Page 43 of Kidnapped Plus-Size Mate

Honored to receive that gift, I drop my head at the crevice of her neck and sigh. I begin to languidly thrust, only quickening the pace when she rocks her hips, and I’m certain that she’s comfortable enough to take a good pounding.

“Please…” she mewls as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Please, Stryker…”

She’s begging with tears sprouting from her eyes, desperately wanting me to fuck her harder. I comply willingly,craving the friction and needing to fill her with my seed as each thrust takes us further toward the height of our unity.

Grabbing her hips, I pull her onto my lap as I sit upright, bucking my hips up into her as I guide her to ride my cock. I crush her lips, drinking in her moans as her walls tighten and milk me into coming deep inside her. The floodgates of her climax open, and warmth spreads over my cock as she moans and comes all over me.

I release her lips, our foreheads connecting as our breaths come out in hot pants, mingling in the air between our faces. She giggles, her eyelids growing heavy, and I gently lay her back down before pulling her into a spoon and allowing her to drift off into sleep. In my arms, where she’s the most protected, she sighs contentedly, permitting me to follow.

Chapter 14 - Camilla

Those two dark figures visit me again, in the sanctity of a dream I thought would remain sweet and picturesque after what happened between Stryker and me before I fell asleep.

This time, their blackened forms stand before me, stepping aside to reveal the dragon that comes flying forward, shifting into Stryker’s human form as he drops to his knees in submission before them.

No.

This can’t be happening.

Why is he willingly giving himself up to the dark figures?

As soon as he hangs his blonde head, I feel myself able to move again. Unfrozen from the shock I felt before, I take a step forward and feel the fear I’d previously been hanging on to dissipate.

One of the dark figures turns its head to me, the empty void behind the hood morphing into a face that’s familiar even if I haven’t seen it before. Straining my gaze, I watch as it removes its hood to reveal its face.

“Abuela…?” I gasp, but the woman smiles and gently shakes her head.

“No, child,” she responds, her accent thick and her voice as powerful as it is delicate. “But I share your blood.” The woman reaches between the folds of her black cloak, then produces a serrated blade and holds it out to me. “This is your destiny…”

There it is again - that one word that sounded freakishly sinister before. Now, it’s the weapon the woman holds out to me that has fear crawling up my spine. I look down to inspectthe knife, noticing the engraving on the wooden handle and frowning.

I’ve seen that symbol before. It’s the pendant of the crescent moon and a shooting star that Abuela wears around her neck.

***

That’s when I wake with a start, groaning when I feel my head pounding as soon as I’m out of the strange dream.

I glance to the side and find Stryker sound asleep beside me. His face is angelic, sending a pang of guilt through me for what I witnessed in the dream. He appeared so vulnerable, hanging his head as if he was about to give up his life.

I do not know what any of it means, but I know that it’s tied to my grandmother. Maybe that’s why she had an instinctive feeling that I’d be captured by the fire breathing dragon. But why was the woman in my dream passing me a knife as if I was being offered the chance to take the dragon's life?

What did she mean that she shares my blood? An instinctive knowing has me suspecting that I was visited by my ancestor, who was passing me a torch in the form of a knife that bore the same symbol my grandmother wears as a pendant around her neck. How is everything linked? At the same time, the pieces of this puzzle don’t have a clear-cut picture.

I have to figure out what it means to have these recurring dreams that somehow tie into the supposed fate of being the dragon shifter’s mate.

Pressing my lips into a firm line as I stare at Stryker’s sleeping face, the tingling between my thighs stirs up thememory of our passionate tryst last night. Heat fills my cheeks, but the unruly shiver that runs through my spine signals my confusion about my strange dreams.

I already know what I’m meant to be to the dragon shifter. His mate. But why does it feel like I’m supposed to be afraid of him, wary, and unwilling to accept his claims that this is fate?

I need to speak to my grandmother, but I know he won’t let me go back. I no longer feel like a prisoner, having given my body willingly to my captor. But I still don’t know if I can trust him. Are my dreams telling me that I shouldn’t? Or is it just a confirmation that I am his fated mate?

Is that why I keep hearing the word “destiny” ring out?

Slowly sliding out from Stryker’s arm, being careful not to make any sudden movements that might wake him, I slip on a gown and quietly steal to the bedroom door.

It’s been more than a week since I arrived, and I haven’t left the bedroom I’d been imprisoned in. Even when Stryker stopped locking me inside, I’d been too afraid to see what was outside the door.

Now that I’m determined to make sense of my dreams and find the answers I’m searching for, I finally dare to walk out the bedroom door. Crossing the threshold into the unknown feels like I’m breaking through some imaginary veil, stepping into a larger embrace of luxury between the walls of a gorgeous hallway.

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