Ransom by Callie Rhodes

Chapter Twelve

Breathing in the scent of Gretchen's desire had been one thing. But when she pressed her lips to his, the taste of her rocketed through Ransom like a thousand volts of electricity, and he knew he was gone.

She was everything he'd ever imagined, sweet like raspberries, fragrant like lilies of the valley, spicy like ginger. She was complex and layered and almost too much to take in all at once.

If Ransom had thought he'd sensed everything there was to know about Gretchen Conrad before, one brush of her lips proved him as wrong as a man could be.

And all that was before she slid her tongue between his lips. Listening to her soft cry of need, he knew he'd never solve all of the mysteries of this woman if he lived to be a hundred.

Ransom kissed her back with a fervor that was both familiar and not. All the memories he'd tried so hard to squash during his imprisonment came roaring back—echoes of clumsy teenage lust.

But this was different.

This kiss had all the newness and wonder of his first, but it went so much deeper. The feel of her rushed through his body, making him tremble and stiffen at the same time. A voice in the back of his mind taunted that he was going soft, but Ransom squashed it like a bug. That voice wouldn't be needed anymore.

Besides, he was sinking fast, overwhelmed not just by sensation but what it all meant.

Years ago, Ransom had learned just how worthless words often were. When your nature changed, and you grew a foot and a half almost overnight, people who claimed to be your friend suddenly made themselves scarce. Men who promised they were taking you somewhere safe stripped you naked, locked you in a cage, and tortured you to the limits of your endurance.

The person you loved most in the world, the one who'd promised to have your back forever, winked into nothingness when death came for them.

No, words didn't mean a damn thing.

But actions were another story. They didn't lie. And while Ransom knew that Gretchen didn't yet fully understand the pretty speech she'd made, her searing kiss told him how badly she wanted to believe it was true.

Also—she really fucking wanted him.

Ransom might not have a lot of experience with slick, but it was hard to miss the fact that her panties were soaking wet. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer. If she pulled any harder on his neck, her feet would leave the ground.

So Ransom let his instincts take the wheel. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her like their lives depended on it. There was nowhere to hide in a kiss like this, no veil to obscure who they really were. And seeing all of Gretchen made him want her all the more.

Because giving herself over to him like this laid her very essence bare. She was putting herself in his hands…trusting him to know what to do. Trusting him to take care of her.

To own her.

Fuck, Ransom had no idea where that had come from, but it made his cock so hard it ached. This woman had seen him kill. She knew just how easily he could break her neck and crush her bones.

But somehow, she also knew that Ransom would never hurt her…he felt that certainty at a level so elemental it might as well have been in his DNA. Whatever else Gretchen thought about him, she trusted him with her life.

What's more, the thought of anyone trying to hurt Gretchen—anyone laying a single finger on her—filled him with rage. Thinking of the men who were hunting her turned his vision red—but then Gretchen hooked a leg around his and began to grind against him, and that thought disintegrated into dust.

Random breathed in the sharp tang of her slick, released when she opened her legs. He felt his tenuous grip on control slipping away. He had grabbed her full round ass before he realized what he was doing, ready to wrap her legs around him and back her up against the wall of the cave.

Instead, he bit off a curse, his breath ragged. "Gretchen—"

But she wouldn't be dissuaded. With a whimper of need, she tightened her grip around him. "You were the one who said I should follow my instincts," she murmured between kisses, "Please, don't make me stop."

The pleading tone in her voice set every nerve in Ransom's body on fire, and when she moaned the word "please," he thought he might lose control on the spot. Gretchen was begging for it—and it was the hottest thing he'd ever imagined.

So hot, he almost forgot his promise not to take advantage of her vulnerable position.

"If we keep going, you'll regret it," he warned her.

She tossed her head, lowering her mouth and bathing his neck in a stream of kisses that drove his desire to unimaginable heights. "There has to be something we can do that won't kill me."

Killher? What the hell?

Suddenly, Ransom had the feeling they were talking about very different things.

"Gretchen, I mean that you'll have a hard time being accepted back into beta society after lying with an alpha."

She laughed with relief. "Oh, is that all? I thought you were saying that thing of yours would break me in half."

Ransom sputtered in disbelief. "You're afraid of my cock?"

"Any woman would be."

"You don't need to be," he assured her. "I promise."

"You're awfully certain about that."

"I've seen it. Fulmer brought beta women in all the time for experiments. He'd dose the subject alpha until he was so high the only thing he knew was how horny he was, then throw the woman in." At her look of horror, Ransom rushed to reassure her. "None of them ever suffered, I promise."

At least, not from the physical act. But it wasn't the right time to tell her that they all died anyway—the true betas from a bullet to the back of the head and the dormant omegas from being ripped away from their alphas.

"You've…watched alphas and beta women, um…" There was a strange light in her eyes and a corresponding rush of slick that she probably wasn't even aware of. Ransom palmed his cock for a little relief.

"Many times."

"And did you…" Her face turned bright pink, and she was unable to finish the question.

"No. That wasn't in Fulmer's plan for me." Ransom imagined those pretty pink cheeks, those rosy lips, taking in his cock and groaned. "The only time I touched a woman was to make sure I couldn't spark her true omega nature."

"I'm so sorry, Ransom."

"I don't want your sympathy." No, he craved something much different. "What I want is for you to touch my cock. Now."

He didn't miss the quiver that ran through Gretchen's body at his command. Tentatively, as though she was afraid she might break him, she rested her small, soft hand on his rock-hard shaft.

"Both hands."

Again she obeyed, growing bolder as she stroked him, her eyes as wide as saucers and her breath coming fast.

Ransom put his hands around her waist and lifted her so that she straddled his hips, and kissed her while he slid her up and down his bulge. This was nothing like the dry-humping he'd experienced as a teenager…this was the prelude to something he couldn't live without.

"More," Gretchen cried against his lips, and he was happy to oblige. Holding her with one hand under her ass, he slid the other under her skirt and tore her soaking wet panties off.

She felt like silk and honey. He found her clit with his thumb, and she threw back her head and cried out.

"I'm going to make you scream my name," he told her, and just like that, Gretchen started to come.

He'd never seen anything like it. Hell, he'd never even imagined it could be like this. Somehow, he knew exactly how to touch her, what drove her wild.

He plunged a finger inside her as she ground against him with more strength than he would have guessed she possessed. Her orgasm went on and on, her cries echoing around the cave.

If Ransom didn't know exactly what that bastard Fulmer had done to him, he'd almost think that Gretchen was awakening to her omega nature. But that was impossible.

Right now, though, he didn't give a fuck. Their bodies were reacting as if she was an omega, and that was all that mattered. He'd been pretty sure he could pleasure her, but this—this was beyond his wildest dreams.

It might have been just that Gretchen was the first grown woman he'd ever been with, the first who knew what she wanted and how to get it, whose body was ripe and ready to be taken. Somehow he doubted it.

But this wasn't the time for pondering. "If you don't want to go all the way," he gritted out, "then you need to tell me to stop right now because in about two more seconds, I won't be able to."

"Don't stop," she gasped. "Please, Ransom, please…"

* * *

For a moment, Gretchen was convinced that Ransom was going to pull away, a thought so unbearable that she used all her strength to lock her legs around him. But the word ‘please’ seemed to send him over the edge.

He let out a roar that could have been heard for miles and, still holding her against him, lay down on his back on the cave floor.

He doesn't want me to have to lie on that hard ground,she thought. It was a sweet gesture, but the truth was she wouldn't have cared. She was so desperate for the feel of him that nothing else mattered.

Ransom moved a hand to her breast, teasing her nipple, as she started kissing him again. No man had ever touched her like this, not even when she'd told them exactly what to do. It was like he knew her body better than she did, just one more thing that defied all reason.

A part of Gretchen's mind was still trying to come to terms with what was happening. She was in a cave in the wilderness, for God's sake. She'd just eaten meat cooked over a fire with her fingers. And not only had she somehow lost her fear of a being who had stricken terror in her heart only a day ago, she was about to have sex with him.

I can't help myself, she tried, but her brain called bullshit.

She could stop right now, climb off Ransom and flee to the other side of the cave to gather her wits. Gretchen might not be sure of much at the moment, but she was 100% certain that Ransom wouldn't force himself on her.

But the truth was she didn't want to stop. She'd never felt anything like that orgasm, and already her body was demanding more. What if she never had another chance to get off like this? For the rest of her life, if dating continued as it had, one mediocre encounter after another, she'd never forgive herself. She wanted Ransom’s cock inside her way more than she cared about any consequences.

Gretchen couldn't explain it, but right now, all she could think about was the rumbling in Ransom's chest when he'd ordered her to touch him. "Tell me what to do," she whispered before she could second-guess herself.

"Straddle me," he growled, the look on his face just as predatory as when he'd cornered her by the river, a hungry smirk that was becoming deliciously familiar.

Shaking all over, her pussy throbbing, Gretchen did what he told her, even though his hips were so wide her knees barely reached either side. She'd never felt so wide open.

"Now show me that pretty cunt."

Slick gushed from her, a startling sensation. Even more shocking was how good it felt. Gretchen slid her fingers over her swollen pussy lips and spread the slick over her clit, watching Ransom watching her. When he caught his breath and bit his lip, she slowly parted the outer lips and displayed herself for him.

"Goddamn," he breathed—and Gretchen knew she had never received a better compliment. "Give me a taste."

Gretchen bowed her head submissively and plunged her fingers into her opening, coating them before placing them lightly on his lips. He sucked at her fingers greedily, his chest rumbling. She couldn't believe what was happening—this was dirtier than any fantasy she'd ever had—but it also felt…right. As though it was exactly what was meant to be.

But she needed more. Gretchen rocked her hips against him, trying to get some relief from the friction.

"Patience, little girl," Ransom rasped, grasping her hips to hold her away from him, tormenting her. "Tell me what you want. What you need."

"I—n-need—"

Gretchen had never been one to talk dirty in bed. She told herself it was because she needed all her concentration to bring herself to orgasm. Now, even though she was one hard grind from coming again, she suddenly felt shy.

"Tell me." Ransom's voice seemed to have dropped an octave, vibrating through his skin to her body.

"I…want you to make love to me."

Ransom laughed. "No, you don't. You want me to fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked before. Say it."

Gretchen was rapidly losing control, each word out of his mouth tightening the spiral of lust deep in her belly until it felt like the slightest touch would unleash an explosion stronger than the one that had taken out Ransom's prison.

"God, yes, I want you to fuck me. I want that huge cock inside me. I want you to take me and—"

Without warning, Ransom lifted her over the head of his cock and rammed her down forcefully. Not all the way—he was so unbelievably big—but past her opening, stretching her further than Gretchen had believed possible.

There was a split-second of pain followed by the most incredible sensation of being filled, his cock hot and throbbing—and still Gretchen wanted more. She wanted all of it, but she seemed to have lost the capacity for speech. What came out of her mouth as she writhed in an effort to take more of him in was language nonetheless, the primordial language of mating.

Ransom matched her rhythm and eased her slowly down his shaft, teasing her, making her wait until finally, with one last thrust, he reached her limit. "Is this what you wanted? My huge cock inside your little pink pussy?"

"Yes, yes," Gretchen cried. "Fuck me like this, don't stop—"

Abruptly Ransom pulled out.

"I'm in charge," he muttered into her neck just below her ear while his fingers dug into her hips, holding her just out of reach, igniting not fear but a shiver of dark desire, unlike anything Gretchen had felt before. "Don't forget that. You don't get to tell me what to do…because I already know. I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you when I'm good and ready."

And then she was in the air, being effortlessly lifted up in Ransom's arms as he suddenly stood. He took her to the mouth of the cave before setting her down on her knees. She barely felt the sharp scratch of the weedy brush against her skin as she gazed out at the valley, the steep incline inches from where her hands rested. It was terrifying to be so close…and yet Gretchen knew that Ransom wouldn't allow her to fall.

It was that trust—that certainty—that added yet another layer to the complex stew of emotions that made this sexual encounter unlike any other in her life. But thoughts like those, borne of intellect and reason, were rapidly losing the battle with the only thing that mattered.

"Please," she gasped, her teeth chattering with anticipation.

"That's better," Ransom growled. "You can beg all you want, but I'm the one who decides what you need and when."

And then he slapped her ass.

Twice. Two hard, stinging blows with no chance to recover before he entered her again, her engorged cunt tightening around him, pulsing, already on an unstoppable course to her next orgasm. Ransom pounded Gretchen hard, and yet not hard enough, and the whole time he held her securely high above the valley floor.

When she crested the top, a tremor went through her, trailing ecstasy in its wake. Another and another, wave after wave. Her vision fractured and drifted. It was as if she was soaring above the valley, a raven on a current that dipped and dove into a sea of ecstasy, and she was not afraid.

She felt as though she would never be truly afraid again.

When the orgasm finally neared its end, rocking her gently like a feather drifting down to earth, Ransom thrust one more time and gave a mighty roar. Gretchen could feel him coming inside her, his hot seed filling her, his voice carrying as far as she could imagine.

But even after he was spent, he remained inside her…and a new sensation bloomed at their union. It began as a gentle pressure, then grew, swelling until neither of them could deny its presence.

It couldn't be…could it? Ransom said Fulmer's experiments had stripped him of his ability to truly mate—to fill and knot his woman.

And she wasn't an omega.

After a few seconds, the pressure inside her waned, and Ransom was able to slip out of her. Giving an exhausted sigh, he leaned back, cradling her against his chest.

"Holy fuck," he muttered against his ear.

Gretchen couldn't hold back. She had to ask. "Was that—?"

"No." The sharpness of his voice took her aback. A moment later, he added, "Maybe. I don't know. But it can't…"

He released her from his arms. His cock was still engorged, glistening with her slick and his seed.

Gretchen knew she ought to leave the subject until he wanted to talk about it—but the journalist's curiosity in her wouldn't let her. "That couldn't have been your knot because I'm not an omega. Right?"

Ransom didn't answer for a moment. He was turned half away from her, his brow furrowed in thought. "It wasn't a real knot," he finally said. "But it wasn't not one, either. I mean, it was definitely something."

How would he know if it was real or not?Gretchen thought. This was his first time as an alpha, after all.

"I'd know," he said, reading her thoughts. He wasn't defensive, and that was what made Gretchen believe him. "Besides, Fulmer took that away from me. The ability to turn a woman. An omega."

But the bitterness that was present whenever he spoke of Fulmer was overshadowed by something else. Something awfully close to wonder. For a moment, he seemed on the edge of deciding something momentous—but then he shook his head and got to his feet.

"It's just that it's been so long since I've been with anyone," he said without looking at her. "My body is confused, that's all—it's releasing tension any way it can." He wrapped an arm around her and led her back into the belly of the cave. "Come, let's get some rest."

Ransom lay her down and wrapped himself around her, shielding her from the cool night, his heart's steady rhythm lulling her to sleep.

But before she drifted off, Gretchen had an unsettling thought. She was one hundred percent convinced that Ransom would never lie to her…but she had a feeling she had just witnessed him lying to himself.