Chapter 19

Emily

Honesty.

I hadn't expected Styx Saint to be honest in any way. Why did he need to be? He could have continued lying to me, acting as if I should be grateful he'd saved my life. Which of course still sounded insane. Who would put out a contract on a girl like me?

Who was the woman who'd died? More important, how? The compulsive way he was acting, the obsession he had with me made more sense now. That didn't give him a pass for kidnapping me, but it did help me realize that there was much more underneath the surface than I'd believed even a few hours before. A healer? Did that mean he'd been a doctor? I couldn't imagine someone taking that kind of oath then abandoning it. But… If he'd been born and raised in a criminal family, then after such a horrific loss, he'd return to his roots for safety. Maybe even comfort. That I knew too well.

Why did it seem like I was giving him a pass after all? Or that I was caring. Because he was right and that you're more alike than you care to admit. Ugh. I hated my inner voice.

As I trotted toward the water, I drank in the salty air, feeling alive and tingling all over. I'd run away from the feast because his truthful words were far too touching. His candid remarks had not only surprised me, they'd allowed me to see more of his pain as well as what drove him. I couldn't handle the fact I'd almost fallen into another web with the man, becoming not just physically attracted to him but almost feeling sorry for him.

If that's what my emotional shift was really all about. Under different circumstances, I could almost like him, be eager to go out on a date with him. He might be older by at least twelve to fifteen years, but he was full of life and energy, the dangerous element to him as attractive as his chiseled body.

I turned around, staring at him for a few seconds, the gentle wave rocking me as I walked backward. There was so much hatred inside of me, mostly for my father. I should be putting all my energy into loathing Styx. The Saint name. I'd heard of it. In the years of discourse with my father, I'd paid attention, finding all the various people he considered an enemy.

They were a powerful family. How powerful was what I didn't remember.

My father even had a little black book like people kept in the past with names scribbled in it. The Saint family had been underlined in red. It had to be the same people. That was likely how I'd come to Styx's attention in the first place. But why take me other than hatred of my father or as a method of dragging the man to his knees?

That didn't seem like Styx at all. Not in his business life or personal one. I dove into the water, still wondering if what he told me about the underwater grenades was true. Knowing him, I'd have to say yes. I'd stick close to shore.

The water was soothing, warmer than I would have anticipated, the day beautiful. Even the picnic, while unexpected, allowed my guard to drop a little. I hadn't considered he'd ply me with food to keep me drugged and docile. That also didn't seem like him. He had me where he wanted me. I turned around, throwing my arms into the air, marveling at the beautiful sight.

There was another cover, a boat attached to a dock. It was one of the ways to get off the island. Knowing him, getting to the location would be treacherous. Whether or not the horrible things he'd told me about the booby-traps were true, I wasn't going to test them. Yes, I still wanted to escape but not to the tune of being eaten by lions or bears or whatever lived in the jungles. I giggled, uncertain of all of it.

As I thought about what I knew about Styx's family, I did remember seeing a news report maybe two or three years before, an arms deal made to the Marines. It had been touted as revolutionary, without giving details of the various types of equipment sold.

I had a feeling Styx and his two brothers also had the world's best security equipment and gadgets for people like… oh, say assassins. I grinned from the thought, the tingling sensations continuing. I couldn't like him. I couldn't. It was silly, goofy of me.

Then why was I warming up to him?

I held my breath, waiting for a full thirty seconds before I surfaced. I jumped up out of the water, splashing it all around me, raking my hands through my wet hair. The sun was perfect, high in the sky and tingling my skin. After wiping my face, I turned my attention back to the shore, expecting to see my captor standing near the water.

He was nowhere to be seen.

For the briefest of seconds, I was concerned, which was as ridiculous as it was hysterical. But after scanning the horizon, shielding my eyes, I couldn't see him anywhere. There was no sign of trouble but I had no doubt given what he'd told me that he and his family had serious enemies. Heck. I loved watching Iron Man. He was a weapons dealer.

I started making my way toward the shore, my heart racing. I still couldn't believe I cared but the truth was that if anything happened to him, how would I get off the island? I dove into the water again, taking stroke after stroke toward the shore.

The second I was lifted out of the water into the air, I couldn't help but squeal. I should have known the man was… teasing me.

Oh, God. He had a playful side?

He spun me around, his smile mischievous. "Miss me, darlin'?"

"You are such a bastard." This time, I was cooing the nasty comment.

"So you've said." He slowly brought me down into his arms, pressing the weight of his body against mine. That's when I realized he'd removed his clothes. I immediately pushed against him as he spun me around in a circle. Sadly, the electric pull toward him was even stronger than before, the strange need I'd felt inexplicable.

But here I was, wrapping my arms over his shoulders, tangling my fingers into his hair like we were lovers. It was a strange feeling being more comfortable in his arms.

He spun me around in the water again, the slight smile he was wearing far too engaging.

"Tell me who you are, Styx Saint, other than a damaged, dangerous man."

"Why do you think I'm damaged?"

The answer was shockingly simple. "Because it takes a person who's had their spirit nearly crushed to understand the horrors another has experienced, to see them clearly through a fog of their own."

There was that moment, the one everyone was searching for no matter who they were or what money they made, where they connected with someone. Really connected. As twisted and odd as it seemed, this was that moment with my captor.

My protector.

I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, uncertain where this was going but the rush of excitement was a clear indication I wanted to find out. Did that make me a sad, vulnerable individual? Maybe. But he was right in that the life I'd been living had been like a well-trained seal, doing everything I was told to do.

Did that make this right? No. But being in Styx's arms I felt safe. Maybe that was the craziest thing of all.

He pulled my legs around him, holding on yet allowing me to feel freer than I had before, including in the shower. Maybe this is what psychiatrists who were paid the big bucks would call the beginning of Stockholm syndrome. However, they hadn't been in our shoes or lived our lives.

"Did he beat you?" I asked as he lowered his head until our lips were almost touching. I'd seen scars on his body, although not nearly as horrific as the one on his face. The whip marks had made me shudder although they'd been long since healed.

"Yes." The single word was said without emotion. "Did yours?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, other than hitting me once in the face, he found other ways of tormenting me."

The man bristled, his nostrils flaring for an entirely different reason than they had before. "Bastard."

When I pressed my fingers across his lips, I surprised even myself. "He can't control me any longer." Wasn't that a silly statement to a man who'd taken me hostage?

"I'll see to it that he can't."

"He's not worth it. Did you know you were on his enemy list?"

His eyes opened wide. "He keeps one and you've seen it?"

I nodded, half laughing. "Yes. My father might be good at many things, including subterfuge, but he couldn't keep me from his locked office or desk. I snooped. I found names of the people he hated or wanted dead."

"Mmm… You are truly my bad little girl. I feel honored I'm on that list." He ground his hips back and forth, allowing me to know just how aroused he'd become.

"You have no idea, but your entire family is. From what I know, at least six of your men are dead. A couple recently." Why not tell him the truth? I had no loyalty to my father. None. I brushed my fingers across the back of his neck, admiring just how gorgeous even his irises were. Where he'd appeared so cold and heartless before, I could see volumes of the life he'd lived, taking risks and enjoying the finer things while hoping for something more.

I knew by instinct he wanted a big, loving family. It was exactly what I'd wished for my entire life. In those few seconds of feeling so close to the man, so in tune with the agony he'd felt, I found myself falling a little bit more under his spell.

"I'll keep that in mind, my little angel, but I assure you that your father is no match for my power or my influence."

"I hope not."

Very slowly he lowered his head the remaining two inches, lightly pressing his lips against mine. I was already used to his forcefulness, a take what he wanted kind of man. So this guy, this tender acting person was someone I didn't recognize. I was terrified for a few seconds that this was some dangerous ploy. But as he gently opened my mouth, barely darting his tongue inside, I was swept away by the taste of him as well as the entire setting.

Crazy was the word to use for the moment, for the man and for the odd thoughts rumbling in the back of my mind. As the kiss became more intimate, the passion erupting between us, I wrapped my legs all the way around him, enjoying the feel of his thick, pulsing cock pressing against my stomach.

The desire was as overwhelming as it was strange, but I couldn't seem to find the willpower to push him away. That was the moment the intimate actions seemed to take on a life of their own. I was thrown by the tingling sensations that exploded into red-hot heat, the kind that would likely sear every inch of my skin.

I couldn't breathe and God help me, I didn't want to think. If I did, then I'd be forced to chastise myself for enjoying the moment.

And the man.

He swept his tongue back and forth inside my mouth, forever dominating but allowing me to engage in the moment as well. I was stunned by the intensity of our connection, the longing that only seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

As he walked toward the shore, I was blanketed by another feeling of warmth, the rush of need in my throbbing pussy much stronger than it had been before. I tugged on his hair as he fisted mine, the hold we had on each other unforgettable. I blocked out all the negative thoughts, refusing to give into my fears.

Or reality for that matter.

I had plenty of time to do that.

He eased down onto his knees, taking me with him. When he laid me on the sand, breaking the kiss, I gasped for air. The sun was blinding but it couldn't block out the hulking dreamboat positioned over me. He licked around my mouth before growling then biting my chin. When he slid his hands under my bikini top, untying it with ease, I didn't try to stop him.

A part of me wanted to say why bother. The other, the one that both embarrassed and titillated me, knew this was what I wanted.

He tossed the unwanted material away, his chest rising and falling as he allowed a very explosive gaze to fall down the length of my breasts. As he was peering down, I was allowed a better look at the man, his swim trunks the same blue as the shirt he'd been wearing. In the glorious afternoon sun, I realized his skin was bronzed from the kiss of sunlight.

Yes, even with the scars encompassing so much of his body, he was without a doubt the most gorgeous man I'd seen. I could swear there wasn't an inch of fat on him.

He leaned over, taking one nipple into his mouth, pinching the other with his fingers.

The little voice inside my head told me I couldn't want this.

Another part, the bad girl he kept talking about, whispered in my other ear this was exactly what I wanted and then some. The dichotomy was ridiculous and unnerving, but I couldn't stop quivering, the deep desire burning in my core.

I issued a series of whimpers as he twisted my aching bud, every sound adding to the wild moment in the sand.

He shifted his hot lips to my other breast, licking under the fullness, sucking on the bruised nipple he'd just tormented.

And I loved it, so much so I arched my back, closing my eyes and writhing in the sand. He was more passionate than I'd wanted to give him credit for, his touch masterful. He took his time, his heated gaze traveling to my face every so often.

Just noticing his eyes were twinkling was breathtaking. There were still butterflies in my stomach, more than a significant amount of worry but this was a way of letting go, something I hadn't been allowed my entire life. He'd known exactly what I'd needed, including coming to the beach.

He nipped my nipple then dragged his tongue all the way down my stomach, using his teeth to tug on the material of my swim bottoms. I found myself laughing where I'd wanted to cry before, pretending as if I was going to fight him.

As the salty water streamed over our legs with every passing roll of the tide, he pressed his hand down on my stomach, finally using his hand to free me of the bikini entirely.

Oh, this was so indulgent, so much so a rush of embarrassment tore through me. As if there was anyone around to see our foray into forbidden sin. Still, I planted my hand across my face, only fanning my fingers when he lifted my legs, bending them at the knee. I had to see what he was doing, although I knew exactly what his plans were.

Feasting on my pussy all over again. I was so wet already that I couldn't imagine it would take very long to climax. If I told anyone, admitting I wanted this sinful moment to last, they would and should lock me away in an asylum. Where had the good girl gone wrong, allowing the bad girl out to play?

I certainly wasn't going to find that answer right now. While I sucked in my breath, keeping my hand in position, he laughed in his deep voice before lifting my pelvis off the sand. Every action he took was gentler than before, including the way he breathed three incredible swaths of hot air across my pussy.

When he swirled his tongue around my clit, it was almost all I could do to hold back the orgasm. I was still sensitive from the morning fuck, goosebumps popping along my arms and legs from the sensational vibrations dancing down my spine.

"Oh. My. God." The word escaped my mouth the second he thrust several fingers into my tight channel. The moment my muscles clamped down, I jerked up from the sand, blinded once again by the burning sunlight.

This was delicious and taboo, but perhaps the most enjoyable experience I'd had in… maybe my entire life. I knew that was nuts but so be it.

He shook his head back and forth, savoring every drop of the juice already trickling down the insides of both legs. My mind continued to spin, my eyes becoming foggy.

Yet he was taking his time, feasting as if I was lunch on a silver platter.

I moaned and writhed, a tension between my nerves and anger and the sense of feeling relief for being allowed to be me for the first time in my life. Maybe I was as sick and twisted as he was.

Styx pushed my legs out even more, exposing me as no other man had. With the tickling light breeze and the feel of his invading tongue and fingers, I was certain I'd been catapulted into heaven. No, this didn't mean I would forgive or forget but I wasn't as enraged as before. I was more curious about the man, his life and his reasoning for doing what he did.

Was it possible he'd plucked me from the certainty of death or even worse?

I knew the answer. I'd felt my father was going to use me to whatever benefit suited him since I was sixteen or so, paraded around in front of his buddies like some champion thoroughbred.

Maybe that's why I accepted this to some degree.

I cinched my eyes shut, reveling in the pleasure my captor was bringing me, panting and whimpering every time he dragged his tongue up and down the length of my pussy. The pleasure was quickly shifting into uncontrollable ecstasy. The moment a climax reared its ugly head, curling my toes in the sand, I opened my mouth with a silent scream.

He wrapped his arms around my legs, digging his fingers into my skin as he held me down, licking and growling more ferociously than before.

I tossed my head, the explosion of desire and fulfillment also a strange combination.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes."

"My good girl," he breathed when a second orgasm hit. He pulled away, cracking three fingers against my throbbing pussy. It was painful but shoved me immediately into a full wave of pleasure.

I couldn't speak or make a single sound. He repeated the action twice more before softening his moment of feasting, soothing me with his rough tongue.

Laughing, all I could do was gasp for air as I started to come down from the cloud, a warm haze that enveloped my entire body like a thick and soft blanket. It was a full minute before I realized I no longer felt his touch. I managed somehow in my near drunken haze to pop up on my elbows, staring up at him as he stood, the man grinning like he was prepared to do something evil.

"What do you see?" he asked, which was a strangely open invitation from a man who had no clue what I'd say.

"Power. Indulgence. Perfection."

He seemed both pleased and surprised by my answer, sliding his fingers under the elastic of his trunks a few seconds later.

As I'd already suspected, he was an impatient man, not the kind to take his time with foreplay or silly conversations. Today was no exception. Within seconds, he was fully naked, dropping to his knees in the cusp of water, forcing me to straddle him.

His cock was pressed against my still aching pussy, the angle allowing me to see his fully engorged cockhead. It was slightly purple, already dripping with pre-cum. I couldn't help myself, dragging my little finger through the beads, pulling it to my mouth. The taste was both sweet and tangy.

My captor watched with fascination, the wry smile I'd hated before crossing his face. Now I almost liked it. The crooked look gave him character, as if he needed more than what he already had.

I sucked on my finger until he shook his head, lifting me off his lap, giving me a moment to understand what he was directing me to do. As had happened before, I found myself obeying him, pushing the tip past my pussy lips.

But this time, I wanted all of him.

He rocked his hips forward, impaling me as he'd done before, only his actions weren't nearly as brutal. I was pulled into another vacuum, my inner voice telling me I could be falling into quicksand. I refused to care, enjoying the electric jolts as they drifted back and forth from one to the other of us.

His eyes were just as mesmerizing as they'd been before, perhaps more so given the sunlight. He rocked us both, his strong thigh muscles flexing as he fucked me. I tossed my arms over his shoulders, trying to catch my breath.

"So beautiful," he whispered. "So perfect."

Little did he know there was nothing perfect about me. Not one thing. Not my personality or my skills, not my grades or what I wanted out of life. I was just… me. A scared girl with a need to be someone else, someone more powerful.

He was giving me that opportunity. He was allowing me to make my own choices.

As the fucking became more intense, he eased me onto the sand once again, planting both his hands on either side of me. He lifted his torso, allowing him to stare me in the eyes. There was something entirely different about him on the beautiful day, but I couldn't put my finger on what. It could be all about dragging his past back into the forefront. Had that been advisable? Only time would tell. I couldn't stop thinking about the night before, the wave of grief and guilt I'd heard in his strangled breathing.

I pressed my knees against him, wanting to ask so many questions, but I not only knew I wasn't likely to get any answers, I had no doubt I wouldn't like them if I did. He was more damaged than I was.

The connection remained strong between us, so much so the rational side of me stepped up to the plate again, wanting to cut it, refusing the tether but I sensed he was ready to erupt deep inside.

So what did I do? Instead of kicking him in the gut or taking this as an opportunity to run away, I squeezed my pussy muscles instead.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

His bellow of rapture didn't do as one might expect. No, it brought a smile to my face and a sickening feeling of warmth to my heart.

No, I wasn't as damaged as he was. I was much more so.

Maybe he should be afraid of me.