Page 42 of Take Me

Hands grab me. Hard. I fly back, slamming into a wide chest. My reaction is instant and instinctive. With a wail that tears through the night, I kick back against long legs and shove at a thick arm that bands around my chest. Corded muscles bulge beneath my fingers as I dig into his skin. His torso feels just as strong as I try to push off him. A wall of muscle rippling against my back.

There’s no escaping this man.

I gasp when he whips me around and shoves me against the wide trunk.

Then hands are on my hips, yanking down my pants, ripping the flimsy panties.

I try to turn my head to see who has caught me, but a massive hand pins my head against the trunk. All I see are trees and pale moonlight.

I can’t recognize the hands. They’re too big to belong to Mikhail, too smooth to belong to Dax or Dorin. Yet they seem achingly familiar. But none of the other guards in the basement has ever touched me.

The hands prod at my opening, and I whimper as they slide through my slick lips. I’m always wet at the hands of brutal men. Mikhail did train me well as he promised. Or I’m just fucked-up.

It doesn’t matter. The fingers shove inside, making me buck from the force.

A gentle breeze drifts through the trees, caressing my cheek and bringing me the earthy scent of a cologne with hints of pine.

No, it can’t be.

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale again. It’s the exact same scent that became branded deep into my brain when large hands held me down, took my breath, fucked me brutally, and then caressed me sweetly.

It’s so real. So painfully real.

There’s no fabric covering my head to muddle the scent and induce doubt. And the hands... I suddenly remember with startling clarity. They are his too.Nikolai.The man I’ve dreamed about every day throughout this nightmare. He’s here! I’m not insane.

“Is that you?” I whisper, then imbue my voice with more strength. “Niko—”

A large hand cuts off the word as it presses onto my mouth.

“Shh,” he lulls, shutting off my airflow with a big palm, fingers pinching my nose.

I don’t know what happens. It’s not a conscious choice. It’s something instinctive and reflexive that shuts me down. The urge to submit or maybe the familiar feeling of safety. Maybe the obedience taught at the terrifyingly competent hands of Mikhail. It doesn’t matter.

My body gives in and my brain turns quiet.

“Hmm,” he hums as I sink into him, and he lifts his other hand to caress my temple.

It’s strangely intimate—the stroking and the choking, the safety and the fear. It goes to my head, pulling me deep into a warm, floaty space.

But the peace doesn’t last. It never does.

As the need to breathe intensifies, burning in my lungs, I start twitching. But I still don’t fight. Not until instinct takes over. My reactions are out of my control when my hands fly up to grab the hand over my mouth. My captor releases my nose, just long enough to let me draw in air. Then he clamps my airway shut again, leaving my breath wholly under the control of this mighty man.

My hands fall back down, hanging at my sides. I don’t even struggle when the sound of a belt and a zipper works its way through my brain, or when fingers flick through my pussy.

It’s only when a cock presses against my opening that I snap out of the trance.

Suddenly, I writhe between the trunk and the man. But he simply puts more weight on my back, and I’m left to uselessly flail my hands as he forces his way inside me.

Panic rises, restricting my lungs and dragging whimpers from my throat. But there’s also something else. A hot, urgent pounding. The need to arch back and lose myself to strong hands.

He releases my nose, allowing me another breath before he shuts off my airways again.

Helplessness becomes a cloudy veil over my mind as he sinks into me with a slowness that has me feeling every devastating inch of the intrusion. I don’t control anything. Not my breath, not my body, and not even the throbbing need gathering at my core. I grapple at the bark, seeking purchase through the overwhelming mix of sensations. It’s all I can do.

“Mine,” he growls against my ear, sending a flurry of shivers and butterflies through my system as I recognize the possessive rumble.

Tears spring to my eyes, a moan rising in my throat.

---