Chapter 12

NATALIA.

Our lips crashed like long-lost lovers reuniting as the ocean water licked our ankles. Our hands explored each other like they did a few nights ago. Urgency, lust, and passion overtook us and then he lifted me and I wrapped my legs around him.

Ever since our first time having sex together, we’d been acting as if we were on a honeymoon or something, locked in our private paradise. No more did I think of this as being in hell but more like heaven.

What would I be doing instead?

Studying.

Trying to find out about serial killers, like I’d been doing when we first met. Maybe fate brought us together because I couldn’t imagine him hurting me.

Not anymore.

“You’re such a tease…” he purred as he yanked off my panties under my dress.

Instead of staying with him, I raced ahead, the idea of him catching up to me and holding me up like a caveman gave me such a thrill. It was a game that we’d both been playing since that first night. It was a mix of his uncontrollable urge to protect and take me at the same time. The idea of having such a hold on him, made me feel like I was the most desired woman in the world. Or on this island. Even if I was the only woman on it, it made me feel special.

We raced in from our walk along the beach.

“We should have just done it on the beach,” I panted as I approached the door.

“It gets all messy, and besides it’s so much better indoors.”

I shook my head. “No. Remember the real reason we went out in the first place was to give my overworked pussy some rest.”

He chuckled as I flopped onto the deck.

“What?”

“We’ve been doing it so much. Too much. And you had sex for the first time only a few days ago.”

“Eight.”

I blushed at the idea of counting how many days ago I’d still been a virgin, but I’d lost track of how many days I’d been on the island. Before it was the most important thing in the world, and now it felt far from relevant.

He crawled on top of me like he were some sort of animal. He’d done it before, but I’d never taken notice of it. Sniffing me. Touching me and then pulling back as if I were a magnet.

“Why do you do that?”

He shook his head like I’d awoken him from a dream.

“What?”

Then he bit on my nipple and I pushed him back.

“Hey, that hurt,” I complained as I stood up. He knew what I was talking about, but as we headed to his room, I could tell he had no intention of answering the question. But curiosity got the better of me, so I repeated myself again. “Why do you act like some kind of…?”

“Dog?” he asked defensively, and his eyes turned dark. I’d killed the mood. I hated myself for the curious side of me, but I wanted to know why he did it.

“It’s sort of like trying to feel every part of you. I want to smell you, taste you. I want to know every part of you. Why you react to certain things. And I’m trying to consume it all.”

Most women would probably be concerned about his confession, but if anything, it made me want to know him more.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I teased as I backed away from him, rushing to his room. His bed was bigger than mine. A queen-size bed and it felt a lot stronger. Just like him. All he ever wanted to do was please me. He knew how to do it, as I continued running my fingers through his hair. He caressed my butt roughly, just the way I liked it. It was as if his life depended on it like he knew I needed to be held with firmness and desire.

The wetness rushed between my pussy walls as he whispered my name between our kisses. Our tongues rushed in and out of each other’s mouths. He used one hand to release his cock and then pressed it against me.

He inhaled a deep breath. Then, he held my arms above my head with one hand and used the other to push his hardness into me. I gasped for air.

“Tomas, don’t stop!”

I gasped as he gripped my butt, as he roughly thrust his hips. I used my arms, to steady myself, whilst meeting each thrust he gave. He looked deep into my eyes as he moved inside me, watching my reaction as he plunged.

“I never want to stop. I want to keep you here forever,” he growled.

I was close to the edge when he changed his rhythm and made it hard and steady. With each thrust, I cried out with joy. He rocked backward, then plunged into my cunt even deeper. I welcomed it.

“Harder!” I yelled as I reached the brink of my orgasm.

“Your wish is my fucking command!” he snarled.

I screamed in frustration as he reduced his pace, making it slower and shallower. He smiled, knowing I was seriously aching. My clit was calling out for his touch, a relief only he could give me. Right now.

He finally picked up speed, moving faster and rocking into me even more. Each time he pumped, I yelled, begging him to pound harder into me until I felt the tingling shoot up my spine, and we both cried out as we came.

We panted and he released my hands. Then, he flopped to the other side of the bed.

“I’m so tired…” I hummed as I grabbed onto his back, and the once rough Tomas became a gentle one as he positioned me so that I could lie on his chest. “You have so many scars on your body. At times I think that I’ve seen them all, then I find more.”

His eyes shifted from mine like I’d touched a nerve.

“My father was a cruel man. He hurt his family whenever had a chance. He seemed to take pleasure in torturing us.”

I hated the way I’d treated him in the past. He was going through so much, and I was the Russian princess who decided to make him feel like crap.

“Don’t think about it. It was all in the past,” he said like he read my thoughts.

I nodded because I knew this, but I was with him, and it didn’t make me feel better. I could sleep for an eternity, I thought to myself as I yawned and my arms stretched over his athletic body.

“Sleep, my darling. When you wake, I will bathe you.”

I was going to ask him where, but tiredness took over, making me feel too weak to ask the question. I loved the way we were on an island with nothing and he wanted to make me feel special. I’d been thinking about this all wrong. He’d kidnapped me and brought me here, not to torture me, but to protect me from someone who wanted to do something far worse to me.

He wouldn’t harm me.

I knew that part for sure. I had nothing to do but enjoy my time with him until this was all over. And that was what I intended to do. Maybe part of me was suffering from Stockholm syndrome because I felt that no matter what I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

I recalled previously that he’d said there was nothing more precious than bathing in the sea, especially at night. We ventured out today, so maybe tomorrow we would give it a chance. Tomorrow was another day in paradise.

I felt so drowsy as if I had been drugged once again, but I knew that I hadn’t as I tried to open my eyes slowly. I no longer felt a warm body next to me. I lifted my head, but I was tired. Exhausted. So many days and nights having sex over and over again, and eating very little, seemed to make me feel weak.

Tomas said he would bathe me, so maybe he went to get it all ready.

But what exactly?

There was no bath in here, just showers. He said something about the sea, and that was it.

I was about to say something, but then I didn’t as I realized that Tomas was at the edge of the bed, and he was talking to someone.

Not me.

But someone else.

Yes, he had a radio. I recalled him speaking on it before, but the conversation back then wasn’t clear, not like it was now.

“I heard you the first time around,” he whispered.

“So, she’s dead!” the eerie voice said over the radio, and I froze.

I closed my eyes, too scared to open them again. Deep down in my bones, I knew who “she” was. They were talking about me.

“No!” he barked and then jumped off the edge of the bed. And as he shifted, I knew that no more was he on the other side of it. Then he abruptly left the room. I waited until his footsteps faded down the hallway and the back door creaked open and then clicked closed. I opened my eyes fully.

My heart raced and my head hurt. Hearing the words being said reminded me of my reality. I wasn’t here on a fucking honeymoon. Tomas wasn’t my boyfriend, nor my fiancé.

He’d drugged me and taken me against my will. All the things that I’d shut out about our relationship suddenly became my reality as I thought about the way he’d treated me over the last few days.

I had to stop acting like some fucked-up, naive twenty-one-year-old who didn’t know her left from her right. Those times had truly been over and done with, now that I knew it really was a question of survival.

Did I want to live?

Yes.

There was only one way that I could do that and it was to get out of here, fast, and that meant only one thing. I had to run. That was the only solution, even if Tomas didn’t want to kill me, whoever he was speaking to clearly did and he could come here and do the job if Tomas didn’t. There had to be a way off this fucking island, and I intended to find it. Or as the guy on the other end of the radio had said, I should be dead.