Chapter 16 Nina
NINA
In the back of the sleek, expensive car, Blake holds my hand. I keep sneaking glances over at him.
Pictures didn’t do him justice. In person, Blake is spectacular. Handsome is a pitiful understatement. He’s wearing a dark-grey suit and white shirt, open at the collar. I close my mouth so I don’t drool.
It’s only a few minutes across Norwood, and Blake spends it giving a series of sharp instructions to the driver.
“We shouldn’t be disturbed,” he tells me in a lower voice as the car slides through the ornate metal gates and enters an oasis of peace in the centre of busy Norwood.
Blake’s house is huge. Sprawling, beyond a high brick wall and dense trees, and in a garden big enough to count as a park.
I remember him saying that he was born into this role, and this place makes it obvious that his power and money have history behind them.
There are even graves—presumably of his family—dotted along the long driveway.
Good to know Blake won’t be inconvenienced if he decides to unalive me.
The house itself is sort of gothic, with arched windows almost like a church.
It’s totally secluded.
I don’t know whether that’s reassuring or terrifying when the car glides to a stop.
I have to shuffle across the black leather seat, but as soon as I’m out, Blake has swept me over his shoulder again. I scream in shock as he rises to his full—very tall—height.
His hand braces over my thighs, and my bottom is, again, right. Next. To. Blake’s. Face.
Embarrassment rushes through me.
“Blake!” I cry. “I’ll walk!”
“Bunny, you’re kidnapped,” he growls. “This is how it goes.”
I get an impression of his house—a cavernous entrance hall, old-world grandeur. Leather chairs, rich colours, dark wooden flooring.
He kicks open a door, and I try to lever myself up, my hands on his muscled lower back. And his arse… My clit pulses.
I manage to twist enough to look around and see a large bedroom, painted in a dark, masculine green, and filled with natural light, before I’m hauled from Blake’s shoulder.
He throws me onto the bed, and I hit it with an “oof!” of surprise as the air is knocked out of me.
Then he’s over me, on top of me, crowding me with his wide shoulders. His knee parts mine ruthlessly.
“I take what I want. What I’m owed.”
Heat rushes between my legs, and he links our fingers together.
Blake settles his weight—or some of it—onto me, pressing me into the mattress, and I moan. I had no clue that would feel so right. Possessive and trapped and protected in the best way.
I look up at Blake again. My stomach flips, but my body relaxes.
Being with him, even when he barged into my apartment and kidnapped me, is the exact amount of excitement I was missing in my life. He’s the sort of scary that you know will only make your heart race, never actually hurt you.
He even gave me a gun to prove that. I might say I’ve been captured, but I want to be with Blake.
The expensive house, his morally questionable job, the odd way I ended up here. The whole thing is irrelevant when I see his face, his pale-green eyes lit with something I can’t identify as he regards me.
“Bunny,” he murmurs. Then his mouth is on mine, and his kiss is all encompassing. His lips are warm and demanding, gliding, teasing. Then taking.
When I gasp, his tongue slips into my mouth, and I whimper, my hips moving of their own accord, pushing up towards him.
He holds me down with his hands and torso, and I’m entirely and deliciously trapped.
“Oh my good girl. You’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He drags his mouth from mine, and the sandpaper of his stubble lights up my nerve endings as he kisses over my jaw and down my neck.
I try to reply, but it’s honestly pathetic. I can’t. It’s nothing more than a whimper.
I want this man so much.
He releases one of my hands to grip my hair as he returns to kiss my lips, thrusting his tongue possessively into my mouth. Immediately I bring my hand to his waist, exploring him as best I can, tugging at his shirt. He hisses when I touch his warm, smooth skin, so solid under my fingers.
“I knew you’d be unruly, Bunny.” He barely lifts his head, speaking around the kiss that’s stealing my soul. “Trying your worst to distract me.”
There’s a clink of metal, and I don’t understand what it means at first. I’m so thoroughly entranced by Blake, and the feel of him on me. Something soft encloses my wrist, and Blake guides my arm upwards.
Then in a blink, my other hand is in the cuff, and when I tug, my hands are held fast. I crane my neck until I see what he’s done. The handcuffs he sent me are around the dark wooden slats of his headboard.
“You’ve…” I don’t even know what to say.
He pulls back and his green eyes gleam. “Stopped you getting in my way.”
“What?” That makes no sense.
He grins, and strokes the fingertips of one hand down my cheek, so gently it sensitises me to a tingling mess. When he withdraws, I can still feel him.
“I’ve been thinking about every delicious thing I want to do with you, and I’m not having your curious hands make me spill too soon, or lose control and fuck you like an animal before I’ve tortured you with pleasure.”
My mouth falls open with shock, because behind the smile and the teasing words, I can see he’s absolutely serious.
“But, I don’t have that,” I stutter. “I can’t, I don’t know how. And I’ve never…”
“What have you never done?” he demands in a low rasp.
“I’m a virgin,” I confess in a small voice.
He’s still above me, his weight partly on me, trapping me between his hard body and the yielding bed.
“I’m honoured.” He shifts his arm and combs his fingers through my hair before tightening his fist. I gasp as the pinpricks over my scalp send a shower of need down my torso and to my clit, making it throb.
“I’m glad I’ll be the first and only one to break open your soft little cunt and use it until you beg me to stop because you’re wrung out from pleasure. ”
Another wave of warm tingles washes over me at his possessive words. Of course he doesn’t mean that we’ll be together forever, but my fated-mates-wolf shifter-addled brain springs to that conclusion without my volition.
I wet my lips nervously, and Blake’s gaze dips to watch my tongue, lingering on my mouth.
Eventually, he meets my eyes again.
“Do you trust me?”
I’m nodding before I can stop myself.
His smile is self-satisfied. He reaches over to a bedside cabinet, and I’m confused about what he’s doing, until he’s returned and the silver of a blade glints.
Fear spikes in me.
“Blake!” I squeak.
“My sweet little Bunny the Killer,” he croons. “Let me kill…”
I’m frozen with horror as he runs the sharp tip of the blade down my top.
I’m going to die.
The mafia boss is…
With a flick of his wrist, he has the fabric stretched taut, away from my skin, and slices through it. There’s a rip that wrenches through the air, then a release, as the remnants of my top fall onto my chest.
“Anything that stops me from worshipping your beautiful body,” he concludes with an evil smile.
The relief sends a high washing over me, so strong I can barely focus as he cuts off my bra and finishes removing my top, discarding the tattered fabric.
“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of your luscious tits, Nina,” he says hoarsely as he tosses the knife away and drops his mouth to my cleavage.
He’s not slow or gentle. Nope. He takes one of my nipples between his teeth, and I scream as he bites down on it. Then, all over again as he releases me, and the pleasure strikes right at my core.
“See?” He lifts his head and smirks, the arrogant bastard. “You’re going to love it as I take you apart piece by piece, and make you mine.”
Then he brackets my chest with his arms, leaning on his elbows and angling his forearms so he can cup both of my breasts.
“I want to eat you up,” he mutters as he latches his mouth to one nipple.
I cry out, the pleasure enhanced by the adrenaline coursing through me from when he scared me—no doubt deliberately.
But it’s sweet and sharp, and within seconds I’m writhing under him.
I’m naked to the waist and handcuffed to his bed, at his mercy.
He’s almost fully dressed, and completely feral.
He makes sounds of hunger and desire as he teases and worships my breasts, not letting up for a moment.
I’m desperate. I sob.
“Beautiful, and so responsive to me.” He murmurs the praise roughly against my skin. “My perfect girl.”
It’s a blessed relief when he finally reaches down and cups my aching pussy with his big hand. I jolt and lean into him, and the restraint on my wrists, my arms over my head, just makes it hotter.
Then he sits up, towering above me, and brings both hands to my waist.
“Lift your hips for me,” he commands as he undoes my jeans.
I’m so eager, I’m practically panting. My breasts are bared and still wet from his mouth, and I’m not even embarrassed about how big my bottom is because when my hips are angled up, my feet pressed to the bed, he purrs and runs his hands over my curves, his expression—and the huge tent in his trousers—leaving no question about his opinions on my body.
He drags my jeans and knickers off and shoves them aside before looking at me greedily, as though he’d like to feast on my generous thighs and soft belly. I squirm under his gaze.
“So fucking pretty,” he mutters. “Now let me see you properly.”
He grips my ankle, and slowly pushes it to the side. I try to keep my thighs together, awkwardly turning on the bed, and he makes a low sound of disapproval.
“What are you doing?” But it’s obvious. He’ll look right at my pussy, which feels even cruder than having my breasts naked.
“I want you open for me.” His voice is almost harsh.
“But…” Panic flares. I’m blushing. “I can’t…” Can I?
“You will.” There’s no compromise in his expression. The laughter is gone. “You’re mine, and I’m going to spread your legs, then lick you. Then I’ll fuck you.”
“You’re still fully clothed,” I point out. And while his tattooed forearms are even more delicious in real life than on camera, I’d very much like to see more of him.
Surprise flashes across his face, then he nods calmly. “You want to look at what you’re getting?”
My pussy clenches. “Yes. Please.”
“Show me first.” He taps my ankle to show what he means.
I’m trembling, though it’s warm. But I hold Blake’s steady gaze as I pry my legs apart. His eyeline slides to my thighs, then back to my face as I slowly reveal myself to him.
“So lovely,” he murmurs. “You’re glistening with honey. Such a good girl, ready for me to take your virginity and make you mine. You’re perfect.”
His praise removes any part of my brain that was protesting.
“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you. But I’m a man of my word, Bunny.”
He gets off the bed, shrugs off his suit jacket and tugs his shirt over his head, revealing his bare chest and arms. And I cannot breathe because of how beautiful this man is.
Our video chats were intimate, but he’s never undressed like this. I’m familiar with his face and his cock, but the rest of him is even more magnificent.
He’s huge. Broad shoulders. Bulky arms that look like he could pick up a planet. Me? Easily. As he proved. His biceps should have sonnets composed for them. At the very least.
I’d watch the ripple of his muscles under that layer of masculine hair for days.
You could have a dedicated video stream of his forearms. They’re basically porn.
Women everywhere would pay thousands to view him unbutton his cuffs or roll up his sleeves.
His hands are strength and beauty in a combination I’d say was a contradiction if it weren’t for the fact he’s here, in front of me, and my pussy is heating to boiling point looking at him.
Narrow waist and hips, and he has that “V” of muscle that leads my gaze to where he’s slowly undoing his leather belt.
But my attention is dragged back up. Following a trail of black hair over washboard abdominal muscles, and his chest is…
Ugh. I don’t know how to describe him. The ink that’s in a flowing pattern on his skin makes him seem more like a work of art than a man who is here, wanting me.
Who brought out my wildest impulses and desires, and kidnapped me as if he were a king and I’m his lowly servant. At his beck and call.
Then he undoes his leather belt, and drops his trousers and underwear in one efficient move.
And oh. My. God. His cock.
Scale is tricky to establish on camera, but even as arousal surges in me, there’s a spark of fear.
It’s as thick as my wrist. And long. The thought of that thing inside me is seriously intimidating. But the way it springs up has my clit spiking with desire.
He’s scary. The tattoos. The scars. That truncheon between his legs.
But he’s the excitement and risk I’ve been lacking. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want Blake.
His pale-green eyes are intent on me when I manage to stop ogling his muscles. Alright, his cock.
“My little bunny. Do you like what you see?” He has the sort of self-confidence that should make him an arrogant prick, but because he’s that good, it’s justified.
“Yes,” I admit.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Exposed. My pussy…” I’m naked, and spread.
Blake smiles and prowls towards me. “It’s my pussy, now, Bunny.” He cups me possessively between the legs and heat roars over me.
I writhe, testing my bonds, but between him and the cuffs, I can’t move far.
“Whose pussy is this?”
I squeak.
“Whose pussy is this?” he insists.
My whole body responds. I’m tingling.
I shut my eyes. Even the hint of humiliation is extra sparks. “Yours.”
“Look at me.”
“So demanding.” I try to be bratty, but it sounds admiring, and I open my eyes and stare up at him. Naked, glorious.
“You’re going to give me this pussy. I’ll fuck you so well you’ll never want to leave.”
All the air goes from the room. I already want to stay with him. I am head over heels for this man.
“It’s mine now,” he states, low and intense.
Slowly, I nod. Because lying to yourself isn’t healthy.
“Yes,” I whisper, and Blake smiles.
I’m on the kingpin’s bed. Hands cuffed above my head. Totally nude. My legs spread open, my pussy bared.
I can’t move. I’ve never been more exposed. My clit throbs.
And Blake, Blake stands above me, a small smile hitching at the corners of his mouth, and his green eyes roaming over my naked body. But returning to my face every few seconds.
I’m his.
His expression reflects everything I feel.
Joy. Wonder. Lust.
And something I’m terrified might be love.