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“What tipped youoff?”
Rixen glimpsed his house in the distance, outlined by the moonlight glinting off the water. Pride welled in his chest to be bringing home his mate. Any minute now, they would step over the threshold. “I’ve been waiting for my angel, and you arrive to me pure. Innocent of any touch but mine. And still you have doubts that you were chosen forme?”
She sighed up at the sky. “Oh, you’re a chauvinist, too? That’s just the icing on the cake.” Rixen didn’t know the wordchauvinist,so he stayed quiet. “What about me? Don’t you care ifyouwere chosen forme?”
“Ah but I was, Morgan.” Rixen climbed the porch of his home and kicked open the door. “I come to you pure,too.”
Chapter Three
Morgan
No waythis rough-hewn bayou man was a virgin, just like Morgan. No.Way.
Granted, he wasn’t attractive in the classical sense. He was filthy and his hair hadn’t been brushed since the Obama administration. But he was built like a freaking skyscraper. If he wanted to get laid, there had to be some swamp girls who’d be down to hit that, right? She didn’t have a vast knowledge of backwoods America, but a man who could provide and protect in this kind of environment had to be acommodity.
And had Rixen seemed a little…embarrassed when he’d admitted to being avirgin?
Just like that, Morgan was relating to a man who’d made an alligator hisbitch.
Oh God, how long did it take for Stockholm syndrome to set in? Was she setting a record here for feeling sympathy for her captor? No.No, be strong, girl.Don’t look at the prideful set of his chin and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this man really wanted nothing more than to cherish her with his tongue and some squirrelstew.
Didn’t matter. She wasn’t sticking around. Maybe if she could lull the giant into a false sense of security, she could run for the hills once his big, broad back wasturned.
“Hey,uh…”
Morgan trailed off when Rixen carried her over the threshold of his one-story cabin—the symbolism of which wasnotlost on her—and set her down. A muted glow emanated from a gas lamp in one corner of the room, casting dancing shadows over…the most glorious room she’d ever seen in her life. Thanks to her rich parents who’d spent years trying to outdo each other, she’d seen some swank hotels and fancy vacation rentals in her time. But this rustic retreat put them all toshame.
Embers twinkled in a broad-mouthed fireplace, cushy animal pelts lining the floor in front of it, just begging to be napped on. Book shelves curved in patterns along every wall, as if following a loopy, lazy cursive. A huge picture window took up almost the entire wall opposite the fireplace, looking out over the moonlit water. And the furniture. It looked ready to swallow her whole and never let her up, its comfort was so obvious without even touchingit.
Morgan turned to find Rixen watching her from beneath weighted eyelids. An enormous erection tented the lap of his grimy overalls, tension rippling in his gladiator muscles. Despite her limited experience, she knew this was a man in desperate need of relief. Wet spots dotted one denim leg and they continued to spread the longer they regarded each other across the living room. Unbelievably, Morgan found her breath coming faster, her nipples beading inside the triangles of her bathing suit top. What was happening to her? Was something about restraint in the face of his obvious hunger making herhot?
Rixen approached slowly. Here it was. The moment he threw her down and used her body like a sex doll, no regard for her screaming, searingpain.
But instead, Rixen took her hand and guided her into a bathroom, lighting another gas lamp once inside. With the effort it takes to flip a book page, Rixen lifted her onto the sink, putting her face on level with his hairy, muscle-swelledpecs.
“Does it hurt, mygift?”
“A little,” she whispered, shocked at her desire to comb through that coarse hair with her fingers. “Do you have modern medicine outhere?”
“I have everything you need,” he said without missing a beat, lifting her ankle in a rough, callused hand. “Anything you want that I don’t have, I won’t rest until I getit.”
“Oh.” Morgan swallowed. “Cool,cool.”
Rixen’s mouth lifted at one end as he leaned in, reaching past her to turn on the sink tap. The hair of his beard grazed her cheek and a hot shiver tickled her spine. Oh man. Full on Stockholm’s. It would claim her unless she fought. If he noticed the conflict in her, he didn’t comment, his focus on her ankle. Cleaning it off with a surprisingly soft washcloth, spreading a salve across the gash and bandaging it, his fingers so gentle, brow creased in concentration. When she found herself studying his mouth a little too closely, she cursed herselfinwardly.
“Why haven’t you done it yet?” Morgan blurted, needing a reminder of the situation.Kidnapping in progress, girl.“We both know I won’t be able to fight you off. Maybe you’re getting off on making me wait? Letting me agonize over the when and h-how—”
“You will not fight me if I do it right.” He frowned. “That is myhope.”
“What if I dofight?”
“I will go back to studying how to please you.” Morgan held her breath as Rixen knelt down and kissed her bandaged ankle. “As far as the when, I said I would feed youfirst.”
“I’m not hungry,” she murmured like an idiot, completely thrown off by the way this alligator wrestler had kissed herbooboo.
Rixen’s eyes flared. “I will lick you now,then.”
“W-well,wait.” She searched her mind for a way to stall. No one had ever seen her nether regions before, let alone tasted them. She’d always hoped she’d have the opportunity to get drunk first. Plus, she was supposed to be buying herself time to escape. “You have to clean upfirst!”
