Owning His Bride (13 page)

“Why are you doing this?” She kept her gaze on his chest, unable to withstand the cold vindictiveness in his gaze.

Hatred radiated from his huge form. He wanted revenge, plain and simple. Revenge against Hunter for snatching Becca away from him, and revenge for losing his service payout and chance to select another Kemmius bride.

“Oh, prisoner, you know why I’m doing this.” He pulled out a knife and smiled, tossing it from one hand to the other as he approached her.

Becca gasped and scooted against the wall. The bindings chaffed her ankles and wrists, digging painfully into her flesh.

Suddenly she was back on Kemmius, back in her small cold prison cell, fearing the pain the warden was about to inflict upon her. She turned her head into the wall, once again wishing to disappear into a crack in the floor. The bed dipped with the weight of his body, and moments later she heard the sound of fabric being shredded.

Her heart thudded. He was cutting off her dress, baring her before he brutalized her. She closed her eyes and tried to go numb, tried to hide inside her head as she often had during the times he ordered her to remove her clothing on Kemmius, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t escape the seriousness of her present circumstances.

He yanked off the shredded remnants of her dress and made quick work of removing her bra and panties, grunting suggestively each time the knife sliced through her undergarments. The muggy air of the cabin clung to her skin and she felt for a moment as if she might suffocate. She turned her head away from him, but he clasped her face and forced her gaze back to his. He wanted her attention on him while he hurt her.

“Breeding already, are you, slut?” The crazed gleam in his eyes shone brighter.

Becca curled into a tight ball, hoping to keep her child safe. The baby inside her was all she had left of Hunter now.

Shaking all over, she tried to maintain her composure and her wits. She didn’t want to go into shock, and she knew the warden wouldn’t show her any amount of sympathy, even if she was crying her heart out. If anything, she knew her tears and her sorrow would excite him, please him, and drive him to inflict more anguish upon her.

He crossed the room and started pulling open cabinets in what appeared to be a kitchen area. Pausing, he winced and touched his left shoulder. Becca watched wide-eyed as he searched through the cabinets, stopping every few moments to clutch his shoulder and mutter a curse.

While he lingered in the kitchen, she scanned her surroundings, looking for something she might use as a weapon. With her hands tied up though, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself very well. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of what she might have to do to convince the warden to free her hands.

The cabin was sparse, containing only a few pieces of broken furniture aside from the bed. Empty liquor bottles were scattered about too. A bag rested against the far wall, perhaps containing the belongings the warden had taken with him from Kemmius. The bag, if she could get to it, was her best bet for finding a weapon. Perhaps he had another knife, or another syringe filled with whatever he’d stabbed into her arm.

“Remember this, bitch?” He turned from the cabinets and grinned.

The strap. Her heart lurched. He was holding the strap, the same strap he’d used on her countless times in the prison. She stared at the implement and a heavy ball formed in the pit of her stomach. She willed this to all be a nightmare and prayed she would soon wake up. But she didn’t wake up, and the warden kept walking closer and closer, until he reached the bed.

He stopped above her and lifted the strap, but his cruel smile soon transformed into a look of agony and confusion. The strap fell to the floor and he once again put his hand across his chest and touched his left shoulder. He collapsed beside her on the bed with a thud, his breath coming in short wheezes. She scooted away from him and watched in disbelief as he struggled, and then after a minute stopped breathing altogether. His lifeless eyes stared up at her.

The warden was dead.

* * *

“Are the sensors showing any signs of a ship yet?” Hunter was frantic and couldn’t stop pacing the bridge of Dr. Mann’s transport. The doctor’s son, Aaron, was at the helm, navigating the ship while they scanned the forest below. At least they had the right island. Dr. Mann claimed the warden’s ship, one that matched the description of a ship reported stolen on the main island days ago, had left a trail of emissions to this large island once renowned for its riverbeds of gold.

“No, he must have the ship cloaked now; however, I’m detecting signs of life on the ground below in a small structure. We’ll land nearby and investigate.” The doctor nodded at his son, who immediately initiated the landing sequence.

Hunter paced faster, stopping only to brace a hand on the wall when the ship jerked forward and descended between the trees.
Please let Becca be all right.

“Correction,” Dr. Mann said with a frown. “There’s only one life sign now. So, someone has just died. Wait! There’s another faint life sign too I’m just now detecting, one I suspect belongs to the baby. If Becca’s gone, we still might be able to save the child, but we must move quickly.”

No. They couldn’t be too late. Not by a mere minute. Hunter refused to believe it and once the ship touched down he was the first one out the hatch.

He didn’t know for sure who’d taken Becca, but he had his suspicions. The warden was their only enemy, the only person who had reason to steal her away.
Please let her be alive.

He raced through the underbrush toward the small cabin. Behind him, he heard the doctor and his son trailing him, shouting something about arming himself. But Hunter didn’t have time; he had to know right away if Becca was still alive. If he found the remaining life sign belonged to her abductor, he would murder the man with his bare hands.

Hunter burst through the door and squinted in the dim interior of the musty, humid space.

“Becca!” He rushed to her, barely registering the sight of the warden slumped on a bed.

She was all tied up and trying to use a knife to cut her wrists free, and the dagger clattered to the floor when she looked up. Her familiar blue eyes shone with happiness.

“Hunter! You’re alive!”

“Oh, God, Becca, are you all right? What happened?” He lifted her chin to inspect her for bruises, then scanned the rest of her body for signs of trauma, and to his great relief didn’t find the slightest scratch marring her soft skin.

She gasped in air and peered at him, her hair in disarray. “I… he…” She paused and looked down on the bed, at the dead warden. “Can we please leave here? I just want to go home.”

“Of course, little one. We can talk later. I just want to know that you’re all right. The doctor is here if you need medical attention.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. He keeled over before he managed to hurt me.”

Hunter surveyed the scene and spotted a strap on the floor, and he kicked the leather under the bed, guessing what had happened. Karma had exacted her revenge in the form of a massive heart attack, and just in time from the looks of things. He removed his shirt and put it on Becca, then swept her up in his arms and carried her outside.

Sunlight splintered through the trees and bathed her face and silken hair with rays of gold. She was alive. His Becca. His beautiful, sweet wife was all right.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he said, overcome with emotion. “I love you, Becca. God, I’m so sorry I haven’t told you that until now. But I love you. If something had happened to you… I…”

She reached up with one hand and cupped his cheek. “I know, Hunter. I feel the same way. I love you too.”

He carried her past Dr. Mann and Aaron, who stood watching from a respectful distance, and strode into the ship and sat with her cradled in his arms.

“I love you so much, Becca, my sweet wife.” He swore to never hold back from her again. She might be a Kemmius bride, but she was the love of his life, and soon she would become the mother of his child. Nothing could break the bond between them, and he vowed to spend the rest of his days proving she meant the world to him.

Epilogue

Six years later…

Becca laughed at the antics of the children on the beach as they tossed a ball back and forth. Her two daughters, Gwen and Katrina, tried their best to teach the youngest of the bunch, her two-year-old son named Matthew, to throw the ball back to them after they tossed it in his direction. Matthew, however, believed it more fun to grab the ball and take off running as the waves lapped at his feet and his older sisters hollered at him to play fairly.

She smiled at the scene and put a hand on her stomach. In about two months there would be another little addition to their family. A fourth child, just like in her dreams.

Hunter strolled down from the house carrying a glass of iced tea. “Drink all of this,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You need to stay hydrated, young lady.”

She accepted the drink and took a sip. “Yes, sir,” she said with mock seriousness.

“Wives who sass their husbands get spankings,” he said, but a smile broke through the stern expression he’d leveled at her, and they both chuckled. Nevertheless, Becca finished her drink while he stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

“Children! It’s time for a snack!” Stella, the part-time nurse, part-time nanny who Hunter had hired to help out during Becca’s recent pregnancy stood in the doorway with a tray of food and drinks. The children excitedly scurried up the beach with gleeful cries to see what yummy snacks were being served today. Stella was a wonderful cook and caretaker for the children, and Becca would be sad to see her return to the main island in a few months. She spent lots of time with her children, but with them being so young and so close in age, it was a godsend to have some help.

“You know,” Becca said to Hunter. “You had a good idea.”

“You mean hiring Stella?”

She grinned. “Yes, that. And inviting other couples to come to the island. It will be good for the children to have playmates, and a real school to attend,” she said, referring to the schoolhouse that was currently under construction a short walk from their house. After all his speeches about living alone on the island away from society, he’d finally relented and invited others to join them, so that they could create their own little perfect community. Other former Kemmius guards had joined them with Kemmius brides, with grand houses spread out all over the island.

Hunter pressed his body harder against hers and trailed kisses down her neck. “I have another good idea right now. Let’s go to the gardens and steal a few minutes of alone time.”

“A few minutes? Is that all you have the stamina for?”

A firm smack to her behind made her gasp, and then Hunter was leading her around the house to the garden, where a clearing between the small cornfield and sunflowers provided the perfect spot for a private rendezvous. She placed her glass on a tree stump along the way and before she knew it, she was pinned on the warm ground beneath him. He slipped a hand up her inner thighs and cupped her mound, nibbling at her lower lip as he did so. Anticipation skittered through her.

“Be a good girl and spread your legs wider, Becca.”

She complied, opening her thighs and inviting more of his touch, and she groaned at the feel of his fingers slipping into her panties to stroke her moist pussy lips. Her center throbbed with desire and she arched into his hand, needing more, needing all of him. She circled her arms around him and pulled him closer, seeking out his lips. He pressed his mouth to hers and took command of the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers and claiming what was his.

She was his, and she was proud to belong to him, proud to be his wife.

“Oh!” she gasped when he shoved two—or was it three?—fingers into her channel. He thrust his digits in and out, while the heel of his palm pressed to her clit. The pressure of his ministrations brought her close to the brink of a release, but he pulled out just before the waves of her pleasure crashed over her. She moaned in frustration and gave him an impatient look.

“If you want me to fuck you, little one, all you have to do is ask.”

She let out a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at him. “You know what I want, Hunter.”

“Well, then ask for it. Ask me to fill you up with my cock. Ask me to pound you hard.”

He teased her for a few more moments, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and pressing his hardness against her, until she finally yielded. Her need surpassed the pride she would derive from resisting him, as usual.

“Please, Hunter,” she said in a breathless plea. “Please put your cock inside me. Please pound me hard. I need you now.”

He tore her panties off in one swift move, the sound of the ripping fabric playing against the usual daytime noises of birds and small mammals coming from the forest a short distance away. After pushing her dress up past her waist, he unzipped his pants and his engorged cock sprang free. He fisted his length and drew it along the dewy folds of her pussy.

“Becca, my wife,” he said. He gripped her hips and shoved deep, pushing into her with one harsh thrust. “Is this what you wanted, you naughty girl? To have my cock inside you?”

She couldn’t formulate a response. She lifted her center and invited each swift thrust he gave her, and she cried out when he began swirling the pad of his thumb over her clit.

Sometimes they were so exhausted from working and taking care of the kids, that they were too tired for more amorous activities during the evening hours, so stolen daytime moments like these were much more commonplace nowadays. She loved it, loved that he still wanted her after all these years.

The pressure of his finger on her clit became too much, and she gyrated her hips and came while he was still rapidly pumping his cock inside her. Not long after she found her release, he stiffened and tightened his grip on her, and then his head fell back and he groaned, his hard staff pulsing inside her as he spilled his seed into her depths.