His Hostage

“They play dirty, Rowan,” I say.

“I know they do. Why are we talking about this right now?” he asks me. “Let’s talk about better things, like whether or not you want me still.”

He eyes me very carefully, and I feel the guilt start to weigh over my shoulders. “Oh,” I mutter. “That.”

“Yeah, that,” he says. “Come on. Did you think you’d just be able to get away with what you said? You have to let me know what the hell is going on, woman. If you don’t, I think I’ll just about lose my mind.”

“Look, I don’t know what I want, okay?” I say. “I just know that I can’t do this forever. I can’t keep running from one major problem to another. I can’t have the pressure of a loaded gun pointed at me every single day of my life. You’re right to judge me, I guess. I didn’t have the cushy lifestyle like you think, but I sure as hell didn’t roam the plains with men holding rifles.”

He should understand. This whole thing is obviously crazy.

“That’s a funny image,” he says. “And I get it. You’re homesick.”

“It’s more than that,” I say. “It’s just everything. I came here for—”

“Peace and quiet. I know,” he says, grinning. He reaches over and brushes the hair out of my eyes. “And I ruined that dream. Doesn’t make you any less cute. Doesn’t mean I can’t stop liking you so damn much.”

I feel myself blush. “You like me?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I like you. What’s not to like?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I always thought that maybe you just wanted to fuck me, or something. You guys seem to get tired of women pretty fast,” I say.

“Maybe they do, but I’ve always been different,” he says, hand falling against mine. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s crazy, but I like you a lot. I like your tenacity, your willpower, and the connection you have to your home, even if there is some bad shit back there.”

“I like you too,” I whisper.

He leans in and kisses me. Tenderly, His lips close in around mine, and his tongue slowly slides inside my mouth. I breathe and taste him, as if this could all end in a second.

Our hearts beat in rhythm.

“You feel that?” he asks me.

I nod.

Tears form around his eyes. “If you leave here and head back home to those green pastures, I’ll understand. But I won’t forget you. I won’t forget this. There’s not much else that’s good in this world. At least, not for me.”

I look down again, trying to find the right words to say. In the end, I just kiss him. That’s all I want to do.

I kiss him harder and faster, until I’m on top of him, feeling his chest against my breasts. I pull back and say, “I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry for saying I want to leave. I want to make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “You don’t need to feel any guilt. I kept you in a damn hole for nearly a week, remember?”

“I want to,” I say, unbuckling his pants. I slip the button through the hole. I zip down and reach inside, staring into his eyes. I feel his hard cock against my palm and instantly grow wet.

&nbs

p; I want to make him feel good about this. I want him to feel like he can take on the world.

I fall further down, dragging my lips across his stomach and pelvis. I kiss his skin and pull his jeans down. His cock bounces onto his stomach, and he moans quietly, holding my hair up.

I let my saliva fall onto his shaft, using my hands to glide it around him. I hold his girth in my hand, rotating it slowly. He looks like he’s in heaven.

I bend my head and wrap my lips around his thick and throbbing cock. I slowly swallow every inch, until I reach his balls. He thrusts, forcing me to taste him.

I pull up and take a breath, smiling and running my tongue up and down to his balls.

I push forward again and feel him grow inside my mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells me.