Abducting His Mate

Chapter 1

Don’t move.

The rough whisper burrowed into Hannah’s deep sleep, forcing her eyes to pop open. The words could have been part of her dream if not for the hand covering her mouth and the heavy warm body pinning her to her own bed.

Instinct and adrenaline made Hannah do the opposite of his command. She jerked, squirming against the heavy body pressing her into the mattress. Completely in vain. Her small frame was no match for the size and strength above her.

Fear tunneled through her system as she tried to catch a glimpse of the figure constricting her movements. The night was too dark. Even with the blinds open, no moonlight filtered through the window.

There was no doubt her assailant was a him. His mouth hovered millimeters from her ear, his longish hair tickling her cheek.

A slight shift caused his hand to press against her nose. She couldn’t breathe. Oh, God. Is he going to suffocate me?

Shit, sorry. The rough palm covering her face eased down an inch, still firm across her mouth, but freeing her nose. She sucked in precious air. I know you’re scared. I’m not here to hurt you.

Right. As if she believed that. She trembled. Her worst nightmare had come to fruition. Her mother had always warned her about predators just like this one. A little too often.

Fight or flight kicked in and Hannah again used all the strength she had to wiggle against the enormous body restraining her. She was truly trapped, her arms and legs beneath the cover of blankets and sheet.

Relax. Please. Your heart is beating out of your chest. I swear I’m not here to cause you harm. Warm breath tickled her sensitive ear, heightening her awareness of the man on top of her. Something about his tone made her pause in her struggles. Soothing. The pitch of his voice called to her on a primitive level.

Hannah froze. Her breath held, partially by design and partially out of fear.

A deep inhale chilled Hannah to the bone. His strong masculine scent filled the room. Hannah’s body stiffened. She’d always been exceptionally sensitive to smells, but this…this attacker…somehow appealed to her on a…sexual level.

Damn. Her body reacted to him of its own volition. Her pussy clenched, an attempt to hold back the moisture sure to pool between her legs and give her away. Except that was crazy. Hannah knew others didn’t have the unique ability to smell a person’s arousal. She could tell when a man was aroused, even from a distance. Even when he was fully clothed.

Nevertheless, she squeezed her legs together while her jaw tightened and her traitorous nipples pebbled beneath the arm draped across her.

If only he would release her mouth. At least then she’d be able to breathe freely without using her nose. No, it wouldn’t completely block the man’s scent—even through her mouth she’d be able to taste his essence on her tongue—but it wouldn’t be as powerful as the reaction she got from her nasal passages.

Why now? Why on earth would her body react like this to someone trying to kidnap or rob her? Or worse, rape her. What was wrong with her? Was it his scent alone? Or was her body simply turned on from being held captive? The thought repulsed her.

If I move my hand, I need you to promise you won’t scream. His grip loosened slightly.

Anything. She’d do whatever it took to keep her physical reaction to him tamped down to a minimum. As if such an idea were possible. It might already be too late. She started to sweat.

Minty breath blew across Hannah’s nose at an interval so regular it was hard to believe he was so calm, seemingly completely in control. Wouldn’t an attacker be…nervous…stressed? He was neither of these things.

Their eyes met inches away through the darkness, her vision only allowing the vaguest first impression in the darkness.

And then he moaned, laid his forehead against hers and breathed out a soft, fuck.

Startled, Hannah began to writhe beneath him, realizing too late the friction only made things worse. Her nipples tightened and ached under the gentle grip of his forearm. Gentle?

The man snapped up his head, turned his face to the side, and inhaled deeply before exclaiming louder, fuck.

He gripped her tighter, his body rigid above her. And damn if she didn’t find herself wanting him to move.

Anything. Any movement would help against the ache building inside her.

What the hell are you thinking, Hannah? The man is probably a rapist. He’s certainly not here for a social call.

Sorry, he muttered. His heart beat faster against her. Shallow breaths from only his mouth made her question her sanity. As if he too was affected by her smell.

It wasn’t possible. Was it?

An occasional sexual awareness had driven her closer to certain men. None, however, had ever elicited this level of desire. None had made her…want. Need.

Please, he pleaded, just don’t scream, okay?

His hand slowly edged away from her mouth. Hannah froze, unable to scream even if she’d wanted to.

He was big. His weight heavy on top of her. She should have felt squashed instead of wanting him to press closer.

What do you want? she managed to squeak from between dry lips that barely moved.

I’m…I need you to come with me, he implored.

Her head began to shake ever so slightly back and forth. No! Never let them take you to a second location. Her mother’s words haunted her. She had sat her down at least once a year while Hannah was growing up to warn her against strangers. Please God.

My name is James Morgan. He cleared his throat of the graveling frog. She wished he hadn’t. Your father sent me. He paused. Held his breath.

My father? Hannah whispered. I don’t have a father. And if I did, I don’t think he’d want someone to kidnap me. You—you’ve got the wrong person.

James stared intently at her with dark eyes. You’re the one. He took a deep breath and shuddered from head to toe. Listen, Hannah. Your father, he isn’t dead. That’s just a story your mother concocted to keep you from—

Don’t. Don’t even think about badmouthing my mother. And get off me—right now. Hannah strained against him, not gaining an inch, her traitorous body wishing the barriers between them would vanish so she could feel his warm flesh against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her throbbing pussy to comply with her demands.

I’m sorry, he muttered, his lips extremely close to her own. I’m sure she had her reasons. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know your father. He’s a wonderful man. You’ve been gone a long time, Hannah. It’s time to go home. He cupped her cheek with the hand he’d removed from her mouth.

Moments passed. They shared shallow breaths with each other. Hannah breathed in James’s essence, her entire being intertwining with his. What was happening to her?

As if in slow motion, he leaned toward her mouth until their lips touched. He brushed gently back and forth, soft, warm. Hannah willed him to inch closer, unable to imagine another moment alive without knowing the taste of James, a man she could barely see. Dark hair hung loosely around the edges of his face. His hard body was twice her size. He had one leg bent at an angle and crossed over her entire frame to hold her still, forcing her legs tight together when she was nearly going crazy with the need to spread them apart.

Finally, James tipped his head slightly to one side and pressed his mouth into hers. Her mind screamed stop. This was wrong. She didn’t know him. But her body relaxed into his tender touch as he nibbled around the edges of her lips. After a thorough exploration of the outside of her mouth, James’s kiss grew more urgent, forceful, demanding. Almost rough. And dammit if Hannah’s own lips didn’t go along for the ride, enjoying his taste as his tongue teased the outer edges of her mouth before dipping inside.

Soft moans filled the air, but damned if Hannah knew who made them. It was madness.

Minutes passed. Her brain was entirely befuddled. Her only focus was on the most arousing, intense kiss of her lifetime. James licked and explored every crevice he could reach with his tongue, and Hannah was unable to stop herself from following suit.

He tasted like peppermint from some sort of breath freshener. Did kidnappers always freshen up before breaking and entering?

When James let his hand travel down Hannah’s neck to land in the V of her nightgown just above her breast, she jerked.

Stop… She hated herself for sounding so needy, aroused. Wanton. Her word had no force behind it.

Hannah, I… He pulled back from her lips only a centimeter, let his forehead lean against hers. Gasped for air. My God. Your father’s going to kill me.

My dead father? She couldn’t catch her breath. "And