Magnate (Acquisition 2) - Page 55

I pushed my legs into motion, ignoring the wave of nausea and aching hurt. My feet were blistered, and my socks dug into the swollen skin. Even so, I hobbled away from my pursuers. The drone flew toward my right, toward Gavin. It had abandoned me. Why? Was I as good as caught?

I tripped halfway down the slope and tumbled into the wet leaves and over a rock before skidding to a stop against a tree. My leg was bleeding. Still, I picked myself back up and kept going.

More yells, this time “Gavin” and “Brianne” added in. They must not have found her yet. I smiled, my chapped lip splitting as I did so. Maybe she would make it.

The sound of an engine grew louder and then died. Voices. They were close.

I stumbled and wrapped my arms around the nearest tree, catching myself before falling again. I retrieved the knife from my pocket, ripping the tape off as I lurched forward. No matter what happened, I would fight. The consequences be damned.

A desperate yell met my ears and then was quickly cut off. Gavin. They had him. I wiped the back of my hand across my face, erasing the tears as I put one foot in front of the other.

I was almost to the bottom of the hill when I glimpsed movement in the trees ahead of me. I stopped, but the multiple voices at the ridge to my back had me moving again. I prayed a deer was in front of me, running from the hunters just like me. I would have laughed at the absurdity of hope, but I didn’t have the energy.

My steps lingered, my feet leaden and my limbs spent. I tripped over a root and caught myself, my hands on my knees as I raised my head and peered through the shadowy trees. More movement. A man strode right toward me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I rose, scurrying back the way I’d come. The man’s steps didn’t falter. He was large and not the least bit winded. He wore the same white mask as the others, the rest of him covered in camouflage.

Blood roared in my ears as I scrambled back up the slope, back toward the grasp of the others. In the open woods, the sun filtering down in orange rays, I was caged. The crackle of leaves and heavy footsteps behind me spurred me faster. I didn’t turn around, only pushed my legs harder. The steps picked up their pace, the thuds growing louder. A scream built in my throat. I turned to face him.

He was only yards away, his large arms swinging as he advanced, my destruction balled into the palms of his hands. I froze. There was nowhere to go, no one to save me. Caught. I held my knife at my side. I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He slowed when he was but steps away, then stopped and stared. His white mask obscured everything but his mouth and eyes. He took another step.

I held the blade out in front of me.

He smiled and shook his head calmly. “Stella.”

I peered into his eyes. I knew them. “Dylan?”

“I told you I’d take care of you.”

“Oh my god.” My knees buckled, and he rushed to me, taking me in his arms before I sank to the ground. The knife tumbled from my hand and landed in the leaves at my feet. “It’s you.”

“It’s me.” He pulled me to his warm chest.

Hope exploded in my heart. “Oh my god.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. I had never felt so grateful in my life. I was blinded by it. “Thank you. Oh my god! It’s you.”

“It’s me. Calm down. Shh.” He moved his hands up and down my back as I clung to him.

“But how?”

“I may have gotten a head start.” He smirked and cocked his ear toward the sound of male voices along the ridge at my back.

I glanced behind me, but they were still out of sight. “We have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t share you. It’ll be nice to have an audience, though.”

I pulled my hands away from his neck as his words slithered around in my mind. “Audience?”

“For the big show.” His hands ventured lower and gripped my ass.

“Dylan.” I tried to back out of his grasp, but he squeezed me to him. “What—”

He crushed his mouth to mine, his tongue stabbing at my lips. Ice trickled down my spine.

I pushed as hard as I could. “Dylan, no!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He pushed his fingers between my ass cheeks, only the thin dress separating us.

Panic rose in me, twisting like a tornado, until I was biting and scratching wherever I could find purchase.

He threw me back and ran his fingers along a deep scratch in his neck. “You fucking bitch.”

Tags: Celia Aaron Acquisition Erotic
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