Captive Souls Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement1

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Pursing my lips, I nodded.

His lips stretched into a large and wicked smile. He lifted his hand to cup my jaw with his large hand.

Then his fingers were no longer working my soaked clit. One of my legs was hitched around his waist, his hand expertly freeing his cock before sending it thrusting into me in one brutal blow. My head would’ve thrown back to hit the wall in pleasure if he didn’t have such a tight hold over me.

Our gazes remained intertwined as he plunged in hard.

“My good girl,” he grunted. “My good fucking girl.”

My world exploded on the next thrust, from the praise, from the expert angle, the pent-up frustration.

All I knew for certain was that against that wall, covered in blood from the inside out, we had the most life-shattering sex I’d ever had in my life

Elizabeth was right.

Humanity was overrated.

Twenty-Four

Piper

After I was showered and changed—with Knox leaning against the sink in the bathroom watching, never taking his eyes off me, as promised—we left the ‘safe house.’

Lukyan and Elizabeth were long gone, unsurprisingly since he and Knox had exchanged death threats. It was also good that they left so they hadn’t heard our loud lovemaking—if it could be called that. But I felt sad that I couldn’t express my gratitude to them both.

I was also hungry for more of their story, to understand how Elizabeth came to be the way she was, how they made it work.

It felt incredibly juvenile to be wanting to talk to two hitmen—hit … people?—about the secrets to a long-lasting relationship, but with the real world rapidly approaching, I was desperate to figure out a way to make Knox and I work. And by rapidly approaching, I was being quite literal. We were driving back to Manhattan.

I’d marinated on that the entire drive back to the city. The villain was dead—one of them, at least—so I assumed I was otherwise safe. If not, Knox wouldn’t have agreed to take me back home.

Regardless, our story wasn’t over.

We weren’t riding off into the proverbial sunset; we were driving toward real life—which I’d longed for at the beginning of my captivity, but now I just yearned for Knox to drive us back to our cabin in the mountains. Reality be damned.

But we couldn’t hold off the world forever. The truth of that was searing and somehow more terrifying than the mob boss I’d just killed. And I was sure that deed would come to haunt me eventually.

The ringing of a phone ripped me out of my daze.

My phone.

I glanced at where the ringing was coming from, the center console. I hadn’t even noticed it.

Knox must’ve gotten it for me at some point. It had been taken an age ago, when he’d apprehended me during my run. I’d assumed he’d destroyed it. Yet there it was.

Though I wanted to know the details of when and how, the name flashing on the screen silenced my questions. My eyes were on Knox as I answered.

“Daisy!” I half yelled, delirious with worry. “Please tell me you’re okay.” She had been in the back of my mind the whole time, but I’d been convinced she was safe. For my own sanity more than anything else.

“Me?” she yelled. No halfway about it. I winced and held the phone farther from my ear. “I’m not the one who was apparently embroiled in a plot to assassinate and overthrow an entire regime.” I could still hear her crystal-clear from that distance, as could Knox.

His hand twitched on the steering wheel.

I wouldn’t have said that I considered Stone’s enterprise to be a regime, but it seemed ill advised to interrupt Daisy. And even hysterical, my sister’s voice was music to my ears.

“I know you take the older sister role very seriously, but this is too far, even for you,” she continued, still shouting. “Couldn’t you let go of the reins for just a moment, and let Knox save the day?” Her tone had lowered, but it still delivered a sting. “I’m sure he was absolutely itching to. I bet you playing hero chafed his horns.”

I didn’t miss the underlying disdain my sister had for Knox, even still.

“Not my style, Daisy,” I told her. “And what if he needed to be saved too? The hero costume is so much more flattering on women.”

I didn’t look at him when I said that. I assumed it was an unwise thing to say, endangering his masculinity or something.

Knox’s hand went to my chin, turning it so I faced him. He didn’t say anything, just cupped my face, watching me for a dangerous amount of time before his gaze returned to the road.

I guessed he wasn’t angry.

My mind whirled with all that went unsaid in that gaze. He didn’t appear to feel emasculated or irritated. He looked … proud. Reverent.


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