I can’t…
I shouldn’t…
He shouldn’t…
Oh, but it’s so sinful.
I barely know this man. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. He’s confessed to being a killer, began torturing a man right in front of me, and like some two-dollar hooker, I’m ready and eager for him.
There’s this pull between us. I’m dragged from my comfort zone into this alternate universe where it’s okay to want Atticus, to give myself to him.
“Why am I letting you do this?” The words leave my mouth without permission.
His hard gaze bores into me with the intensity of a man about to claim his prize. I see so much; clarity is right there for me.
Lust, need, possessive intent.
I know without doubt he doesn’t mean me harm. He wants to ring every ounce of pleasure from my body he can before he takes his own.
“You’re letting me do this because even if your mind isn’t sure, your body knows you belong to me. You are mine, Catalina, and there isn’t a fucking thing I won’t do to keep you.” His eyesight lasers into me. “Including fighting you about it.”
Gripping his dark locks tight in my hands, I pull his head back in the same fashion he’s done to me as I slowly lower myself over his hardness. “I’ve never done this, Atticus.” My confession is loud in the room, only masked by the crackling fire.
“That’s okay, little lamb, I’ll only make it hurt for a moment.” It’s the last warning I get as he slams me down on his cock.
A scream rips through me, and my dogs howl as they race around the couch. I don’t have the energy or mindset to command them to stop, but Atticus does. “Enough! Bed,” he yells, and both do as they’re told. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Feel that tight little cunt rippling around me like a sweet girl.” I moan as he moves my hips slowly. “You’re just trying to suck the cum from my body, aren’t you? You want me to fill you up, plant my baby inside you, huh?”
I can’t say anything. The air is lodged in my throat as his thrusting slowly morphs into bliss. “Atticus,” I mumble.
“I got you, little lamb. All of you is all of me.” Standing with me in his arms, his hardness buried so deep inside me, I don’t know where he begins and I end. He leans my back against the closest wall.
With a tighter grip on my hips, his bruising force drives into me over and over again until I can’t think straight. Pain slices through me when one of his hands lets me go, and I feel blood flowing through me again. Gliding the arm up my chest, he twists one nipple, a devilish grin on his face as he does the same to the other.
It’s not until I feel his fingers wrap around my throat that my body truly comes alive. “There she is,” he whispers. “You want my control, don’t you, Catalina? You want me to force every orgasm out of you. I get it, lamb.”
“Please,” I reply huskily. This, us, we shouldn’t be, yet, we couldn’t be more perfect than what we are.
Atticus didn’t just come for me, he came to bring ruin to my mountains. My sanctuary. Yet, somehow, by the grace of God, he’s chosen for us to be. Weariness should flow through me instead of lust and desire.
I never want these feelings to end.
Atticus
She’s fighting this. What we’re meant to be. The harder I push, though, the easier it becomes to make her yield to my ministrations. I see the leeriness lurk in the back of her gaze as she struggles to welcome the pleasure I want to impose on her.
“Atticus.” Her eyes close as she moans my name like a prayer. Her cunt tightens to the beat of my fist around her throat. Her breaths stall in her chest for the smallest of seconds as she explodes into serene bliss.
“That’s a good, little lamb.” I kiss up her neck, her flesh smooth as I nip and suck on her skin, marking her for the world to see. From this day on, Catalina is mine.
My woman.
My other half.
My property.
Should McCray choose to show his face here, touch her the way he’s done to Lilith, I’ll snap his neck and leave him in the woods for the bears to dispose of.
For me, there’s no hunt for more information. I don’t care about his motives. I only want one thing in this world now. His death.
“Tell me, Catalina, would you abandon this mountain for me? Would you follow me home?” I flex my cock inside her even as she continues to convulse around me.
“Would you live here with me?” she counters. “Would you give up your glamorous life for one of solitude and simplicity, for me, Atticus?”
Pulling her head back, I wait for her eyes to meet mine. “I would give up heaven and earth to have you. Whether you come or I stay, you belong to me now, little lamb.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, Cat’s eyes bore into mine, searching for answers to a question she has not yet asked.
“Then, yes.”
“Good.” I nod. “Once this storm lets up, we’re leaving. Back to the panhandle of Florida. You can make arrangements for the animals to be sent later.”
Her sight clears, and a storm begins to brew. “I can’t just leave at the flick of a hat. I have responsibilities here. This is my home, Atticus.”
I have to remind myself that she has no idea the amount of danger she’s in simply because she shares the same blood as a sadistic asshole who gets off on hurting those weaker than himself.
“Your cousin, did he ever tell you how he knew McCray? Why you should steer clear of the man?”
“No.”
Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, I wrap it around her shoulders as my cock slips free of her warmth. Experience has shown this conversation will not be easy. Especially for her.
“McCray.” I pause. I know it’s a moment she’ll never get back. “His mother fled Scotland when she discovered she was pregnant with a third child, nineteen years ago.” I can see the expression on her face; she’s trying not to connect the dots. “She ran to Alaska. Away from a husband who beat her, and two boys who tormented her with what they planned to do with her unborn child.”
“That’s horrific.” Tears are on the brim of her eyelids.
“Catalina…that woman? She was your mother. The baby is you.” Fuck do I hate this shit. Steven thought he knew everything, but his timing was off. Cat’s mother met her dad sooner and let everyone believe the baby was his. Other than a doctor’s record in Scotland, no one outside the immediate family knows.