Stolen Dove: Stolen Hearts Series Blake, Carina (e reader books .txt) 📖

even because I like the guy. Maybe it's because I don't want to do without that dick and mouth of his. They're like magic, and his touch makes my body hum.

He takes my hand in his, holding it like we're a couple. "Not exactly, but in my world, most people aren't your friends."

"That's fine. It's not like I have any friends anyway," I grumble.

"Things aren't as bad as you think, Dove." He grazes my chin with his finger, and I want to bite it, to suck on it. I don’t know what I want because the man makes me crazy.

"Yeah, says the man who essentially kidnapped me,” I say, lashing out.

"You came willingly as I recall. It's not my fault that they slipped you something, which I didn't know until I realized that you slept too long." He does have a point. As far as he knows, I could have just been full of lust and eager to get away from my father. I was eye-fucking him from across the room like the rest of the women in the place.

"Whatever."

His phone buzzes, and he answers it. He's speaking fast in Spanish, so I just ignore it because fuck if I know what he's saying anyway. I failed Spanish in school.

"It's time to go, esposa."

"What does that mean?"

"Wife."

I sigh with a hint of disgust like I don’t like it, but that’s a lie because my body is alive with desire from just the sound of his voice. He leads me out into the dark of night. I look up and see the stars are beaming. It’s beautiful.

"And warmer than New York,” I add.

"We do have a slightly warmer climate here. Please be careful." As soon as we hit the last step, I find myself in his arms and I gasp. "I completely forgot about what you're wearing."

"Just your shirt and my panties."

"Yes. I just saw your ass. I refuse to have others see you like this. Your body is for my eyes only."

He helps me into the back seat and then removes his sports coat, placing it over my legs. I look at him like he's crazy.

"There's still a rearview mirror in here." He's serious about anyone seeing parts of me. I don’t know how to process all of this.

His phone rings and he answers it, smiling as he speaks to a woman on the other end. I pretend that I'm not bothered or trying to listen, even though I don't understand most of what they’re saying. The only thing I pick up is the basic yes and no. Damn it. All my life I’ve felt alone, and now the painful reality that this will always be my life suddenly feels like more than I can bear.

I turn my head and stare out the window as we pass the city lights and move into farmland, holding back my tears. It's quiet and dark, something I never experienced while in New York. I hated the city because of the hustle and bustle and the money required to enjoy the benefits the city had to offer. I always wished to move out, and here I am. Instead of being happy, I wish for the noise of the city to drown out my thoughts of my fake husband and his plans for making his heir.

I have a million questions, but as soon as he hangs up with one caller, he takes another. Then he shoots off messages. I want to scream and jump out of the moving vehicle, but what good would that do me? I'll have to find a way to escape later. Right now, I'll do my best to be the obedient woman he's hoping for. When the time is right, I'll make a break for it, although I'll need to get a hold of some of his money first. I wonder how hard that will be.

"Planning your escape?" he whispers. I spin so quickly with wide eyes that I'm shocked when he's inches from my face.

"No,” I lie.

"Bullshit. I see the wheels spinning in your head. You can leave. Fernando, para por favor." He pulls over on the side of the road. "You can go." He leans over me and opens the door.

"Where can I go? I've nothing but your shirt on my back."

"That's not my problem. Do you want to run out practically naked, or are you going to behave and come along like a good wife?" He’s pissed, and I haven’t even threatened to leave.

"I'm going with you, aren't I?" I sneer.

He nods and closes the door. "Let's go," he says, tapping Fernando's seat.

He has a self-satisfied smile on his face like he's proved a point. Asshole.

He leans in, making me shiver as his breath kisses my neck. "Wife, it's probably for the best that you keep those thoughts to yourself. I might be an asshole, but I'm your husband. I expect you to respect me in front of my men. Comprendes? Understand?"

"Yes,” I huff.

"Good." His lips brush my pulse, and my heart picks up its pace. "You may hate me, but your body knows a good thing when it feels it. I can't wait to slip my cock deep inside you again. I have a feeling you want that too." He swipes his tongue up my neck as his hand skims over my thigh. I can't hold back the moan. As soon as I do, he backs off and straightens up.

I do my best to pretend that I'm not offended. I roll my eyes for the thousandth time in the past day and scoff. He grasps my chin hard. "I want you this second, but I refuse to let anyone hear or see your pleasure. You belong to me and me alone." He kisses my cheek and lets go. I turn to face the window to hide my smile.

I may hate him, but I hunger for his hands and body on me, doing dirty things until I’m screaming for release. My pussy's humming, aching for more. Even when