Captive's Desire

Captive’s Desire

By

Natasha Knight

Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Natasha Knight

Copyright © 2013 by Stormy Night Publications and Natasha Knight

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Knight, Natasha

Captive’s Desire

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by RomanceNovelCovers.com/Jimmy Thomas, Bigstock/Ollirg,

Bigstock/SeanPavonePhoto, and Bigstock/Leigh Prather

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Chapter One

Livvie rolled her aircraft onto the runway, listening to the heavy steel doors slide closed behind her. She forced in a shallow breath and gripped the throttle with sweaty hands.

“Officer Jenkins requesting permission for launch,” she spoke into her headset.

Her heart raced. Today’s mission was the last of a series of tests. Just one more to pass before earning her place as a pilot of the Hunter-Killer Squadron of Magnus One, one of the last two remaining cities on Earth. At twenty, she’d be the youngest woman ever to join such an elite group and, although proud, she couldn’t shake the anxiety she felt today.

“Request acknowledged, Jenkins. Hold position,” came the hard voice of the controller.

She turned her face to the bright blue sky, knowing for all its beauty, the contamination it contained.

She’d flown this route several times over the last year of her training and each trip had been uneventful. It was just the thought that today she’d be doing it solo, without any assistance at all, should she run into trouble.

She straightened her back and looked straight ahead, annoyed with herself. She was a soldier. Hunting the resistance fighters outside the city was what she was trained to do. Yes, they had weapons of their own, but nothing as sophisticated as what she had access to.

Still, something made her feel uneasy and she didn’t normally feel uneasy.

She counted to ten as she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves. But when she was given the okay to take off, she was a mess again.

Get it together, Livvie.

After pushing several buttons, she took the throttle with both hands. Acceleration was loud and fast and she was quickly airborne. In no time, she was far beyond the domed, protective walls of her city.

She checked her controls and sat back. The first part of the trip would be unremarkable, dead land. This part of the country had been so used up that all its resources were depleted. The earth here had nothing left to give and was considered uninhabitable at this point.

She would be stationed at Magnus Two, which stood on the western coast of the country. Although Magnus One was the larger of the cities, Magnus Two was the more beautiful, the terrain offering variety in mountains and oceans, desert and rougher country. She was glad for the change, although a part of her didn’t want to leave her twin sister behind.

The first hour and a half passed without incident. She watched out the window as she now approached the mountainous region that covered a good portion of the western half of the country. This land was beautiful and wild. She wondered if she’d ever get to set foot on it, but imagined not. Not with the poison she’d become exposed to.

She was thinking what a shame it was when, out of nowhere in the clear blue sky, a burst of light jolted her aircraft. She screamed when the plane shook violently and didn’t have to see to know that she was falling, something that frightened her to her core. Always had.

“Mayday, mayday,” she called out. She opened her eyes, but her vision had been impaired by the bright white of the light. She knew her ship and worked from memory, trying to right the aircraft. She pushed buttons and pulled levers but nothing worked; the ship had lost power. She wasn’t even sure if her distress signal had been received at Magnus One—she didn’t have the acknowledgement that should have come. She released her seatbelt, sure the earth was fast approaching, and hit the button to eject.

What happened next was thankfully too fast to process. She could make out nothing around her as she was launched high into the sky and away from the sound that signaled the crash of her plane. She held tight to the cords that carried her and only opened her eyes when the sensation of falling had passed and was replaced by one of floating. Her vision was blurred and dark and she kept squeezing her eyes open and shut, trying to clear them. She landed with a hard thud near the heat of the wreckage that was her ship. She heard a popping first and tried to scramble to her feet, to pull herself free of the parachute that had just saved her. That would become the cause of her death if she couldn’t free herself of it. But with her vision as it was, the effort was futile. The popping noise she heard was likely the fuel tank about to blow and if that was the case, she had to get away fast if she had any hope of surviving.

Her last thought was of her sister. Of how she’d be alone now.

There was another crackle from the wreckage, but what happened next wasn’t what she expected.

Large hands lifted her from the ground.

“Up, come on,” a stranger’s voice ordered. “Can you stand? How badly are you hurt?”

The smell of him had already alerted her to what he must be: one of the contaminated humans. With his dirty hands on her.

“Don’t touch me!” She fought him, his form a blur as he cut her free of her parachute.

“Stop fighting,” he said, lifting her easily as he cut the last rope. Another sound came from the airplane behind him. “It’s going to blow any second.”

“Get your hands off of me, you’ll contaminate me!”

“I could let you die instead,” he said, shaking her hard once.

She put her hands against his chest and looked up, slowly registering the meaning of his words. As her vision cleared, she could make out the outline of his form, how big he was. He looked different than anyone she’d ever seen. His dark hair hung in thick waves to his shoulders, a shadow of stubble all along his face, his jaw and neck.

He looked down at her, but she couldn’t understand his expression because in the next second he had hauled her over his shoulder and was running from the wreckage. The explosion came a few moments after that, but by then, he’d pushed her to the ground, laying his weight on top of her as they took shelter behind a boulder. She screamed, covering her ears, his arms hugging her, compressing her already small form, his body pinning hers to the earth. She felt his breath against her cheek, the scruff of his unwashed, unshaven face scratching her softer skin, the smell of him like nothing she’d ever smelled before.

A few moments later, the air around them seemed calm and the sound was now that of a fire burning. He rose up to his knees, straddling her hips, and she turned to watch him as he took in the state of things. He looked down at her and moved his weight so she could pull herself to a seat. She faced him, rubbed her eyes once, and looked again. Was this real? She looked back at the wreckage of her plane. She’d crashed, her worst nightmare. No, not her worst. She’d survived the crash and was now sitting across from one of the contaminated humans she was trained to kill. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept on her at all times. It wasn’t standard uniform, but she’d learned to fight with one and she fought well. Her brother had taught her before he’d been killed on a special mission almost five years ago. She turned slowly back to the man to find him studying the wreckage. Now was the time; he’d be too strong to overpower without injuring him first. Quickly, she flipped the knife open and with her palm turned up, she brought it to his stomach. She knew it would cause him pain, but she had no choice.

He grabbed her wrist just as the tip of the blade cut his shirt. “Is this how you thank me for saving your life?” he asked. He easily relieved her of her dagger and, holding her wrist painfully in his hand, turned the blade over to study it. He checked her name badge before meeting her eyes once again, his expression a hair different. She wondered if he could make out the engraved name on the knife.

Jet engines cut into the air, drowning out the sound of the fire.

“They’re coming for me!” she yelled. “And they’re going to kill you.”

Ignoring her, he quickly tore the small golden badge off her uniform and threw it toward the wreckage.

“What are you doing? Why…” She clutched the torn shirt to herself.

He dragged her to her feet, pulling her along up the ridge. “They’re not coming to rescue you if that’s what you think,” he said.

“They are. Give me back my dagger,” she said as he dragged her along. “It doesn’t belong to you!”

“Let’s go,” he said.

She kicked him hard and for a moment, was pleased that it got his attention. But when he turned his furious gaze to her, she could only meet it with her widened eyes.

He took a moment and she could see his struggle to contain himself.

“What you believe is inaccurate. They’re not coming to rescue you, they won’t even touch ground. They are coming to destroy anything that’s left of your aircraft that we could potentially use, and you along with it. Now, if we stand here, we will both surely be shot and killed. I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to come with me now. I won’t leave you here to die. Do you understand me?”

The sound grew louder, but they were still not in sight. She knew it would be another few minutes before they were here.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

He took hold of both her arms and turned her, crushing her side against his chest, holding her in place there. She didn’t understand his intention until his huge hand slapped her bottom hard. It would have thrown her off balance but for the fact he held her.

“Ow!” she yelled, reaching back to cover herself, but not succeeding before the second blow hit. “Stop, what are you doing?”

“Never spanked, I gather,” he said, turning her so she faced him again. “Well, remember this one. Are you ready to do as I say?”

He was a barbarian. They all were—an effect of the poison for sure. She’d scream her head off when the soldiers landed. She was part of an elite group, a specially trained hunter. They needed her, that’s why they’d been dispatched so quickly from Magnus One. This man had it coming to him and she’d make sure she was the one to kill him. Although she’d never killed before, and certainly never at close range.

But for now, he needed to believe she’d do as he said. “Yes.”

He let her go and she rubbed her bottom, her face flushed and hot when she met his gaze. His eyes were a searing blue, dark with specks of bright gold.

“Let’s go,” he said. “If I have to do it again, it’ll be a proper bare-bottom spanking.”

Her mouth fell open.

Taking her by the arm, he dragged her up the ridge.

* * *

Hayden knew this area well. The mountains provided cover and resources to live from and they were able to use the structures still standing in the old towns. He was on his way back from visiting the camp at Moon Bay when he’d received the call about downing the airship, but he hadn’t expected there to be a survivor.

He looked down at his captive. She was young, couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty, he gathered. And pretty, he could see that through the dirt that covered her face and hair. She wasn’t injured, likely a bruise or two, but that was all from what he gathered. It would take a few hours to reach the camp and he didn’t have medical supplies. She’d been lucky he’d been in the area or she’d be dead now.

The first jet came into view just as they made it to the mouth of the cave. He tucked her inside and held onto her, not willing to take a chance she’d run out and lead the soldiers to their hiding place. He’d let her watch just what they, her commanders, were capable of. Let her see how much they cared about her and others like her.

A second, third, and fourth jet followed close behind.

“Let me go,” she said, struggling.

“Watch,” he ordered, only tightening his hold on her.

The jets hovered nearby when the first explosion came. It was a small one, but would have done damage to the intended target.

“That was the badge you wore,” he explained. “It’s set with a small explosive, just enough to kill the person wearing it, that can be set off at any time by your commanders.”