Part 3 (1/2)

As his focus renewed on the female, erotic heat flashed through him. His c.o.c.k became so unbelievably thick and heavy he had to force himself not to grit his teeth at the s.e.xual torture just looking upon her evoked. Oh the sweet, sensual things he could do to this luscious woman. He couldn't wait to mount her, to f.u.c.k her, to have her.

A cool wind breathed against his heated flesh and he gazed to the western horizon. The sun was setting in a misty veil of pinks and pale blue. Good. They would be making camp soon.

As they'd traveled along the dusty road, he'd been studying the terrain. It was rugged and rocky and an escape over this land would be difficult enough for him, weary from walking all day with no rest stops or water. But for her, the woman in the cage who appeared so delicate, it would be very difficult. Near to impossible in her bare feet.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of leaving her behind. Of going in search of help and then returning to Death Valley to break her out. He dropped the idea immediately. If he left her, the Death Valley Boys would have her in every way the instant she arrived. She would be ruined, emotionally and possibly physically. He didn't want her damaged. He just wanted her.

Escaping with him, she would hurt. Her feet, her body and her p.u.s.s.y when he finally took her. But he would make sure she hurt nice. She would be his.

Tonight.

Blackie was gaining on her! Oh G.o.d, he was going to be on her in minutes.

Anxiety screamed through Kinley as the black-haired, scarred man crashed through the jungle behind her. His heavy breaths ripped through her senses and she swore the heat of his gasps whispered over the back of her neck.

He was that close.

Up until a few minutes ago, he'd kept a discreet distance. Over the past couple of days, she'd eluded his capture and actually enjoyed setting false trails that led him to a river's edge or to a dead end up a tree. But he'd always managed to pick up her trail again. She hadn't expected anything different this time. After all, she'd killed that other man after he'd tried to rape her and Blackie had stood by and watched as she'd been attacked.

At remembering the reason he kept trailing her, icy tendrils of fear raced up her spine, urging her to run faster. If he caught her, she wouldn't have a chance at killing him. He was too strong. Too muscular and oh so powerful.

She didn't want to think about how the knife had sliced into that other man so easily. Didn't want to remember all the blood. She hadn't meant to kill him. Truly she hadn't. She'd been afraid and, well, she'd panicked and reacted in self-defense.

Oh G.o.d!

She was so confused. She'd killed someone, so why didn't it bother her more than it did? The only thing she knew for sure was she needed to stay away from her hunter. He was almost on top of her and she was tiring. Her legs were cramping due to exhaustion, but she grit her teeth against the pain and kept running.

He craved the female Kinley so badly, but he'd held off taking her the night she had allowed him to make her come over and over again. He'd wanted to wait until she was stronger. He'd been so turned-on by the scar on her belly. Aroused by her erotic moans and s.e.xy whimpers. Too turned-on.

He needed to capture her and explain. Hatred had flared in her eyes when she'd caught him watching her after she'd killed. The betrayal he saw had been a severe blow to his system.

He had been out searching for food when the leader had shown up at Blackie's camp. Back in Death Valley, he had warned their leader she would be feisty, perhaps unpredictable. Blackie wished to track her on his own and bring her back already trained. Obviously the leader had decided to join in the hunt after all.

Blackie had returned to camp quickly after hearing her screams. Had come back to find her fighting him off. Defiance raged in her brilliant green eyes as she stabbed her attacker.

He wanted to catch her. To explain. He wanted to keep her safe. To pleasure her. To make her his. Only his.

But after she had stabbed their leader in the heart and he'd died, she had run like a bolt of lightning. He would have gone after her, but tradition dictated he stay with the body. To bring the leader back to Death Valley for all to see, and then to the place of the dead for a proper send-off. After the traditional funeral, he'd come back for her. He'd been hunting her ever since.

His lungs burned with fire as he tried to breathe just a little deeper. Tried to run just a little faster. She was only twenty feet away. Her tired breaths echoed past his ears as she dashed through the dense undergrowth in front of him.

Every few seconds he caught glimpses of her. The fear lacing her heart-shaped face. The splash of silky, curly brown hair that reached mid-back. Her sun-kissed bronze skin.

Until he had found her unconscious, he'd never seen this female before. But he still wanted her despite her being a killer. He hunted her not only out of revenge but also because he enjoyed a challenge and because of his s.e.xual attraction toward her. Maybe the pull was even curiosity. He wanted to see how hard it would be to train her. He wondered how long before she submitted to the desires he would instill in her.

Faster!

Desperation urged him and Blackie pumped his legs harder.

He could smell her. Sweet, succulent, female.

He'd never reacted to a female as he had this one. She was pet.i.te. Shapely. His for the taking. His female.

Yes, he would take her. He would make her enjoy his pleasure no matter how much she fought. No matter how hard she resisted.

His lungs continued to burn from the exertion, but her sweet scent seared more power through him. He ran faster and her fear wrapped around him as he reached out. His right hand clamped over her right shoulder. Her skin was hot, smooth and very inviting as he swung her around.

She was screaming. Falling. Her eyes went wide with terror as she landed on her back. He came down on her, straddled her and, within seconds, held both her wrists captive in one of his hands.

With a rope he bound her wrists, and then threw her arms up and over her head, tying the other end of the rope to a small sapling a foot away from her head.

”Get off me, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”

He allowed her beautiful voice to slice into his bloodstream and loved the erotic way his body hummed with desire. He let her buck and writhe beneath him. Tried hard not to let himself become too aroused as her pet.i.te body ground against his c.o.c.k and b.a.l.l.s. But it didn't take long before he clenched his teeth together with the need to take her here and now.

But the defiant gaze shooting from her eyes gave him pause. This was not a woman who would easily be broken. She would kill him before she let that happen. Just as she had killed their leader.

No, she needed to be primed, seduced.

But first he needed to tell her he had not wished for the leader to attack her. He had meant to train her first.

As she fought him, he couldn't take his eyes from her body. She wore clothing in an unusual way. He was used to females walking confidently in their nakedness or wearing sheer, see-through clothing.

This female had taken his hair blanket. It had gone missing from his camp two nights ago while he'd been swimming in a nearby stream.

She had torn it in two and draped half over her lower body, covering her b.u.t.tocks and p.u.s.s.y and knotting the sides, allowing him erotic glimpses of her tanned hips and thighs.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were covered with the other half and secured by thin strips at her shoulders-strips that appeared to have been sewn by some sort of thin cord. Strips that loosened every second she struggled.

He swallowed past his dry throat and willed those garment ties to open. As if the G.o.ddess of Freedom herself had heard his wish, the strip on her left shoulder popped, revealing the generous curve of her breast and a succulent red nipple.

He shuddered at the erotic sight, remembered how he'd taken those nipples into his mouth while she'd lain deep asleep in her fever dreams. As he peered at her nipple, it mesmerized him into a breathless state.

He blinked in shock as a weapon appeared in her hand. She thrust it at him and he tried to roll out of the way.

He wasn't fast enough.

Intense pain sliced into his upper arm, throwing him totally off balance. One second he was straddling her, the next instant he lay on his back, writhing in the brilliant sparks of red-hot agony, helplessly fascinated by the curvy backside of his momentary captive. She was quickly swallowed by the surrounding lush green ferns.

d.a.m.n! He'd lost her!

Forcing himself to roll onto his good side, he winced at the waves of pain ripping through his upper arm. He managed to stand and curse. The rope lay near the sapling, the end that had bound her wrists...snapped.