Page 16 of Captive Souls

I’d tried to ignore her, slamming the refrigerator shut as I put the last of the food in it.

But her voice, soft and throaty, punctured the silence I usually preferred. I was surprised to find myself thinking there would be no greater comfort than hearing that tenor for the rest of time.

“It’s going to be dark soon. We need wood.”

I stared at her.

“Wood?” she repeated when I didn’t reply. “It comes from trees.”

I wanted to smile. I didn’t know why. Nothing made me want to smile, certainly not half-ass sarcasm. But coming from her…Fuck. Never in my adult life had it been hard to control my expressions, my emotions. But with her, it took all my effort to remain emotionless.

“I’m aware of the origin of wood,” I replied in the tone I used with everyone. Flat. Threatening.

Her eyes glimmered with mirth she shouldn’t have been feeling while alone in a cabin with me, with darkness approaching. She should’ve been shivering in her ridiculous fucking shoes.

I hadn’t told her where we were going, what to pack for. That wasn’t my job. I hadn’t known what I expected her to be wearing, but definitely not a skintight pair of jeans that showed off her juicy ass, a faded Fleetwood Mac tee and leopard print sneakers. That had glitter on them. The attire wasn’t conventionally sexual, but regardless, I found it infinitely appealing.

“Excuse me.” She put her hand on her chest. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

Wrong move.

It brought my attention to her tits.

Small. Perky. Fucking perfect for her frame.

That withered thing inside of me that was desire woke up.

I struggled against the stiffening of my cock. It was a foreign feeling, more than unnerving to have no control over my own body. To experience such profound weakness.

“If you know the origin of wood, then you may understand we’re in the Appalachian Mountains in spring,” she said, thankfully unaware of my hard cock. “Daytime is still quite warm, but the nights will turn frigid.” She looked around the room. “Especially in something like this without the updates it needs.” She sucked her teeth. “I don’t want to becoldon top of being a captive. Therefore, we need wood for that.” Shemotioned to the fireplace. It took up a decent amount of space in the room, stained black and shrouded with cobwebs.

Though a lot of blood had pumped to my cock at that moment, I could still use my brain. She was right; we needed wood. I hadn’t thought about that. I hadn’t thought much about the logistics of any of this. I’d gotten food, rudimentary supplies, everything you technically needed to survive, but not the finer details.

Unlike me. Very unlike me.

Granted, my usual hunting grounds were decidedly more urban than this, but that wasn’t the excuse. It was her. It had been her since the moment I saw her. She had me off-kilter. Sloppy.

Her green eyes danced with amusement, but they were also penetrating, as if they saw right through me. Into my soul. But that couldn’t be true. I didn’t have one of those.

“There’s an axe outside,” she continued.

I hadn’t seen it.

Sloppy.

Very fucking sloppy.

I’d scouted the surrounding area, ensured that there was only one usable road in and out of the property, the woods dense and full of predators. Nearest neighbor was fifty miles away. I’d made certain that there was no way for her to escape, but I stupidly hadn’t taken stock of things that could be used as weapons.

She was 5′5′′ at best, one hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. Her eyes were wide and innocent, though she was full of curves and substantial—she looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fucking fly, let alone me. Even though I was holding her captive. Even though I was intending on breaking her like a broodmare.

But people were animals. And no matter how shapely her hips were, how soft her edges, how big her eyes, a cornered animal would attack. Always.

Part of me—that rotten, wrong, evil part of me—itched for her to fight me, to sink her fingernails into my skin, coat her hands in my blood.

“Do you know how to chop wood?” she asked, innocent as can be. But her lips were pursed in a way that made it distinctly clear she was trying to hide a smile.

It was almost as if she was …teasingme.