Chapter Two

Carver

" S on of a bitch," I curse under my breath as my truck bounces through yet another pothole on the narrow lane leading to my cabin. If I hit one more of the fucking things, I may never have kids. My balls already ache like a motherfucker.

I lean forward to peer out of the windshield, but trees press so close to the truck, I can't tell if I'm nearly to the end of the old lane or not.

It'll be the first damn thing I fix come daylight. But it's after ten at night, and I'm exhausted after a hell of a trip from base in Washington. The potholes will have to wait until I get some sleep.

If I manage that. It doesn't come easy anymore. I've spent the last twenty years of my life in the military, dragging my ass to every hellhole on this side of creation. My last mission was the worst.

I barely made it out in one piece…and I was one of the few lucky ones. We lost far too goddamn many men, and it still haunts me. I'm not sure it'll ever stop at this point.

I turned in my paperwork as soon as I was stateside. That was almost six months ago. I've been through all the fucking therapy, but I still feel stretched thin, as if my goddamn skin is too tight over my bones. I still hear their screams at night.

All I want is some peace and quiet, which is why I bought the damn cabin at auction. It's in the middle of nowhere in the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. Fresh air, wide open spaces, and no goddamn neighbors. The perfect place to get lost while I deal with my shit.

I finally escape the last of the potholes, only to spot a small passenger car parked in front of the cabin. Annoyance immediately flares, but I shrug it off. It's probably hikers. The agent who helped facilitate the sale warned me that there are plenty of those out here.

I'll post a few No Trespassing signs and run them off the property until they get the fucking hint that this is no longer a free parking spot for their little adventures. I don't want to deal with people. I just want to be left the fuck alone. It's not too much to ask.

I kill the engine, grab my duffle, and head toward the cabin, too tired to deal with the rest of my shit—not like there's much of it. I'm not the kind of man who needs much in life.

My needs at the moment are simple: a shower and sleep.

At least, that's the plan until I step over the threshold. The smell of sugar and sunshine mixed with vanilla hits me like a fist in the gut. The scent is so intoxicating, so fucking sweet, it turns my cock to stone. I rock back on my heels, groaning as my balls throb.

I haven't taken myself in hand in… Christ. It's been months since I dealt with the hard bastard in my pants. It's not like there's been a reason. The damn thing never works.

The men in my unit used to give me shit about it all the fucking time, but I ignored it. Frankly, they would have been horrified if they knew why I didn't sleep around like most of them. But the shit I want?

Well, I gave up believing it existed anywhere outside of my own dirty mind a long time ago. I certainly wasn't going to ask some random woman to act like my little girl while I fucked her raw, especially when I never came across a woman who made me want to act on the desire.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I'll know my little princess when I find her. Until then, I've always been content to wait. It's not like it's been a hardship when I've spent most of my time deployed or training the next batch of Rangers meant to deploy.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, slapping the switch on the wall. As light floods the small cabin, it takes me a minute to process the scene in front of me. Whoever smells so goddamn good has been here recently.

Her shit is still strewn all over the place. There are shoes by the door, a bra draped over the back of the couch, and grocery bags sitting on the small table.

"What the fuck?" I mutter, stepping deeper into the room. Is she the previous owner? The one who decided that paying taxes was a suggestion and not a requirement?

I'm pretty fucking certain the agent said the former owner was a man. But those shoes won't fit any man I've ever met.

Another wave of that goddamn perfect scent wafts toward me. No man I've ever met smells that fucking good, either. I grit my teeth, trying to steel myself against the arousal that scent sends coursing through my veins.

Son of a bitch.

A soft shuffling sound slips from beneath the bedroom door. I whip my head in that direction, only to notice the light spilling out from beneath the crack.

Whoever the mystery woman is, she's still in there.

My temper flares at the thought of her using my cabin without permission. A savage growl builds in my chest as I stomp across the room, fully intending to kick her trespassing ass out of here. I don't care how good she smells, I'm not running a charity here, and I don't have the patience for bullshit. I'm too goddamn tired to deal with it.

I throw the door open with far more force than necessary, causing it to slam against the wall.

"You need to get the fuck out of my cabin right now," I growl. And then my gaze falls on the girl, no, woman, no, angel standing beside the bed.

A wave of arousal slams into me so hard it feels like I've been sucker punched in the stomach. The breath rushes from my lungs, and my fucking balls ache.

She's… Christ Almighty. She's the prettiest little trespasser I've ever seen.

She's tiny, barely even reaching my chest. Her sheer, baby-pink nightie does nothing to conceal her thick, lush body. I can see every goddamn inch of her through the damn thing, including her hard little cherry nipples.

The nightie clings to her full breasts and skims over the adorable roll of her perfect stomach before flaring out delicately against her wide hips. With her short dark hair wild around her face and her olive skin gleaming in the soft glow of the light, she looks exactly like a naughty angel sent to tempt me straight to hell.

And I'm tempted. Fuck yeah, I am.

Her body alone is a wet dream, but it's her innocence that grips me by the balls and refuses to let go. It's painted across her delicate face, burning deep in those gorgeous, wide green eyes. The vivid mix of vulnerability and defiance dancing there has me wanting to claim both as my own. To spread her out and taste both.

Her scent fills my lungs again—sugar and sunshine mixed with a hint of vanilla. It's the most erotic damn thing I've ever smelled. She's the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

She looks up at me, sweet as sin, her full lips parted slightly as if she's about to say something, but no words come out. She just stands there trembling as she stares up at me. She doesn't seem afraid, though. Just…frozen in place.

Those gorgeous eyes run over my face, turning a shade darker. Her nipples harden to stiff little peaks. She squirms from foot to foot suddenly, chafing her thighs together as her eyes slowly drift down my chest.

Ah, fuck. The pretty baby is turned on, isn't she?

I groan, and her eyes fly back to my face, tangling with mine.

Her lips part again, a soft sigh escaping. It's the sweetest little sound, like a goddamn coo of surrender.

The ground shifts beneath my feet as soon as I hear it. Maybe the entire fucking world shifts. I don't know. All I know is that as I stare at her, something inside roars "mine," and my entire universe reorders itself.

I've been a selfish man, putting my career and my comfort above everything else. For most of my life, nothing much mattered to me. But for the first time, I wonder what it would be like to put her above all things. To be responsible for her in every way—her pleasure, her happiness, her comfort. For teaching her what that ache between her thighs means and what she needs so fucking badly to make it stop.

This perfect little angel is the little girl I've been searching for—the one I didn't think existed.

She does. She's standing right here in front of me, turning my world upside down without even saying a word.

The need to hear her speak is suddenly overwhelming.

"Who the fuck are you?" I growl…which isn't precisely what I meant to say, but the sound of my voice seems to jolt her back into reality.

A tiny, adorable squeal escapes her lips as her fingers close around the edge of a pillow. Faster than I can blink, she launches it at my head, her aim damn near perfect.

I snatch it out of midair.

"G-Get out!" she cries in the sweetest voice.

I can't wait to hear it breaking while she's begging me to let her come.

"You're the one standing in my cabin dressed like you're itching to be bent over and fucked sideways, little girl." I toss the pillow aside and lean back against the wall, trying to make sure she knows I'm not a threat. I don't want to scare her any more than I already have…and let's be honest, I'm a helluva lot bigger than she is. I've spent my life in the military, and I've got the body to prove it.

"Y-Your cabin?" She gapes at me like I've grown a second head. But even then, she can't hide the blush climbing up her cheeks or the way she's still squirming from foot to foot. She can't hide those hard little nipples, either. "This is my cabin!"

Christ, she's cute—all pink-cheeked indignation and harmless defiance. Like a fucking kitten.

"Uh, hell no, pretty baby," I rasp, my eyes locked on her pussy through the tiny scrap of lace she calls panties. I can see the puffy lips of her pussy. Jesus Christ. I want to suck on those sweet things until she's squirming all over the fucking bed. "This is my cabin. Bought and paid for with my own money."

"Lies," she huffs, slamming her hands down on her hips, which only serves to make her nipples more visible. I want to suck on those too. Matter of fact, I don't see a single spot on her that I'm not dying to put my mouth all over. "It's mine. Leave before I call the p-police."

I glance up at her face, one brow arched. Will she be as adorably defiant when she's bouncing on Daddy's dick, begging to come? "The police, huh?"

"Yes," she says, false bravado in her voice.

"It'll take an hour before anyone gets to you, little angel. And even if they do manage to make it out here tonight, you'll be the one going to jail for trespassing since I own the fucking place." I eye her up and down. "Quite frankly, you don't look like the jail type. You're too fucking soft."

"Jail?" Her eyes widen almost comically.

"Yeah, jail. The place with bars on the windows and orange jumpsuits. Surely you've heard of it."

"You're the one who broke in. And you're awful cranky for a giant doing illegal things, just so you know," she huffs, and I have to fight a smile. She's not wrong about that—well, not about the cranky part. I've always been a crabby motherfucker. But I'm only teasing her. There's not a chance in hell that I'm letting her go to jail or anywhere else.

"So if the police come, I'm not going to jail," she continues. "You are. I rented this place from the owner." She eyes me up and down, trying like hell to slap a haughty, severe look on her face. But she couldn't pull it off if her life depended on it. Like I told her, she's soft. Sweet. "If you're afraid to sleep in the woods, don't be. I'm pretty sure you're grumpier and bigger than the bears. You'll probably be fine."

"Probably, huh?"

She shrugs one delicate shoulder. "Dum spiro spero."

"You hope I survive, or you hope I get eaten by bears?" I ask, grinning at her.

"You know Latin." She blinks at me, clearly shocked.

"Enough to get by. Which is it, pretty baby?"

"Neither." She bats her lashes at me, all mischief and innocence. "It means so long as you're alive, there's hope. You're alive, so there's hope you won't be eaten by bears when you spend the night in the woods."

"I'm not sleeping in the fucking woods, little girl. When did you rent this place?"

"Yesterday."

Her answer sends my blood pressure spiking.

"Son of a bitch," I growl, pinching the bridge of my nose. The previous owner rented the place to her, knowing that it wasn't his to rent any longer. What a fucking prick. "You were scammed. I'm the owner. I just bought the place at auction last week."

"You're lying."

"Afraid not, little angel," I say quietly.

Doubt trickles into her expression as her eyes run across my face, looking for any hint that I'm lying to her.

I stare back, unable to look away.

Goddamn. Would she kick my ass if I squeezed my cock right now? She has it so hard I can't think. She's so fucking pretty, and it's been a long damn time since I've had much beauty in my life. Hell, it's been even longer since I've had anything soft. And she has soft written all over her.

In fact, she has pretty little princess practically stamped across her forehead. My pretty little princess, as a matter of fact. My balls are about to fucking burst for her.

We can't have that, now can we, Daddy?

An image of her sitting on my lap, mischief in her eyes as she reaches for my cock slams into me. She's naked, her skin glistening with sweat, covered in my love bites, her belly round with my kid.

The image fades before she wraps her hand around my dick, but it's so strong I damn near come in my pants.

Jesus Christ.

A growl rumbles in my throat, and I have to fight the urge to storm across the room to her side. I want to own her, to possess her, to bend her to my will and rule her entire fucking world. No. I don't want it. I need it.

I shift against the wall, and her gaze drifts down. I know the second she catches sight of the erection tenting my pants. Her eyes go comically wide before she snaps her gaze back up to meet mine, her cheeks scarlet.

Her mouth forms a perfect 'O' as she struggles to find words.

"You're…that's…"

"Hard as a motherfucker? Believe me, I'm aware."

She gulps audibly, her gaze drifting down again. "Does…does it hurt?" she whispers.

"Like you wouldn't fucking believe," I growl, far louder than I intended.

She jumps, taking a step back.

Shit. I scared her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I promise, silently cursing when my voice still comes out too loud, too gruff. "You're safe here with me."

She doesn't respond—at least not verbally. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest in a protective gesture that has me clenching my jaw. She's scared of me now, wary. That's intolerable to me. She should never be afraid of me. Not ever.

"I won't ever hurt you, little angel. No one else will either." I'll fucking kill anyone who even tries to put their hands on her. No one touches her. No one even fucking looks at her.

She bites her lip, chewing on it like a goddamn bunny. And I want to be the wolf who claims her. My little bunny.

"You… You can't just…just…" she stutters. The confidence in her voice from earlier has completely evaporated. She's trembling again, too.

"Can't what?"

"Walk around like…that," she mumbles, staring at the floor.

"I wasn't walking around this way until I met you."

Her gaze flies back to mine, her eyes wide and startled.

"You made him this way." I'm going straight to hell for talking to an innocent little thing like her this way, but it's the truth. She's the reason I'm so fucking hard right now, but if she's old enough to get him this damn hard, she's old enough to know it. And she's definitely old enough. She may be an innocent little angel, but she's got woman written all over her.

She opens her mouth and then snaps it closed again without saying anything, an adorable blush staining her cheeks. But she seems less nervous suddenly.

"I still think you're lying about the cabin," she finally mutters, looking up at me through her lashes.

"I can go get you the paperwork," I offer, hoping it'll ease her mind. I need her trust. The fact that I don't have it already has me ready to start breaking shit.

Her eyes widen at the proposition, fear, and curiosity warring for dominion. Surprisingly, indignation wins out.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" The words tumble out of her mouth in a breathy whisper that's too fucking cute for words.

I chuckle, unable to help myself. She's a prickly little thing, but she's captivating as hell as she tries to regain control and draw some semblance of armor around herself.

"That wasn't an invitation for you to go with me, pretty angel. I'm perfectly content with you right here in our room."

"But we're not… we aren't…" she stammers, struggling for words.

I fight a grin, amused at how fucking sweet she is. Jesus Christ. I can't wait until she's mine. "We aren't what?"

"Nothing," she finally mutters, giving up with a little bounce of her shoulders that makes her tits jiggle. "Please get the paperwork."

Nodding, I head outside to fetch it from my truck and give her a moment to herself.

The cool night air is a welcome distraction. But as soon as the door closes behind me, however, a pit of anxiety opens in my stomach.

She's too far away. I don't like it.

Jesus. I've always prided myself on being a man of control, but right now, I'm not sure I have any. The way I feel about her is overwhelmingly powerful. Terrifyingly so. I feel obsession clawing through my guts, roiling like a thing alive.

The scent of pine and moss calms my racing thoughts. But my heart still thuds wildly against my ribcage, anticipation like a fucking drumbeat pounding through me.

Yanking open the glove box, I pull out the pile of paperwork detailing every nitty-gritty aspect of the cabin's purchase. It's all there—everything from square footage to property taxes—ready to convince my little angel that this isn't just some twisted game. I'm not lying to her. I wouldn't dream of doing that.

I jog back up the steps, half expecting to find that she's locked and barricaded the door against me. Instead, I find her tucked into the corner of the couch, the bright overhead lights showing even more of her delectable body beneath that nightie as she wrings her hands together.

"Here." I keep enough distance between us to prevent her from feeling crowded as I hold the paperwork out toward her. "Proof of ownership as requested."

She accepts the stack of papers cautiously, her eyes locked with mine before they drop to skim the documents.

"Your name is Carver Landon?" she asks after a moment.

"It is." I drag my wallet out of my pocket, showing her my ID.

She looks it over with her bottom lip lodged between her teeth and then nods before glancing back down at the paperwork.

"I still don't know your name, little angel."

"Lena," she whispers. "Lena Burke." She flips to the next page and reads silently for a minute before her face falls. She sets the paperwork aside with a heavy sigh, glancing up at me.

My heart clenches at the sight of the tears swimming in her eyes. No. Fuck. I made her cry.

"I owe you an apology," she says softly, her bottom lip wobbling. "This is your cabin, and I shouldn't be here."

"You can stay," I rasp, rubbing my palm over my heart. Christ, the sight of her so sad is wrecking me. I don't fucking like it. At all.

"I can't," she protests.

"You can," I insist. "It's late. We'll figure it out in the morning. Stay."

She hesitates, clearly torn, as I practically shout the last word at her.

"You're staying, Lena," I growl, authority ringing in my tone as I hold her gaze. "It's late. It's dark. You aren't going down the mountain by yourself."

"Y-yes, sir," she whispers, looking up at me through her eyelashes, all shy and sweet. Innocent.

My goddamn cock throbs, and I snap.

I can't take it anymore.

I bolt for the bathroom before I do something I can't take back—like drag her to the floor and fuck my kid into her belly while she screams for Daddy.

I'm barely through the door before I undo my belt buckle, yanking down my pants as I grasp my cock. An image of her on her knees, that curvy ass raised, those innocent green eyes looking up at me while she pleads with me to fill her, floods my mind.

Please, Daddy. Please put your baby in me. I need it.

A jolt of pleasure rips through me, and I groan.

I lean against the cool tile of the bathroom wall as I jerk myself off, each rough stroke of my hand driven by the sound of Lena's name pounding in my head like a heartbeat.

She called me sir.

Christ.

A possessive thrill rushes through me at just the memory, overwhelming every ounce of control I have left. The sweet little angel has no idea what she's unleashed inside me. No idea that she's obsessed a man who won't stop until he plants his seed deep within her. Until she belongs to him in every fucking way imaginable.

"Lena," I groan, dropping my head back as an orgasm rips through me. My seed splatters against the tiles, dripping onto the floor at my feet. Even in the aftermath, all I can think about is her. My little girl.

One way or another, she's staying, not just for the night, but until she's mine in every goddamn way.