Unleashing the Storm by Sydney Croft Page A

the
fine bones that ran along the side of her trachea, knew it would take only the
pressure from one of his fingers to finish his job quietly and cleanly.
Humanely. So easy to end this job now, probably was the right thing to do,
because his gut told him that Kira didn’t have a cooperative bone in her body
when it involved anything other than her heat cycle.
    “You’re
all alone in this great big world, Chastity. So many people looking for you.
The government, the police, the men who tried to take you away in a van outside
of Memphis,” he said, and she whimpered. “Who’s going to take care of you now?
Your animals can’t protect you forever.”
    “Stop
calling me Chastity. And don’t call me Charity either. It’s not my name
anymore.”
    “Why?
Did you change your name legally?” he taunted her. “Oh, right. No way to do
that when you’re a wanted woman.”
    “At
least I’m not a killer,” she said.
    “Not
that they’ve proven. Not yet. And time’s running out.” His fingers itched with
the urge to do something, but he stayed motionless on her, his elbows propped
on the grass and pressing her immobile arms against her own body, his thighs a
deadweight on hers. His cock strained against his shorts, throbbed against her
with a life of its own, something he couldn’t have stopped no matter how hard
he tried.
    Her
heart beat against his, faster than when she’d first taken the drugs. Her
metabolism, and her urges, were headed into maximum overdrive.
    “Are
you going to turn me in?” she asked.
    You
wish, honey. Especially if she knew
the alternative.
    “What
if I did? Would you let a police officer take you, right there in your jail
cell, with all the guards watching?”
    “It’s
happened before.” She shuddered and closed her eyes, and when she opened them,
her gaze clung to his, pled with him. “Don’t do this to me. Please, Tommy, just
stop it and let me go.”
    “I
can’t.”
    “You
won’t.”
    “Same
difference.”
    She’d
started to panic, turned her head from side to side, and it wasn’t his
imagination that she was starting to gain strength. It wouldn’t be enough to
buck him, but things were intensifying.
    He
wasn’t going to kill her tonight.
    “How
about I take the choice away? Will that make it better?” he asked.
    “No,”
she whispered, but he didn’t believe her, could smell her scent, her raw desire
rising up in the night air. “You don’t understand my needs. They’re too much
for one man to handle. You’ll never be able to keep up with me.”
    “I
think I’ll do just fine. As long as you obey.”
    She
shifted under him, tried to stop herself from rubbing against him. “Obey? I
don’t obey anyone or anything but my needs,” she said, and Jesus, she was
actually, honest-to-God purring while she lay trapped underneath him.
    “You’re
going to have to start if you want to stay alive,” he said, but his words had
stopped registering with her.
    “Don’t
move. I like your weight on me,” she murmured, and the low rumbled purring
started again in her throat, vibrated through his entire body. She groaned
throatily and thrust her hips against him.
    “ Obey is the key word here. Don’t think I won’t take you over my knee, Kira.” His
voice was rough with that promise, throbbed with a lust that shot straight
through her. “Don’t think you won’t love it—bare-assed, submitting to my every
single whim.”
    She
sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth because, dammit, she needed him,
wasn’t going to be able to stand it much longer if he didn’t take her every way
he possibly could, and soon. It didn’t matter who he was or what he’d done. All
that mattered was the way he made her feel.
    She
never thought she’d need a killer to save her life.
    “I’ve
got to get out of here,” she whispered, clawed frantically at him, tried to
tear away. But the combination of his skin on hers, his scent, the inherent
command in his voice…
    She
wasn’t going