His Princess (A Man Who Knows What He Wants)

I need her pussy.

I know she says she’s not ready.

But I’ll show my naïve virgin just how wrong she is.

“I need your hot hole,” I snarl. “I need to feel how tight you are, how hot you feel wrapped around me.”

She grips her breasts, digging her fingers in, making me feral.

“But…”

“You said you only felt ready before because it was the heat of the moment because I’d just made your sweet young pussy cream?” I growl.

“Yes,” she says, with an unmistakable note of lust in her voice.

“Then get on the couch and lie down. I’ll make you cream so hard all you’ll be able to think about is—”

The whole bunker vibrates.

An explosion, dim from down here, but still audible.

It shakes again.

Two explosions.

I tilt my head like a predator, listening to the sounds around us.

“Fuck,” I murmur. “We’re under attack.”

“By who?” I look at her plainly and she nods. “Oh.”

“Your uncle,” I snarl as if it wasn’t obvious.

“But how did he find us?”

“I don’t fucking know.” I sigh darkly. “This landline is supposed to be untraceable.”

“Then how…”

Another explosion, this time louder. Closer.

They’re attacking the entrance, the small trapdoor that’s hidden amidst the underbrush.

But how well is it hidden, really?

It’s not like we could move the leaves and stuff back over the door once we climbed inside.

They could have traced the call.

They could have found the bunker.

And where my woman is concerned, could is too fucking much.

Chapter Fifteen

Ruby

I stand at Rider’s shoulder as he stands in front of the surveillance monitors, his hands on his hips as he sucks in a jagged breath and stares at the screens.

We’re both fully dressed, while the lust that passed between us is still achingly present, coating my whole body in a shivering layer that refuses to budge despite how suddenly serious the circumstances have become.

I feel the anger radiating from Rider as we study the cameras.

“Luckily, these are still operational,” he murmurs.

I sense he’s talking to himself more than me, his eyes fixed on the screen.

The cameras are in the trees, he told me, secured with metal brackets, weather-proof, and powered by the same generator that keeps this place alive. But he also said there was plenty of chance for wildlife to damage the lenses, for the brackets to break, but it’s like some force wants us to be able to see what’s happening above the bunker.

The explosions have stopped now that the attackers have realized the bunker is resistant to them.

A pit gnaws at my belly as I take in the sight of several men gathered around the trapdoor, Cartel men by the looks, with their hostage forced to his knees in the middle of them all. The hostage is Alex Garcia, a slight man who looks somehow boyish as he kneels in the dirt, his sharp-featured face pinched into a frown.

“It’s not your uncle,” Rider says, voice hard. “It’s Manuel Diaz.”

My eyes move to the man who stands just behind a kneeling Alex.

Manuel Diaz is the leader of the Cartel, or at least the leader of the Cartel as far as our city is concerned. I’ve heard his name whispered many times over the years, always in hushed tones, always with the implication that he’s a man not to be taken lightly.

He’s a tall man, with a wide chest and big meaty arms. He wears a suit that seems out of place in the forest, in stark contrast to his goons who all wear tank tops and T-shirts, showing off their heavily tattooed bodies. Manuel’s slick dark hair is combed back, and his face is gruff as if he’s getting ready to do something terrible.

“What are they doing?” I whisper.

Rider sighs. “The Cartel is more reckless than the mob, believe it or not.”

“It’s hard to think of Uncle Aaron as being the sensible one,” I agree.

“Exactly.” Rider nods. “But it’s true. Where Aaron and Manuel are concerned, Manuel is the wild card. My guess is he grabbed Alex when he was out on some routine call. They know I care about my partner. They know it’s a good way to get to me.”

“Why not get his family?” I say, even as the thought spirals hatefully into me.

It makes me think of our future family… the family we could be making right now if these twisted animals didn’t keep chasing us.

“I don’t know.” Rider shrugs. “Maybe they don’t think I’d care about them. Maybe they don’t want the trouble that would come along with kidnapping women and children. Maybe they’re waiting to see if I bite on this. It doesn’t matter. What matters is getting him back.”

“But how?” I say. “There’s…”

My eyes flit over the screen.

“Six of them, including Manuel.”

He faces me, his expression grim, his eyes flooded with sudden intensity. But it’s a different breed to the intensity he aimed at me earlier, when he was standing over me, his lips twisted into a possessor’s grimace and his eyes flitting with a dominator’s confidence.