Page 12 of Capture (Primal #3)

I couldn’t get her off my mind. A seed was planted in my brain that rapidly grew into a twisting, encompassing vine that invaded every space inside my head.

Everywhere I looked, I saw her. Her scent infiltrated my senses, and it didn’t matter where I went or what I did; I could smell her perfume.

A sweet residue was left on my shirt, pants, hair, and skin, poisoning my mind and weakening my self-control.

She was plaguing my mind as I drove to Gotland. I heard her name spoken on the breeze and saw her face on the screen of my phone as a call came in from the Russians to inform me that they had Gunner and wanted to make a deal for his freedom.

My head was on the game while the Russian spoke to me, yet as soon as the call ended, I hungered to return to her. The plan was working. They had Gunner and were unlikely to hurt him if they knew what was good for them. But we had the upper hand.

The first stage was complete, and all I had to do was return to the club to wait for Ronan to provide the coordinates of where they were hiding Gunner, which was likely also to be their headquarters. Hopefully.

I put my foot to the floor to get back to her because, for some fucking reason, that little liar had gotten my skin.

Maybe it was because I hadn’t had sex in years, stuck in that fucking prison, or perhaps it was something else about her, something that was difficult to put into words.

That same indescribable thing that captivated Gunner’s feckless ass and toppled Ronan’s commonsense.

It was mid-afternoon by the time I arrived back, and the Red Velvet rooms were open for business as well as the bar and dining room, but not the casino.

The usual reliable staff were there, which reminded me that I needed to give some of them a raise.

I spotted Betty’s jet-black ponytail swinging as she vanished into her office, pretending she didn’t see me.

That’s fine. I’ll deal with her later, once Danny digs up some incriminating evidence on her.

It was wise not to act until I had plenty of dirt to use against her.

My crotch was leading me, and even if I closed my eyes, my half-hard cock would take me to her room. I was a man with a purpose, a freight train bulldozing through obstacles to get to her, and I knew she would respond to my touch like she did last time.

I arrived at the door into the private lounge and pushed it open, descending on her as she lay there alone, wet and eager for my cock. The look in her eyes when I kissed her soft, sweet lips, and the way her body latched onto me, hungry for more.

I ran up the stairs as my heart pounded and my cock pressed against my zip. The key to her room was burning in my pocket, and as I reached for it, I heard her shuffling inside, which only added to my horniness.

The door swung open, and I ignored the disappointment that washed across her face as if she were someone else. Gunner and Ronan were not going to be coming in here for a while, little miss. Get them out of your head. That initial reaction only fueled my passion to fuck her into next week.

“Take off your jeans,” I told her as I started unzipping my throbbing cock that was already dripping pre-cum because I was so fucking eager to get between her legs.

She was stunned. Lips parted, eyes staring with wide eyes, no need to wear glasses anymore because the mask was ripped from her pretty face, and all that was left was Annika laid bare.

“Now,” I asserted in a stern voice, and her trembling hands immediately moved to her pussy as she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper.

By the quickness of her movements pushing her jeans down her thighs, she wanted this too, but my patience was running thin.

I gripped her jeans by the crotch and dragged them off her as she squealed, her terrified eyes flicking to the door.

Again, it was as if she was expecting someone else to be there, and that enraged me.

“They’re not coming,” I snarled at her.

She swallowed, then fixed her frightened gaze on my face again. “You know?”

That was an odd question to ask, and I wasn’t in the mood to answer it. I leaned forward, placing my hands on the bed on either side of her, and her lips parted as if she was expecting me to kiss her. Now I had her full attention.

My teeth clenched, causing a sting of pain in my jaw.

Instead of kissing her, which was what she expected and wanted, I held my angry face two inches away from hers and fixed my gaze onto those eyes.

Her fear was the gas that stoked my machine.

“Your mind, body, and soul are mine until I’m done with you. Do you understand?”

A sweet little sigh escaped her lips, and she lifted her mouth for me to claim her. Still with that look of disappointment raw in my mind, I seized her face in my hands and glared at her.

“Do you understand?” I proposed again.

She nodded her dark head.

“You are mine until I’m done with you, so get the other two out of your head,” I demanded, but was a little perplexed by the confusion in her eyes.

She swallowed, then nodded again.

“Good girl,” I hissed as I ran the back of my fist along her soft cheek. It had been far too long since I felt anything so smooth and beautiful.

As I let go of her face, still locked in a gaze, something warm softly grabbed my hard bulge as fear vanished from her blue eyes, replaced with mischievousness.

“Your eyes weren’t blue before?” I suddenly realized, probably because I didn’t look at her that much. But now, I saw it—the light in those pretty eyes.

“I wore colored contacts,” she informed me.

“Ah, the terrible disguise,” I grunted as her hand climbed inside my briefs and clasped my hard as a fucking rock cock.

“Seemed to work with you,” she argued as her hand worked me faster.

“Only because I didn’t remember you back then when you…” I stopped talking because finishing that sentence seemed wrong.

Her eyebrows cocked. “When I was a kid. Was that what you intended to say? You don’t remember me from when I was a kid? I was sixteen.”

She seemed surprised, but what did she expect? She was Lars' foster kid. Why would I take any notice of her? Kids were more of an annoyance that got in the way of our objectives.

“Sixteen is still a kid,” I murmured.

I was fixated on those plump lips moving as she spoke, as I imagined them wrapped around my cock. As her hand rubbed faster over my length, I claimed her mouth and kissed her hard, before pulling away and standing over her again.

She knew exactly what to do. Like a good girl, she took my cock in her mouth as I twirled a clump of her dark hair around my hand like rope, pushing her head into me.

My head fell backwards as I let out an elated gasp while my hips rolled, loving her soft, warm mouth moving up and down, rose lips clamped down.

Three years. Three fucking years since I had a woman suck me off.

It seemed fitting that the first girl I chose to take my cock in every hole when I got out of prison was the girl who put me in there.

Weirdly, that seemed like the perfect equation and the ultimate discipline for her to be my slave. “Slave,” I whispered. “My fucking slave. You owe me. You fucking owe me.”

My cock was filling every space in her mouth, so she was unable to respond, and I didn’t care what she had to say anyway.

“I'm going to keep you in here as my fucking pet,” I growled, closing my eyes and sinking into the zone. “My fucking pet slave. You’ll find your freedom only when I’m done with you, then I’ll toss you out.”

I tightened my grip on her hair, pushing my cock deeper and holding it there, and when the choking noises came, I went a little further before pulling out altogether.

Her eyes widened in shock as her hand went to her throat, and she coughed a little. A slice of sympathy coiled in my stomach, but I quickly ignored it when I remembered the smell in the prison cell when an inmate vomited or pissed in the corner, or some other revolting act.

My cock was dripping in her saliva and my pre-cum, a hard rod glistening and hungry.

“Turn over onto your stomach,” I demanded, eager to finish inside of her.

She hesitated as the fear returned to her sky-blue eyes, and I knew she didn’t trust me with her back turned. Even though I didn’t blame her for hesitating, I wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation about her feelings. The feelings and emotions of a liar were irrelevant to me.

“Don’t hurt me,” she breathed as her words were caught in her throat.

“Hurt you? I’m gonna fuck you hard. Whether my cock hurts you is your problem,” I snarled. “Now roll over onto your stomach.”

“Where are you going to put it?” she asked, still unmoving, infuriating me.

Then I realized she was concerned that I was going to slide into her tight hole.

That thought had crossed my mind, but I wanted her warm, wet pussy because it’d been three years since my cock had been in one.

And it was her pussy that I wanted. Not a high-class prostitute, or a random from Tinder, but this blue-eyed liar before me.

“In your pussy,” I told her sternly, raising my voice as a door slammed down the hall. Paying clients received the best treatment possible, while I had my slave imprisoned under their noses.

She exhaled, brushed her hair back, then did as I ordered, turning over onto her stomach. “I haven’t had anyone in my anus,” she told me.

“I need special lube for that,” I educated her, surprised that Gunner hadn’t gone there. “I want my enemy’s pussy.”

“Your enemy?” she questioned, speaking into her pillow.

“We’re not friends, are we?” I hissed at her, but her cute ass cheeks looking up at me chilled my anger—a perfect little mound of flawless flesh.

To tease her, I leaned over and slid my cock between her butt cheeks as she cried out, “I thought you weren’t going to do that.”

“I’m not. Hush. No talking. I don’t want to hear the little liar’s voice when I’m fucking her,” I stated as I rolled my hips, moving faster between her butt cheeks as the tip of my cock was shiny with my pre-cum.

I slipped my hands under her hips to tug her bottom half off the bed, and she naturally bent her knees, which was what I wanted. That sweet ass was beckoning, and I pushed my length into her sodden pussy in one go, extracting a gasp from her mouth buried into her pillow.

Her pussy clamped down around my cock, urging me to thrust in deep, then pull out in long, slow movements.

Her butt pushed against my balls as cute sighs and moans sailed into the air, as the knuckles on her hands turned white as she gripped her pillow.

Cheek pressed into her pillow, mouth parted, body jolted with every powerful thrust.

Pulling out almost all the way again, then slowly slamming my cock hard into her soaking core. Then again. Pulling out most of the way before drilling back into her body.

It felt like fucking heaven. She felt like fucking heaven.

After a few more times at this agonizingly slow pace of long strokes and forceful plunges where moans and soft sighs exuded the room, I increased my pace.

Reaching for her hair and twisting it around my hand, my hips fell into short, quick thrusts, pummeling that ass: slap, slap, slap.

“I’m coming,” she announced, and I was taken aback. I had no interest in my enemy’s pleasure because all I cared about was me getting off and finishing.

I was about to growl, ‘I don’t care,’ but the words refused to leave my throat.

Something changed in me as her sighs increased in lustful mouthfuls and her butt kept pressing against me, wanting more, desiring more.

As my pace increased even more, her hands gripped the pillow tighter, and screams became louder, stimulating my horniness.

“Oh my god, I’m coming,” she squealed, and I kept slapping my cock in her, driving me down deeper to reach for a greater impact when she came.

But I thought I didn’t care if she came.

Just as she climaxed, I pulled her head back gently by her dark hair, and a delicious shudder rippled through her taut body, striking my cock as she clamped down hard, and I let out a loud, elongated grunt.

I emptied inside her as she released.

She exhaled and lay still as I pulled out of her, suddenly feeling strange that I enjoyed pleasuring her. I enjoyed the little liar's orgasm over my cock, and her pleasure became my priority in the end.

As she lay there, naked from the waist down, I tucked my half-limp cock away, ignoring the guilt stirring my stomach.

In silence, I zipped up, adjusted my clothing, and turned my back on her. When I looked back, about to leave, she was still lying there, spent.

I liked doing that to her. I liked that I fucked her into exhaustion and she peeked, hitting the ceiling, then landed with a thud.

My fingers combed through my hair, conflicted as I opened the door with my other hand. I wanted to leave her like that, damaged and in recovery, but I couldn’t leave her like that.

“Are you alright?” I finally asked her as a couple next door were fucking, and the bed head was banging against the wall. Note to self to get that sorted.

Her dark head nodded as she slowly rolled over onto her back. Before I knew it, I was at the edge of the bed, covering her half-naked body with the blankets.

“Thanks,” she mumbled into the pillow without glancing up at me.

I left and locked the door as an odd cocktail of unwanted emotions thundered through my body. Guilt and satisfaction. I owed her nothing. Why did I have to be guilty of? The satisfaction and surprise were how much I enjoyed pleasuring her, even though that wasn’t my objective.

The guilt shredding my insides into tiny pieces, I’ll deal with it another time. But the gratification and the pleasure will lure me back to her room.