Captive Heroes (18 page)

Ignoring the crackling thunder and flashes of silver lightning that continued to blaze past the windows, Kayla set to work.

* * * * *

Taylor awoke to the sweetest sound he’d ever heard in his life. A woman singing. Instinctively he knew it was Kayla. Although not the sweetest voice, it was on the top of his list with her moans and whimpers of sexual arousal when he fucked her.

The fever that had seared through him had disappeared and he could think clearly. He was weak, tired, but that would go away with nourishment.

Turning his head, he found her sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace. Her back was to the fire and she looked absolutely beautiful, smudges of gray dirt smeared over her cheeks. Her hair appeared damp and tangled, as if she’d been out in the storm—which was still going strong. A grimace marred her pretty face and it was in direct contrast to her singing.

His gaze dropped to where she held something in her hands.

The crack of a fish neck split the air.

“Let…me…guess. Not spiders?” His voice was raspy but, to his surprise, strong.

Her head snapped up and relief swept away her marred frown. She’d been worried about him and, as she smiled, warmth splashed through his entire being. It was good to have this female smiling at him.

“Adding fish to that spider broth. You’re looking better. How are we feeling?”

We? As in the two of them somehow united? A sudden sadness shot through him. He could not be united with a female. It wasn’t permitted by any law.

He struggled to fight the hope and warmth of having her all for himself, but it curled around him nonetheless. He was a coward, giving in to it. Weak. A stupid male. But he enjoyed looking at this beautiful female. His cock swelled.

“I’m hungry…but not for spiders and fish heads.”

A sweet pink blush swept across her cheekbones. Suddenly he could not wait until he was well enough to scoop her into his arms and press his mouth against hers. His cock hardened so violently he couldn’t stop himself from moaning.

She wrinkled her forehead with concern. “Are you in pain?”

Yes, pain for you,
he wanted to say, but did not. Instead he dropped his gaze to examine his wound. It appeared red and puffy and…something else.

“You stitched the wound?” When had she done that? Surely he would have experienced some pain. But then images flashed. Intense heat. Soothing, cool touches upon his burning flesh. Pain ravishing his side, tormenting him, keeping him weak and confused.

He remembered struggling from the darkness holding him captive. Remembered slipping into a red haze and Kayla hovering over him, her face contorted with worry as she helped him with the intimate duty of relieving himself.

“How long?”

“Two nights and two days. We’re going into the third night.”

And the storms still raged outside. He wasn’t surprised. The storms would stay several more days. It was the season. Then the storms would subside for a few days. Then they would return.

She turned around and stood. Bending over the fire, she ladled some soup into a large wooden bowl. A bowl he had carved out of a nearby tree. His friend Jarod had made the cups and eating utensils.

He gazed upon her buttocks and had an irresistible urge to smooth his hands over her curvy ass cheeks, to push them apart, spreading her open for him.

Blood raced through his veins with an urgent need. He couldn’t wait to have her cool fingers on his body again. Wanted the hot rush of pleasure slamming through his cock and balls when he took her in the ass.

Had she ever been taken like that before? He would need to prepare her. Just thinking of taking her in that intimate way made his cock writhe and harden like a serpent ready to strike.

“Here you are,” she said cheerfully as she sat down on the side of his cot with the bowl. She grimaced at the gray liquid and he laughed. She threw him a wry smirk as she scooped some liquid onto the spoon and guided it toward his mouth.

“
Bon appetit
,” she whispered.

“I would not dream of eating before a woman has first satisfied herself.”

Pink swept across her cheeks again. She had understood his double meaning.

“Sorry, but there is not enough to go around,” she answered after a moment.

Taylor frowned. He’d been trained to let a woman eat before he was allowed anything. It was a hard habit to break.

“When did you last eat?” he questioned, ignoring the spoon she held close to his lips.

“I cooked up some fish last night, over the fire. There was a short break in the storm, so I took one of those funny-looking spears you have by the door and speared several big fish in the river. I also helped myself to some of those dried berries you have on the shelf.”

Pride hugged her face and he could not help but smile inwardly.

“I would have caught more,” she said, “but the storms came back so quickly. And the lightning is so intense it was too dangerous to stay out there.”

“You are a wise female. Everybody knows to stay indoors during the time of the storms. The forks of silver come out of the sky and kill without warning. You were very lucky.”

She shivered visibly and he was glad she feared the storms. She would not venture out again. The thought of losing her did not bode well. Not well indeed.

“Open your mouth. The sooner I get this into you, the sooner you can get stronger.” Her eyes flashed and the pink in her cheeks deepened.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy preparing her. He’d rarely seen a female blush. When they came to him, most were already well-versed in sex. On occasion he had the opportunity to bed a virgin, but those occasions had been rare. Females in the hubs tended to initiate sex with the virgins before allowing them access to males.

“Come on, open,” she prodded.

He did as instructed and let the hot liquid melt over his tongue. He fought back a grimace at the earthy flavor.

“It doesn’t taste good, does it?” She chuckled.

“Doesn’t taste too bad,” he admitted after swallowing.

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

She frowned and wiped a stray strand of fluffy hair from her face. “I’m not much for culinary skills.”

“You were never taught?”

Her eyes brightened. Yes, she had fond memories of something to do with cooking. “Oh I was taught. I just make a mess of things. I’m all thumbs. Open.”

Taylor accepted the broth, trying hard to ignore a straggly spider as it slipped down his throat. Usually the spiders were squashed before adding them to the soup. It was why he and Jarod tolerated so many of them in this shelter. They were very nourishing.

“You do not look all thumbs to me,” he whispered. Reaching up, he softly held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. She smiled nervously.

“You are female. All curves. Soft and delicate. I apologize for everything I have put you through. I did not wish for you to be concerned for me.”

To his surprise, tears welled in her eyes. She
had
been deeply traumatized at what had happened to him.

Some unnamed emotion, thick and raw, clogged his throat.

He cleared it and opened his mouth as she brought another spoonful to his lips. But he didn’t let go of her chin. Instead, he moved his thumb over the softness of her lips. Oh how sweet she would taste when he took her mouth with his.

In his training, he was not permitted to kiss without being told. He hadn’t been permitted to do anything unless instructed by a female. For the longest time this had been the norm—only acceptable to do whatever a female instructed him to do.

The times he was taken to Brothel Town and his leg chained so he could not leave, it was normal to spend days servicing the females who came to the room. Because he was never allowed a dominant sexual position upon a female, he never dared.

The dark fantasies were there though. Deep in the back of his mind, he dreamed of taking a female from behind while she bent over.

When he had seen her standing in the river days ago, her back to him, her body tight with tension and arousal due to being affected by the swamp water, his self-control had disintegrated.

There were other fantasies too. Ones he wished to experience with her. His cock and balls grew harder beneath the blankets. Very hard.

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?” she whispered, breaking his gaze and pulling away. She’d given him the entire contents of the bowl and he was very sleepy.

“The rain will wash away any tracks,” he muttered.

His eyelids grew heavier as she opened the door and placed the dish and spoon outside. The rain was coming down in silvery sheets and confidence poured through him as he remembered how he and Jarod had spent days collecting rocks as a solid base for this shelter. The building would stay dry even if they received a month of steady rain.

“I mean, does anyone else know about this place besides you?”

“Only Jarod. He is a good friend. Trustworthy.”

She nodded, but something still troubled her.

“What is it?”

“Never mind, it’s nothing.”

The sleepiness clawed at him, begging him to succumb. He fought it, but his efforts did not work.

“Do not worry, my female…I will protect…you…with my…life.”

His eyes fluttered shut and before he drifted into peaceful black, she whispered she would protect him with her life also.

Do not be silly, Taylor. Females do not care enough about slaves to put their lives on the line for them.

Despite that fact, Taylor couldn’t stop the warm giddiness seeping through him as he envisioned his luscious, curvy Kayla battling an army of women who wanted to kill him.

* * * * *

There were signs of restlessness in Taylor as they remained cooped up in the one-room cabin. He was potent. Dangerous. Sexy. Male. Those were the words she would use.

He would lie awake in his cot, following her every move. She liked the way his eyes were full of desire. Those scorching looks made her all hot and tingly. Despite all that bullshit about her drinking the Fever Swamp water, she really was attracted to him.

Since holding her chin and seductively running his thumb over her mouth the other day, he hadn’t so much as touched her. But his gaze teased her every nerve, keeping her senses alive and alert.

At night—like now—when he slept deeply, she watched him. He was a very sensual man. His eyes showed desire freely when he was awake, but when he slept his cock would twitch and grow beneath the blankets. Sometimes during his dreams he would toss until the blankets fell low over his hips, giving her shadowy glimpses of his assets.

She would fan herself and lie awake in bed, hot and bothered, her skin sensitive and needing his touch. She wished the storms would stop so she could steal away and masturbate through the powerful arousal tormenting her.

Oh God, but he was big and handsome and sexy. Every time she looked at him, blood pounded into her clit and she ached to have him touching her there. Oh yes, the nights were torture, but the days were worse.

During the days he would follow her with that knowing gaze. She ached between her thighs. Ached for him to fill her. Her breasts were swollen and surely he must have noticed how hard and pebbled her nipples were beneath her gauzy top, because she had a hard time keeping those nipples from poking against the material.

She wanted him to take her. Her body was primed and ready, but he didn’t do anything.

Perhaps she should initiate the first move? But she didn’t dare. Maybe he didn’t want her despite his need for sex. Maybe he dreamed of other women at night when he tossed and turned. Or maybe he just wasn’t ready. Maybe it was too early. He might rip open the sutures.

Kayla stared up at the spiders—what few she’d left on the ceiling. They barely moved. Just clung to their webs, waiting for a fly to get caught.

Isn’t that what Taylor was doing to her? Just lying in his cot, waiting for her to get so hot and bothered she would entangle herself in the web his fiery looks created?

God, she ached for him.

Normally she didn’t see the spiders up there during the night, except when a flash of lightning lit up the interior. But outside it wasn’t lightning anymore and rain didn’t crash on the roof. Moonlight shone through the windows and then the room darkened again. Everything was quiet. Even the thunder had stopped.

She sat up on a soft whimper, ready for some sexual release. Masturbating would help get her relaxed and put her to sleep.

Padding quietly to the fireplace, she tossed a couple of pieces of wood onto the coals. Despite the nights being warm, she kept a fire going in order to get rid of the dampness the rain had created. And boy was she ever damp between her thighs. Now that the latest storm seemed to have slipped into an interlude, her need for release drove her quickly outdoors.

Warm air breathed against her and wet grass wrapped around her legs. Closing the door quietly, she allowed her eyes to become accustomed to the night. The moon appeared from behind some gray clouds and stars twinkled brightly like diamonds on a black, velvet blanket.