Page 16 of Primal

I open my mouth to snap back, but he goes to open one of my dresser drawers and pulls something out. He then goes to another drawer, pulls out a cloth, and walks into the bathroom. I hear the water run for a few seconds before he comes back to the bed and crouches next to me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, alarmed, as he grabs my hips, slides my panties to the side to uncover my clit, and turns me to face him. When he spreads my legs as far as they’ll go, a darkness shrouds his eyes as he looks over my heated sex.

“I need to taste you again,” he mumbles so quietly I barely hear him. I try to squeeze my legs closed, but he pushes them until my knees are resting against my breasts, lifts the mask, and runs his tongue over my throbbing clit. My arms give out as I fall back onto the mattress. I reach out to grab at his hair instinctively, but all I feel is the rough fabric of his mask.

“Take it off,” I plead breathlessly.

“Not a chance, baby,” he says playfully.

I’m disappointed, but the feeling quickly abates when he covers my pussy with his mouth and sucks me in. I cry out and arch my back from the immense pleasure he’s giving me. He presses his fingertips so painfully into the soft flesh of my thighs that I know they’ll be bruised tomorrow, but I don’t even care. I revel in the pain.

The thought of being marked by him makes me even wetter. My fingernails dig painfully into my palms as I grip the sheet. He licks and sucks until my screams of pleasure echo off the walls. I grind my hips against his tongue as I ride out my orgasm. My teeth chatter as my body trembles from having my second orgasm of the night.

After licking my release from his lips, he uses the damp cloth to clean me up. I come back down from the post-climax high when he opens my closet door and tosses the cloth into the dirty clothes hamper like he’s been here a million times before.

The realization that he most likely has been in here more times than I thought sits heavy within me.

“How many times have you been here?” I ask him, but he ignores the question as he comes back to the bed.

Tossing me a skimpy pair of shorts that barely cover my ass, the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile when he says, “Put this on. We’re going for a ride.”

CHAPTER 15

KIARA

After a few minutes of trying to fight him off, he shoves me into the passenger seat of his beat-up truck—the same one I saw speeding away from my house weeks ago—at gunpoint. I try to open the door, but it won’t budge, and the window won’t roll down, either.

Oh my God—he’s going to fucking kill me. Who will take care of Grandma when I’m gone?

Panic begins to creep up in me, fast and hard. “Let me out,” I plead breathlessly as he gets into the driver’s side, lurching across his body to open the door. He grabs me roughly by the arm and pushes me back into the seat.

“That’s enough, Kiara,” he says with deadly calm, those dark blue eyes boring through me.

“Please,” I whisper, tears burning my eyes. “Please let me go. My grandma can’t live without me.”

This is too much. The idea of being robbed makes me feral, and everything the two of us have done has been constantly replaying in my mind for weeks, but realizing I might actually die tonight is too much for me to bear.

The thought of death doesn’t scare me as much as the knowledge that Grandma will be here all alone until her heart finally gives out.

My captor says nothing else as he pulls out of my driveway. I turn around in my seat and look out the back window, silent tears wracking my body the further away we drive until we’ve left the street. I try to take deep, calming breaths to keep from screaming, but my entire being is jittery with anticipation.

We ride in complete silence, the air thick with tension. Since it’s so late, there aren’t any other cars on the road, so I can’t signal for help.

Not usually one for observation, I make a mental note of every turn we make, every street sign and landmark we pass.

About thirty minutes later, we’ve driven so far from my house that I don’t recognize where we are. We haven’t been in the city for the past ten minutes, and when my captor pulls into a clearing, my stomach drops.

This is where I’m going to die.

In the distance, I see nothing but the foreboding darkness of a forest.

“Don’t,” I whisper as he gets out of the truck. I quickly lock my door, then I jump into the driver’s seat and lock that, too. When I spot the keys he left in the ignition, I want to cry from happiness, but when I realize the truck is a manual transmission, my heart sinks.

He taps on the window, and when I look at him, I can see the satisfaction in his eyes.

My mom had been wanting to teach me how to drive stick since I was old enough, but I never had any interest.

“What if you’re kidnapped?” she’d ask. “How would you escape if they drove a stick shift?”

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