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There’s no TV in here, and I already know better than to ask for something stupid like a cell phone or a laptop. But there is a collection of books on a bookshelf in the corner, and I'm surprised by the classics I see there.
I'm reading a copy of Dante's Inferno whenever Christopher walks back in and glances at the hardback in my hands. “One of my favorites,” he comments with a rare smile.
“It’s one of mine too,” I tell him.
He pauses as he studies me. “You're not exactly what I was expecting,” he finally comments.
“I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not,” I comment back dryly.
He doesn’t enlighten me either. Instead, he comes over and sits on the bed, his weight dipping me closer to him. He frowns as he regards me. “You haven't once begged me to take you home.”
I shrug. “You told me I would be home soon enough once you and my father worked out whatever you have to work out. How’s that going, by the way?”
His frown only deepens. “How do you know you can trust me?”
I shrug again. “You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be.”
His blue eyes flash, and he scowls.
I grin at the pissed-off look on his face and can't resist goading him further.
“You're all bark and no bite.”
He’s on me in a flash, his hand wrapped around my throat as he covers me with his body and presses me into the bed. “You know nothing about me,” he growls, his mouth mere inches from mine.
My pulse flutters wildly in my throat, but not in fear. His spicy, masculine scent is smothering me, and his blue eyes are so close to me I can see every individual fleck in them.
“You won’t hurt me,” I whisper up at him stubbornly, holding his gaze.
I can't even describe what happens then. A flood of emotions roll over his face. Disbelief, amazement, anger, and then something else I can't identify. Something that burns hotly and causes moisture to pool between my thighs.
“Fuck,” he finally grits out, and then his mouth is on mine.
He kisses me harshly, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. I surrender under his assault, my body going pliant underneath his. I know it's pitiful that at eighteen I've never been kissed before, but my father always kept such a tight rein on me. I wasn't allowed to date or anything for in case someone meant me harm. I've read about kisses in romance novels, but nothing could have prepared me for Christopher.
He growls into my mouth. It's a sound of pure, masculine satisfaction, and I feel it rumble down to my own chest.
His hands fist in my hair as he angles my head up to him and drinks from me thirstily, like a man who hasn't tasted water in a year. “Marissa,” he whispers my name hotly in my ear as he pulls my negligee up over my head. It’s not the same one I came here wearing either. He bought me a few new ones, and that's bizarre too, right? What kidnapper goes out and buys their captive clothing?
His lips are all over me, trailing down my jaw and along my neck, over my shoulders and collarbone, until they reach my breasts where he suckles my nipples.
I gasp at the sensation and fist my fingers in the silky strands of his dark hair.
I don't know what the hell's going on. I can't think. I'm just one big ball of nerves. All I can do is feel the sensations coursing through me. It barely registers in the back of my mind that this man is my kidnapper and my father's enemy. By all rights, he should be my enemy too, yet he's kissing me and caressing me like I'm the most precious thing in the world.
The next thing I know, I hear him unzipping his pants, and then I feel his cock, hot and heavy, falling upon my naked stomach.
I look down, my eyes widening when I take in the long girth of him. Of course, he’s huge everywhere, so I don't know why it surprises me to see how big he is down there.
I can’t help trembling. It certainly doesn't look like what he's packing between his legs will fit inside my tiny body, but my cunt is weeping and throbbing, crying out that she wants to try. She doesn't realize something like that is going to kill us.
“Christopher,” I whisper his name, my voice coming out shaky.
His eyes blaze into mine. He groans. “Say it again.”
I shake my head in confusion. “What?”
“My name,” he growls at me. “Say my name.” My heart beats erratically at the look of pure hunger on his face. Good Lord. He looks like he wants to devour me.
