on him. He didn’t need a waitress or staff. He liked watching Emily walk away from him. The jeans he chose for her molded to that curvy ass with utter perfection.

The tops she wore showcased her curvy body, just the way he liked. She had nice, full tits and a small waist that bloomed into full, rounded hips. He loved her shapely ass and those thick thighs. He loved watching her in either a dress or a skirt, or jeans. It didn’t matter, they all showed off her body to visual heaven.

Dom didn’t give a shit that she was a virgin. He’d never been with a virgin himself, and knowing no other man had touched her was a temptation.

She would have made Nigel a lot of money. Not anymore.

He watched as she licked her lips. There was no sensual act, she simply moistened her lips and glanced away. He watched her take a deep breath, which pushed her chest out, squeezing those tits together.

“What would you like me to do? Be your servant? Wait on you?” She pushed some of her hair past her shoulder.

Dom couldn’t help but smile. He continued to stare at her. Emily was one of a kind, that was for sure. She glanced away and then looked up.

There was two ways he could handle this. One was taking his sweet time, torturing her a little, milking this for everything it was worth. The second was just being blunt.

“I want to fuck you, Emily,” he said.

Her eyes went wide, and he heard her shocked gasp as she looked at him and then glanced down at her food. He waited.

“What?” she asked.

“You heard me.”

There she went licking her lips, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have those lips wrapped around his cock.

He got to his feet and moved behind her chair. Placing his hands on the arm of her chair, he leaned down so his lips were right against her ear.

“That is going to be the price, and it is not just once either, Emily.” The temptation to lick the pulse at the base of her neck was strong, but he held himself back. “I want to fuck your sweet cunt, again, and again, and again. I want that mouth wrapped around my cock, and I want to fill it with my cum. I want to memorize every inch of you, and then when I am done and bored, you will be free to leave. That is the price. I’ll leave it up to you, if you are willing to pay it.”

And then, he stood up from the dinner table and took a step back. His cock was so hard, and it took every ounce of strength to step away. He didn’t say another word, just stepped out of the dining room. The food wouldn’t appeal to him now anyway. He went straight to his office where he left his door partially open, and he moved toward his desk. It was time for him to attempt to get some work done.

He would leave all the decision-making to Emily.

Dom didn’t believe in rape. When Emily came to him, it was going to be because she wanted him too. Besides, he knew she was attracted to him. He’d watched for the past three months how she reacted to him.

He didn’t know if she was strong enough and confident enough to act on those feelings.

He would find out.