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Authors: Natasha Knight

BOOK: Captive's Desire
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She raised her eyebrows. “Get me bathed? I’m not a child.”

“No, but I do want to look you over for injuries.”

“I’m not hurt. Besides, you can’t do that by
bathing
me,” she said, incredulous.

“Let’s go upstairs, Olivia. I’m tired and my patience is already thin.”

“No.” She folded her arms across her chest; she wasn’t budging on this one.

“Up.”

“I will not allow this. It’s uncalled for. You took my only weapon, you tore my shirt and destroyed my badge, and the GPS device was on board my ship, not my person. I’m not injured besides a few cuts and bruises—unless you count the beating you gave me, of course, and I think you got an eyeful already,” she said, annoyed at the heat flushing her neck and face. Damn it, she was a soldier. She shouldn’t be blushing! It was a sign of weakness.

He tried not to smile at the last part, inhaled and exhaled, then spoke. “I would hardly call that a beating, but if you prefer, you can spend the night in the cell where Shane and a couple of other men will deal with you. Choose.”

“I hate you,” she said.

“That doesn’t change anything.” He smiled for an instant, but the humor didn’t quite touch his eyes. He then gestured to the ladder.

Olivia stamped her foot and went ahead of him, climbing the thirteen rungs to the second floor with him close behind her. A little too close for her comfort.

Upstairs, there was only the bedroom and a bath. Against the center wall stood a high king-size bed with an ornate iron headboard. A dresser took up the space between the two windows, a tall mirror stood in one corner, and a plush, worn leather chair in another. Hayden went into the bathroom to fill the tub before returning to her.

“Jenna left some clothes for you over there. You can give me your things. We’ll wash and mend them for you, but to be honest, no one will want to talk to you if they see you in uniform.”

“That’s fine because I don’t want to talk to them either.”

“Be nice, Olivia.”

She grunted.

“Undress,” he said, coming closer.

“I don’t have any weapons,” she said, trying to appeal to him. “Do I have to do this?”

“Olivia, I’ve already seen half of you naked and spanked you. And as long as you’re my prisoner, you’d better get used to me looking at you.”

That feeling inside her was suddenly there again, only this time, it came from lower. From somewhere between her legs.

“I do hate you,” she said, reaching to unbutton her shirt.

“Irrelevant,” he said, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was going to watch her strip.

She kept her eyes on him, trying to push down her embarrassment, even as her heart raced and she wanted to run and hide. She tried instead to focus on him. Dirt covered his jaw and face and his clothes were wrinkled. He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up at some point and she could see thick, tanned forearms dusted with dark hair. He was the roughest, most rugged looking man she’d ever seen.

She pulled her shirt off and threw it at him. “Here,” she said.

He caught it in one hand. “Be nice,” he warned.

She sat down on the edge of the bed to pull off her boots before undoing her pants and pushing them to the floor. She stepped out and picked them up, checking the look on his face and deciding to set them on the bed. She then turned her attention to her belly button as she reached back to undo her bra, forcing herself to stand straight as not to allow him to think she was afraid or ashamed. Once the bra was off, she slipped off her panties. She then narrowed her eyes and met his.

“Satisfied?” she asked. “Jerk.”

“Oh, Olivia…” he said, coming closer. “I hope you keep it up. There’s nothing I’d like more than to spank that ass of yours again.”

She was shocked into silence. He grinned and lifted her arm, turning it over.

“Ow,” she said.

“It’s not a deep cut,” he said, running his finger over it. “Any others like it?”

“No.”

“Lie down on the bed on your stomach.”

“No.”

“Lie down.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need to bandage anything up that might get infected. Trust me, you want us to deal with it at this stage, prior to infection.”

“Trust you?” she asked.

“Lie down.”

She climbed onto the bed and lay down, keeping her legs close together. There was a cut on her right calf that she could feel and a few bruises. He touched a few spots on her shoulders and back. She was tender, but that was all.

“This one doesn’t look great,” he said, turning her leg. “Bath is probably ready. Go get into the tub. We’ll get you cleaned and bandaged before I collar you.”

“Collar me? I’m not a dog!” she said, rising to her feet, but not quite knowing what to do with her arms, where to cover up or not.

“Get in the damn tub, Olivia,” he said, this time taking her by the arm and walking her into the bathroom. Once there, he lifted her and sat her down in the deep water.

“Ouch.” Her cuts stung, but she wanted the bath. Wanted soap and warmth.

“Soap’s there,” he said. “Shampoo behind you.”

She looked at him as he turned away, unbuttoning one button and pulling his shirt over his head. He then stripped off his pants and turned back to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off of him even while her brain told her she should fear him.

He smiled. “Having a shower,” he said, slowly peeling off his underwear.

Her eyes darted
there
before she could turn away, her face bright red this time. He laughed.

“Never seen a man naked?” he taunted.

She refused to answer and picked up the bar of soap instead.

“Stay in the tub until I’m out,” he ordered before climbing into the shower.

She submerged beneath the water, closing her eyes. Her brain was working. No, she’d never seen a man naked before. Besides her brother once or twice, but he didn’t look like
that
. What was happening to her? Her body was feeling things and her brain was thinking things she knew were wrong. He was the enemy, after all. When they came to rescue her, she’d kill him. She’d be happy to kill him, in fact. Wouldn’t she?

 

* * *

 

Hayden smiled to himself, humming a tune of music. His cock had gotten hard at the sight of her, had been since she’d stripped in his bedroom. But the look on her face when she’d seen him naked was priceless. Although it was long ago, he still remembered his first days out of Magnus, how his body had reacted once the chemicals they pumped into the air had worn off. No urges, no passions, nothing up or down at Magnus. That was the point of the filtered air the inhabitants breathed. Keep everyone calm, level, obedient. Make them work hard. Control them. He still remembered the first woman he’d fucked after his initial capture by the resistance fighters. He’d been insatiable and she’d been happy to service him. He fisted his cock and slid his hand up and back down along the thick, soapy shaft. The thought of penetrating her tight, virgin pussy only made him thicker, harder. When he’d spanked her, he’d been unable to resist slapping her pussy. She’d been wet, but he knew her brain hadn’t processed it as arousal. It was her body’s natural reaction to the attention. That would all change in the coming days. He switched off the shower and stepped out, taking a towel.

She was submerged beneath the water again, her eyes closed. Suds floated along the surface, but he could clearly see her nakedness, her round, full breasts with their large, pink nipples, the flat of her belly, and the jutting of her pelvic bones.

He wrapped the towel around himself, pushing his erection down and walking into the bedroom to put on a pair of jeans. He didn’t want to scare the girl too badly just yet, but he wanted her. He was a man, after all. Human. He’d take his time with her, introduce her to the many pleasures she’d missed out on, watch her face as her body responded to his touch. She was his, after all. He’d found her; she was his beautiful, innocent prisoner. He’d teach her slowly, let her absorb and see for herself what life outside the domed cities could be like. What being truly and fully human was all about.

He gathered his medical supplies and left them on the bed before going to the bathroom to collect her. She sat in the tub looking for all the world like a child, her fingers curled around her toes, quietly humming the anthem of Magnus One.

“Feeling better?” he asked, holding out a towel for her.

Her expression changed immediately, but she quickly hid the initial fright he glimpsed with something harder. She climbed out of the tub and reached for the towel.

“Can I have a second towel for my hair?” she asked.

He handed her one, eyeing the long mass of dark hair that hung down to the middle of her back.

“Lie down on the bed and I’ll get your bandaged up,” he said.

This time she didn’t protest. Maybe it was the towel she had to cover herself. He disinfected and bandaged both her arm and leg, stretching out the process, making sure she felt his touch on her skin. “Not so awful, wouldn’t you say?”

She ignored him, sat up, and pulled the towel from her hair. “Do you have a comb?”

“Sure.” He returned with one and watched her for a moment as she combed through her hair. She was pretty, her big, curious eyes set wide. The color was somewhere between a very pale, caramel brown to a golden green. Her hair was a dark reddish brown contrasting strikingly against her pale skin. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, the right side deeper than the left, but she didn’t do that very much. At least not yet. And she wasn’t going to when he did what he had to do next.

“Go through Jenna’s things there. There should be something for you to wear to bed. I’ll be right back,” he said, heading downstairs. Shane had left the collar in a box on the dining room table when he’d delivered the food. Hayden now picked it up and, after giving her a few extra moments, he headed upstairs to find her looking out the window, a short white cotton nightie fitting perfectly over her narrow form.

“Come here, Olivia.”

She turned to him. He wondered if it was his expression that made her skin prickle and her nipples harden into dark points beneath the thin white of the nightie.

She walked to him, her expression guarded, cautious.

“Turn around and lift your hair from your neck.”

She searched his eyes, but still didn’t speak. It took her a moment, but she turned and did as he said, exposing her narrow, delicate neck to him.

He’d held the collar in his palm hoping to warm the metal, but when he slid it around her throat, she gasped. He continued, securing it at the back, locking it so she wouldn’t be able to remove it. He slid the small key into his pocket, knowing he didn’t need to collar her. He just wanted to, wanted to let the men around camp know she belonged to him. No one would touch her if they knew she was under his protection.

“It’s done.”

She let go of her hair and touched the collar. He moved to face her.

“There’s a tracking device there so I’ll always know your whereabouts. There’s also a chip that recognizes when you’re near the border of the camp. You’ll not want to attempt to cross the border, understood?” That second part wasn’t exactly true, but it wouldn’t hurt to have her believe it.

She nodded.

“One more thing, Olivia. The collar shows you belong to me. No one will touch you. Once you’re allowed to wander alone, you’ll be safe within the camp as long as you follow my orders.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

He smiled at her. “Go to bed,” he said. He went back downstairs and out the door.

Chapter Three

 

 

The collar circled Livvie’s neck, stiff and constant. It fit like it was made for her, close but not too tight. She wondered if she’d get used to the weight of it at her throat. Although it wasn’t really heavy, just new.

Somehow, she’d fallen asleep as soon as she’d gotten into the bed last night. She’d first gotten in on his side. She knew it because his scent was on the pillow and she’d moved to the other side quickly, turning her back. She’d felt when he’d climbed into bed and although her body had stiffened, she’d been determined to pretend she was asleep. He didn’t touch her; remained on his side in fact. She hadn’t noticed when he’d left in the morning, but he was gone now and sunlight streamed in through the windows. She was alone.

She sat up and touched the collar. It had warmed to her body temperature. She pushed the covers off and first went to peek downstairs to confirm she truly was alone. That he wasn’t just sitting quietly in the living room. She tried the front door, but found it was locked. All the windows too were locked. Outside, the street was deserted, but she could see into what she supposed was the main street where people moved, working their various chores, she imagined. She went back upstairs to get dressed.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror. Her thick hair was still damp from yesterday’s bath, but she could work her fingers through it. The nightie she’d worn to bed fit her well, although it was worn and she realized in the light how little it hid. She pulled it over her head, but remained in front of the mirror. She touched the collar. It was a thick, flat metal with smooth edges. It was locked in the back and just tight enough that she couldn’t turn it. It didn’t look so much like a prisoner’s collar, but more like a piece of ultra-modern jewelry. His words repeated in her mind—his warning about not going near the fencing that contained the community. She wondered what would happen if she did. Would there be an electrical shock? How badly would she be hurt? She planned on escape, or at least to attempt it. He was stupid if he thought she wouldn’t try.

Her eyes wandered down her body and without thinking, she reached to strip her panties off. Nothing had changed, she hadn’t changed, but she felt different. Was it the chemicals she was inhaling now? Was that it?

But he’d said there weren’t any in the air.

He could tell her anything though. She was his prisoner. She had to remember the truth.

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