Chapter 5

Running nakedthrough the forest is super not ideal.

Poison ivy and mosquitos and wolves notwithstanding, I have an eight-foot-tall, four-hundred-pound giant crashing through the trees behind me.

And he's not happy.

A sob kindles in my throat when I hear him shout my name, sounding like a wounded animal. Well, what the hell was I supposed to do? Lie there and let him take my virginity with a ten-pound eggplant lookalike? Dude was already way too attached before we slept together. I can't even imagine how he'd be afterward.

Probably caring and lovely and—

Oh my God. Do I hear myself?

This might sound crazy, but…I thought Carver was listening when I told him about my past. I saw the sympathy in his amazing—stop it, Lainey—green eyes and I knew he would understand that I've spent my life trapped. I can't do it again. But that's exactly what he wants to do to me. Keep me in his cabin, never let me leave, and growl at anyone who comes close. After spending the bulk of my childhood in foster care, I know too well what it's like to have no options.

Once I'd been returned to my mother, I spent a year trapped in a tiny one-bedroom, sleeping on a pull-out couch, unable to leave in case my mother took one too many hits this time. She sold me into veritable servitude. Thank God I escaped before that became a reality, but I promised myself I would never live beneath someone else's thumb.

I won't live like that again. This freedom I've taken for myself is too fresh, and no one is going to take it away from me. Even if my body is still seriously buzzing from Carver's touch. No denying that. My thighs are still sticky where they rub together with every sprinted step. My nipples are aching in miserable little points. Until he stopped listening and tried to rule me, I was loving every stroke of his tongue, the cherishing touch of his hands. The good parts are all my body seems to remember right now. And being painfully turned on is really adding to the surreal nature of running through the forest naked. I don't recommend it.

A tree branch whips against my cheek, and I duck right, hoping to find a path. Any path. I was sort of upside down when Carver brought me to his cabin, so I have no idea if I'm going in the right direction.

"LAINEY!"

A whimper falls from my lips. He sounds agonized and angry at the same time. As much as I'm determined to get away, I can't help but feel a serious pull back toward Carver. He's not a monster. Not at all. He's actually very sweet, when he's not threatening to murder anyone who thinks about touching my pussy.

Even that was kind of sweet.

Jesus. Do I have Stockholm syndrome?

I quickly discard that notion. The syndrome takes a lot longer to kick in than an hour. Plus I wouldn't be running awayif—

My foot catches on something and I go sailing in the air. Light flashes in front of my eyes, pain slicing down behind my right eye. Ow. Ow. Oh my God. Dizziness blurs what little vision I have in the moonlight, and that is soon obscured by oozing, red moisture. Blood. Hearing impossibly heavy footfalls coming closer, I attempt to stand, but lose my balance and go down hard.

"Shit."

Swiping at the blood trickling into my eye, I only see some of Carver break through the trees to my left, half clothed in unzipped pants he must have pulled on before giving chase. And the outraged bellow he lets out is probably heard clear in Russia. I clap my hands over my ears to avoid going deaf and watch him approach, unable to stop myself from marveling over his size. Somehow in the last five minutes, I've forgotten how massive he is, but there's no ignoring it now. He blocks out the moon and the trees on either side of him.

I'm unprepared when he drops to his knees right next to me, the ground vibrating under the force. "You're hurt." He takes a shallow breath. "You were hurt while running away. From me."

"This isn't your fault," I murmur, commanding my hands to remain down, even though they want to push his hair aside and smooth the lines from between his eyes. "Please, just…let me go. I'm fine. I'm just a little dizzy."

"I wanted to rip off my skin when you were walking amongst those other males in clothes. You think I could let you walk back to that camp, naked and alone in the dark?" He scoops me into his arm and stands, as if I weigh nothing more than a fly. After staring down at me for a few beats, he begins to stride back in the cabin's direction. "I forget you do not care whether or not I go insane."

"It's not that I don't care…" I whisper, before I can think better of it.

"Silence. You fooled me once. It won't happen again."

"You fooled me, too."

Carver stops on a dime. Impressive for someone the size of a small building. "How did I fool you?"

My throat tightens and I'm horrified to realize I'm tearing up. "Pretending to put me in charge. Pretending I had an ounce of control over anything." I deepen my voice in a pathetic attempt to mimic him. "Consider me your servant." I cross my arms over my chest and hit him with a look designed to kill. "Liar."

His chin jerks back like I punched him. "I don't understand."

"I told you it was hurting. I told you it was too much and you didn't stop. You weren't even listening." When understanding dawns on his face, my chest starts to hurt even more. Not used to sharing emotions with other people, I turn my face and bury it in his meaty shoulder. "This sucks."

There's some movement, and based on the sound of groaning wood, I think Carver has sat down on some poor tree stump, but I don't look to be sure. Even from my position at his shoulder, I can hear his heart pounding fast and furious. The whole forest probably can. "You ran from me because…I lost control."

"Partly," I mumble into his bulk. "Yes."

A big, hesitant hand strokes down the back of my hair. "Partly?"

"I told you how much being free means to me, but you want to keep me as a prisoner. You disregarded what I want, just like you did when we were…when you were…"

"Eating your pussy."

Heat kindles in my lady basement at those three gruff words. Remembering the way his gargantuan, ox-like shoulders flexed as he worked his mouth between my thighs makes me squirm in his hold. "More like plundering."

I hear him swallow a moan, feel the flesh between his legs rise and press against my back. "You cannot imagine what the taste of you does to me, princess," he rasps. "It turned me into the beast you knew I was."

"You're not a beast," I blurt, untucking my face from his shoulder to look him in the eye. "You're unique. Protective and sweet." Once again resisting the urge to push the hair out of his face, I shrug. "Unfortunately, you're also kind of a kidnapper."

"How else would I make you come with me?" His jaw flexes, catching the moonlight. "You see how people react to me in public. Screaming and running for cover. I couldn't exactly ask you out for coffee."

A giggle catches me off guard.

Carver looks perplexed by the sound.

"Relax. You just said something funny."

He frowns. "You kiss me, then run away from me. And now you're laughing and smiling at me. I find this all very confusing."

"You're right. Women are confusing. You're better off without me."

"I cannot be without you. I cannot!" Animals scurry away in the leaves following his king-sized shout. "You will come home. I will not forget myself again."

I try to sit up, but he squeezes me up against him.

"Do you want me to beg for each lick? Each kiss from your pretty mouth?" His tongue traces the seam of his lips, his pupils seeming to dilate in the shadows. He rakes my naked parts with starved glances. "I will earn the right to use my tongue and cock on your little body. You will decide when I've done so."

Lust slams into me like I've run into a brick wall. "This is all b-because you want to make me happy?"

"Yes. You are mine, Lainey. I knew it from the moment I saw you. And again when you spoke to me." His scarred lips twitch. "Maybe most of all when you broke the lamp over my head."

Once again, a giggle escapes. "No fair, making me laugh when I'm supposed to be escaping," I whisper, taking in his mostly hidden features, his giant chest full of unruly black hair and crisscrossed scars. I'm dying to know how his entire body ended up scarred, but I'm afraid to ask right now, lest it make me want to surrender my independence so I can make him happy, instead of myself. "Carver, there's only one way this will work."

Did I really just say those words out loud?

Yes. Yes, I did. I'm negotiating a relationship with an eight-foot-tall behemoth nicknamed The Butcher. How's that for a kick in the ass?

He looks dubious. "How?"

"If you want me to be happy, you have to let me go. You have to trust that I'll come back to you."

"No." He stands and starts to pace, still holding me in his arms. "No, princess. You ask for something I can't give."

Wet moisture presses behind my eyelids. "Then I'll be sad. I'll keep trying to escape." He makes a pained sound, his chest beginning to lift and shudder. It hurts me, right in the center of my being. Deep in my bones.

If he's making me feel things I've never experienced—desire, yearning, fear of losing him—despite the fact that he literally abducted me…this connection between us isn't one sided. Is it? He thinks I'm made for him, and with my stomach in knots over the prospect of us being parted…I'm beginning to wonder if that's not such an outlandish possibility. If that's true, then I can't just write him off. My heart protests over the very idea of leaving him in misery. So I have to try and reason with him. Have to do some convincing.

"Carver?" I reach up and brush my fingers over his lips. "Can you set me down for a second?"

He makes an uncertain sound in his throat, but his eyelids droop at my touch. "Does your head feel okay?"

"Yes. It's only a scratch."

Shifting on his feet for a few seconds, he finally does what I ask. He stands in front of me, looking consumed. By me. As if he doesn't know whether to kneel and beg or throw me over his shoulder and take me captive again. My nipples go hard over the thought, even as my mind rebels. No, this thing with Carver has to be on my terms or I'll never be able to live with myself.

I press a finger into the center of his massive chest and push. There's no way in hell I could move him an inch, even if I threw my entire weight into him, but he must take pity on me, because he sits down on the same tree stump we sat on before. And I waste no time cupping my breasts, watching his jaw go slack, his moan raising goosebumps all down my arms.

Convince him letting you go is right. Convince him you'll come back.

"I'm your little princess, Carver. Aren't I?"