Falcon's Captive. Vonna Harper
and a secret place where those legs joined. One moment stretched into another as he stared at the soft curl of dark hair standing guard over her woman’s place. He’d soon have access to it and wouldn’t turn her over to the others until he’d rewarded himself for having captured her.
His cock, which he’d been struggling to ignore while taking his measure of her, tightened. Wanting to gauge her response, he adjusted himself under his loincloth. Clenching her teeth, she shook her head.
“Yes,” he countered. “I will have you. When and how I want.”
“Unless I kill you first.”
“You, kill me? With what, your weapons?” He punctuated his sarcasm by sweeping his gaze over her nude form. “Where have you hidden them?”
She didn’t answer, and something in her expression made him wonder if she wasn’t certain what she was doing here alone wearing nothing. Maybe she was even more animal-like than he assumed.
The wind had picked up. It brushed morning cool and sharp over his still-wet skin, causing him to shiver. Certain she must be even more uncomfortable, he studied her, but she gave no sign of being cold.
Damnation, he didn’t understand her!
And what he didn’t understand, he didn’t trust.
Determined to make sure his captive realized how profoundly her life had changed and how much power he wielded, he held up the rope for her to see.
“No.” She scooted back a little.
“No?” he taunted. “How are you going to stop me, slave? How?”
“Do not call me—”
“I’ll call you what I want,” he said as he stood up. Not sure how to best restrain her legs, he loomed over her. If she was afraid, she gave no indication. “Because you belong to me.” For a while.
“No,” she repeated albeit not as forcefully as the first time. “I will never—”
Just then a shadow passed over her face, and she glanced upward. Prompted by the change in her expression, he did the same. A bird, maybe the same one that had alerted him to her location in the lake, drifted overhead.
She muttered something that was either nonsense or in a language he’d never heard, and although he wanted to see what the bird might do, his attention was drawn back to her. The sharpness was gone from her features, replaced by a softness, a love even. Although he longed to know what was responsible for the change, he resented the notion that she wasn’t thinking about him.
Anger driving him, he straddled her so his body was between her and the damnable bird. In the space of a single blink, the softness in her died, replaced by a warrior’s courage and determination.
“No!”
He sank down on top of her until her hips were under his buttocks.
She tried to buck him off, prompting him to press down even more. She continued to struggle. The way her elbows were positioned worked to his advantage because she couldn’t easily turn onto her side. Unfortunately, her flailing legs were behind him and out of reach.
He’d been right. She was strong. Even more important, she impressed him as determined but not desperate. He would have understood terror. All the captives he’d ever seen had been frightened out of their minds, begging and crying, pleading to their gods and spirits to save them—not that begging had ever changed anything. Instead, she seemed to be drawing on her own inner resources, resources that comforted and assured her even in the face of helplessness.
Something gathered inside him, a coming together of his resolve. He was determined to win this one-sided battle, not just because losing was incomprehensible, but because victory led to fucking.
Foreshadowing nothing of his intentions, he leaned to the side and then off her. Instead of letting himself fall, he pushed off the ground, grabbed her sharply bent elbows, and yanked her up and around so she was now on her belly. When she started to turn her head to the side, he grabbed a handful of hair and pull upward, forcing her to arch her back.
Although she tried to jerk free, she put little strength behind the effort, proof that she had no intention of risking having her hair pulled out. When she stopped struggling, he drew her upper body even farther off the ground so her breasts now hung down. The lines and curves of her taut body fascinated him. He longed to cup her breasts, to kneed and tease her nipples back into hardness. At the same time, he imagined stroking her buttocks until she moaned and went limp. He’d run his fingers lightly over the lush flesh while slowly closing in on her ass crack. Not caring how long it took, he’d caress and stroke, teaching and learning at the same time. Eventually her legs would part in primitive invitation and he’d slide a finger into her.
She’d begin to belong to him, only him.
However, instead of sighing in contentment as he’d fantasized, she breathed raggedly, coughing at the end. Realizing he was compromising her breathing, he released her hair. After lowering her head a bit, she turned her head to the side, then rested her cheek on the dirt. That done, she stared up at him. As before, he sensed no surrender in her. Quite the contrary, he had no doubt that she was gathering her strength as she waited for him to make the next move.
A worthy opponent. Maybe that’s why claiming her intrigued him so.
He’d dropped the rope while positioning her on her belly. Now he made no secret of what he was doing when he picked it up again. Mentally calling himself a bastard for teasing her, he trailed the rope over the backs of her thighs and then up and along the rounded buttocks he could hardly wait to get his hands on. She’d started when the end first touched her. Then, every line of her body tense, she’d lain there and taken it.
Only he couldn’t believe “taken it” adequately described what she was feeling.
“This is what’s ahead of you,” he told her. “My touching you every way I want to, whenever I want. Reminding you what it is to be a woman and being unable to shut down that part of yourself.” Teaching you how dependent you are on me.
If she understood what he was hinting at, her eyes didn’t give it away. Thinking to distract her from what he had in mind, he patted her shoulder. “Such a healthy specimen. A little on the skinny side, but your breasts make up for a lot.”
She continued to glare at him. As he was trying to decide what, if anything, to say next, a now-familiar shadow again darkened her features. Eyes wide and nostrils flared, she strained to look beyond him and into the sky.
Seizing the opportunity, he climbed back on top of her but faced her feet this time. She again bucked under him, her fierce movements stirring a cock that didn’t need any more stimulation. Fashioning a loop in the rope took longer than it should have because he had to fight to keep from being unseated. But by the spirits he loved her fight!
When she bent a knee in an attempt to kick him, he tried to snake the rope around her ankle. However, she yanked free before he could tie a knot. In addition to trying to wiggle out from under him, she thrashed from side to side. Her every movement registered throughout him. This was battle, war, strength against strength with the winner claiming everything.
He refused to lose.
Sweat slickened the feminine flesh under him, and he felt the effort every time she took a breath. He half believed he heard her heart beating. He could do this forever, certainly longer than she could. He’d ride her and ride her until she exhausted herself. Then, not for a moment letting her forget how helpless she was, he’d explore every part of her body. And he’d keep his sexual heat under control, somehow.
And he’d exploit hers.
Turn her into his possession.
His forehead pulsed, nearly screamed. His entire body felt as if it belonged to a savage beast. A determined beast.
Growling, he leaned forward and forced the loop over her foot. Then he quickly tied a single knot. Convinced she couldn’t