Page 41 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Kept

L ater that night, I’m curled up in my bed with one of the new books Jesse gifted me, the candle Bo gave me flickering on the dresser.

It’s been a sweet day since the cupcakes, Bo challenging me to a board game and Jesse singing me a Marilyn Monroe version of Happy Birthday complete with a striptease that left him stalking the house in his boxer briefs for the rest of the day.

He’s…absolutely beautiful. He’s all lean muscle, and there’s a tattoo of Thor that fills his entire chest, lightning strikes stretching down to his hips.

It’s arresting, another piece in the puzzle that makes up the hyper-charismatic flirt.

All I’m saying is, I got it when Bo tugged him away briefly after our board game, probably thinking they were sparing me the P.D.A. after last night.

In all honesty, the two of them look so good together that I found myself imagining it once they were gone. How they might be touching each other, kissing each other. By the time they’d returned there was a hungry emptiness in my stomach that just sort of festered throughout the day.

I missed Noah.

Enough that I eventually sent myself to bed, somehow hurt that he had missed my birthday.

Then, kicked myself for craving the man who’s been very openly using me.

Sure, he cooks for me, and cares for me—and sometimes he looks at me in a way that makes my stomach freefall like I’m a lovesick teenager.

He coaxes out a side of myself that feels like it’s been pushed beneath the surface all my life.

At the same time he did kidnap me, so…that’s a glaring red flag. I’m still living in a room with padlocks on the door and bars on the window.

He’d been very open about the fact that me being here is because they know it will mess with Eric.

Not just emotionally, but when his connections realize I’m missing?

It’s not going to be a good look for him.

They’ll start to cut him off, knowing he’s a risk.

A target for someone with enough guts to mess with his family.

Noah’s keeping me because his hate for Eric burns so strong and…It changes nothing. I can feel myself falling for him a little more each day. I realize it’s not been long that we’ve known each other, but if ever there was a crucible to forge the bond we have, it’s what’s happening in this house.

I jerk awake some time later, the sun having set and the only light coming from the candle on my dresser. My book has slipped to the floor, and Noah’s crouched down to pick it up, his gaze darting up to meet mine when I sit up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He straightens, closing my book.

I look around and there’s a new cardboard box in the corner. “Where have you been?”

“I had to make a trip, it took longer than I thought it would.”

Saying nothing, I take in his appearance as he places my book on the dresser. He looks worn out, his face drawn as if something’s bothering him. It makes me anxious. “Are you okay?”

He turns to me, but doesn’t answer. “Did you have fun today?”

I nod. “It was okay.” I swallow, hesitating before I say anything further. “I, um…I missed you.”

He looks at me with somber eyes and I immediately feel my cheeks heat. I’ve overstepped. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

He eyes the blush creeping up my face. “I got you something.” He turns for the door and very gently picks up the box to carry it back to me. He sets it softly on the bed and I peek up at him before crawling forward to look inside .

Towels cover the bottom to form a makeshift nest and right in the middle sits Molly, curled up in a ball, fast asleep.

My hands shoot to my face, covering my mouth as my eyes sting, my heart racing. “How did you—where did you…” I can’t finish the thought, overwhelmed that she’s here with me now.

He smiles at my reaction and it’s dazzling, placing the box gently on the floor next to my headboard, Molly stretching in her sleep at the slight movement. “I thought you would like having her here, and I had something to do in the area so I thought I’d grab her while I was out.”

I want to ask what that means, what he was really there for. Did he see Eric? Was he sitting at home heartbroken or was he going on with life as usual? But something about having Molly here has my throat tight with the sharpness of my emotion.

It makes it very concrete that I’m here, and I’m likely not going home.

I have a pet, here in this house with Noah, Bo and Jesse.

There’s a permanence to that, to the cat bed I can now see next to her box with the tags still attached.

Like he had stopped on his way home to pick up the things I would need to take care of her.

The tears drop silently, burning on my skin and Noah tracks them as they fall. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry we couldn’t do something more for your birthday. It won’t be like this forever.”

I shake my head. “This is perfect, thank you. I’m so grateful.”

And I mean it. I don’t know what my birthday might look like next year, I don’t know if I’ll be dropped like I’m nothing as soon as he’s done toying with Eric.

I know nothing except that he brought me my cat. He knew it was my birthday and went out of his way to do something that would make me happy.

“I know I’m here for one thing. I get it, really, and I’m not holding that against you,” I sniffle, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “But you could also still be treating me badly and you’re not, so I really am saying thank you. For bringing me Molly.”

He studies me, and once again I know I’ve said too much. I can’t help but wear my heart on my sleeve, or hide how I feel when I look at him. His eyes are unreadable, and there’s a shadow on his face that should turn me away but somehow does the opposite.

Then he releases a heavy breath and walks over to me, the dead look disappearing as it’s taken over by something slightly softer. Hotter .

“Emma, you shouldn’t be grateful for so little, you know that right?” I hear him, but I can’t focus because he’s climbing on top of me and pushing me into the pillow and all I can think is that I’m winning. I’m causing his stoic detached expression to disappear.

Because he wants me.

He settles between my legs, pulling my head to the side to give him access to my neck and my eyes flutter shut, legs spreading to let him nestle between my thighs.

“That’s what got you in this fucking mess,” he murmurs into my neck, his tongue flicking across the little bite he leaves there. “Letting someone give you so little and giving them the entire world in return. Look where that got you. Locked up in a room with me.”

He says it like it’s a threat but I’m so thrilled with where I am right now, with his strong arms caging me in, his hips pinning mine to the bed, that I can barely keep the smile off my face.

“I want to give this to you though,” I say quietly, and feel him freeze, his lips a whisper away from my temple. I tense at his reaction. How many times can I say the wrong thing in one night?

“Give me what, Emma?”

“I want you,” I say, forcing the words out before I can overthink. “I want you. All of you.”

He groans in my ear, his mouth pressing to my face, the stubble scratching at my skin. I love it. His stark maleness, his obvious desire for me. The way he radiates controlled violence but then brushes his thumb along my cheek like he’ll protect me from anything scary in the world.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he says in his husky voice, but he’s already got his hand at my waistband, pulling down my shorts and I know I’ve won.

I help lift my hips so he can pull them down and toss them aside. “I’m sure, I want you,” I repeat.

He curls one of my legs around his waist and I feel his hardness pressed against me.

I look up and lose myself in his heated gaze, which drifts across my face as one of his large hands tangles in my hair.

“Use your words, angel. Say please. Ask me to fuck you and I won’t be strong enough to resist.”

He rolls his hips against me, making me gasp and then sits up on his knees, unzipping his pants, and pulling himself free, his fist going to the base as he looks down at me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

He’s so impossibly attractive it’s unreal, and I can’t stop staring as he looms above me, the sight of him handling himself making it hard to breathe.

He notices my gaze burning on him and smiles, dazzling me again. “Say it, Emma.”

I gulp, my voice shaky. “Please…please f—fuck me,” I say, stumbling over the words.

He groans, latching on to the desperate edge in my voice. I can hear it there, unable to mask the way I need him. It’s uncontrollable, and I’m encouraged by the way his hand strokes himself harder, studying my curves with appreciative eyes . “Fuck, you drive me crazy .”

He lowers again, the playfulness leaving him as he props himself up and looks down between us at where he’s pressed against the white underwear I’m wearing.

His eyes are heavy as he looks up at me and takes my mouth in his, more gentle than I’m used to with him.

He leads me lazily through the kiss, and I moan into his mouth as his tongue traces my lips.

Then I feel his hand at my center, and I gasp, though his touch is not nearly as firm as I need.

“Words, Emma. Remind me what you want.”

“I said please! Please touch me,” I whine, the soft trails driving me insane. I miss his harshness, the way he usually grips me until it hurts.

“Oh, that’s right,” he murmurs, tugging my panties down and I kick them off, his fingers returning to me exactly where I need him. My hips try to lift to get more of his touch, and he laughs softly, looking down at my face. “You’re being a very greedy girl tonight.”

“Quit teasing, I mean it. I need you,” I say and he drops his eyes to my lips.

“Sorry. That wasn’t very nice of me,” he says, pulling his hand away. Adjusting his position, I look down between us and see him notching himself to my entrance, feeling him ready to push inside me.

I peek up, and his eyes are on mine. Mercurial eyes, once again stone sober. “Part of me doesn’t want to ruin you, but a bigger part of me wants to devour you whole.”

“Compromise. Just for tonight. Let me feel what it’s like to have you like this. The side of you that doesn’t want to destroy me.”

Another shadow crosses his face. “I don’t want to destroy you, baby. I want to own you, all of you. Even your dignity, Emma. That belongs to me too.”

I wiggle my hips against him, seeking that friction.

“Say it one more time.”

This time it’s my turn to nip, and I bite his jaw sharp enough to make him hiss. “Fuck me, please.”

He thrusts inside me with a growl and a jagged cry cuts from my throat against his ear. My hands cling to the back of his neck with a death grip. He feels so big inside me that the intrusion steals the air from my lungs. He moans in my ear, his hand cradling my head to that crook in his shoulder.

“Fuck, baby, you’re perfect.”

Why am I crying? The moment is heavy with meaning for me, and a few tears escape as I feel him throbbing inside me, pausing a moment to let me adjust to him. Then he slowly starts to move, and the feeling is so intense that my muscles clench around him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he says, tongue darting out to lick up my tears and I nod my head. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, Emma.” His words are as ragged as his quiet breath and I rejoice at the evidence of his need for me.

He hikes my thigh up higher around his waist and my head drops back as he starts to move at a faster pace, his other hand pushing up on my shirt so that my chest is revealed, and his mouth dips to my nipple.

My fingers claw into his back, my back arching up into his mouth and he smiles at my neediness, biting down gently before sucking harshly.

I look down, desperate to see the way he looks sliding inside me, helpless against the electricity that’s mainlining its way through my veins. It’s an intense feeling that’s building inside me, I’m not sure how to brace myself against the strength of it. I throw my head back, seeking his eyes.

“Oh my god,” I whimper, his eyes taking in my expression and darkening.

“Words, Emma.”

“You feel so good. I can’t take this feeling, it’s too much,” I say, stomach tightening against the onslaught of sensation.

He raises to his knees, adjusting his grip on my hips so he can thrust back into me at a quicker pace, the angle making my eyes roll. “It’s never too much, you need to take what you’re given.”

The sounds I’m making are nonsensical. Maybe it’s his name and maybe I’m begging for more. He absorbs my words, eyes burning across me fisting the sheets, and pushes my legs back so that my knees are to my chest and he’s deeper than I could imagine him going.

“Noah, please, please.”

“Please what, Emma?” he asks, but I hear a shaking in his voice and I love it.

“I’m going to come, please, right there—” My voice breaks at the end, the wave inside me rising up like a tsunami and my mouth opens in a silent scream as the explosion crests and spreads through me, every muscle tightening.

My eyes squeeze shut, and I feel Noah’s grip on my shoulders as he slams impossibly farther into me one final time, then him pulsing inside me as my body grips him.

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m gasping for air by the time it recedes, my body lax and shaky. He hovers over me, having fallen to his arms on the bed, and I feel his breath on my neck, his hair tickling my forehead .

I curl a hand around the back of his neck, the knowledge that it’s over seeping into my brain while my heart is desperate to extend this moment. “Stay?” I ask.

He says nothing for a moment, then I feel his mouth brush gently across my forehead. “Sleep, angel.” His voice is deep, calming.

I sink into my exhaustion, and when I shake awake a little while later, I’m alone in bed.