If he chose to push that arousal b.u.t.ton on the box he continued to hold in his hand, she would likely lose her mind in the biggest o.r.g.a.s.m of her life.

While walking, she'd become highly sensitized to every part of her s.e.x. Had become, she was sure, addicted to the wicked shivers zipping through her heated body. She found it odd that she was able to tolerate the clamps. Something deep at the back of her mind told her the clamps weren't supposed to be worn for this long a period due to the dangers of pinched nerve endings and cutting off blood supply. But hey, instead of hurting, she was being pleasured.

Since he had access to the electronic device, he must have access to other state-of-the-art devices such as harmless clamps, which certainly was a good thing.

She'd also discovered he was a magnet-her gaze stayed riveted to the backside of him. Mostly everything was covered by the huge burlap knapsack he wore, but she found herself concentrating on his exposed parts. On his powerful legs. On the bunch of muscles that bulged in his upper thighs as he walked...as well as his rock-hard a.s.s-all of which were darkly tanned from the sun.

From what she could see, there were no tan lines for this hunk. No siree. Just pure skin and muscle, which flexed magnificently with his every move. Those electrical sparks of arousal amplified at the thought of spending the oncoming night with him-embers of excitement she should not be having for her captor. Yet she was having them and, since she had no memory of who in the world she was, she may as well just go with it.

He moved them faster now. Urgently tugging on her collar, making the carnal sensations shimmering through her increase as they finally reached and began to climb the rocky incline. The rubbing of her c.l.i.t, the pulling of her l.a.b.i.a and nipples reminded her of his hands touching her.

If she had the chance, she'd be writhing, bucking her hips and finger-f.u.c.king herself into sensual oblivion.

d.a.m.n him! She needed to get herself off or she'd go mad!

In order to keep her mind from totally falling into a s.e.xual haze, she counted the cracks of thunder to determine the distance of the storm.

One steamboat, two steamboats, three steamboats....crash. One steamboat, two steamboats....crash.

"Move faster. We are almost there!" he shouted as the roar of the wind began to pummel them. It was getting dark really fast and the first real flickers of fear grabbed hold of her.

If I go any faster, I'll be a useless, o.r.g.a.s.ming ball of flesh, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!

She wanted to shout at him, but she kept her thoughts geared to counting and observing the storm. The clouds were bruised with purple and black. They looked incredible.

"It is an acid storm! Hurry!" he growled, and then suddenly he stopped. His fingers went to her cuffs and he released her hands. Yes! Free!

Quickly, he grabbed her right wrist. "Do not try to run. You will die. You must follow me!"

In that brief instant, she caught his gaze. Fear shone in his eyes and it seared straight through her too. The son of a b.i.t.c.h was telling her the truth.

He yanked at her and literally had her flying over the boulders. Had he said acid? As in burning acid? Like, she must have heard wrong. Right?

Something hot and painful seared her upper right arm. She yelped in disbelief as a quarter-size part of her flesh bubbled and became red. Oh my G.o.d! He was serious.

She picked up speed, her s.e.xual haze now forgotten.

A couple more shots of hot pain sliced into her arms. One on her upper thigh. Burning flesh a.s.saulted her nostrils. She swore when a blue spark snapped off his knapsack.

Oh s.h.i.t!

Then another blue spark...and another.

Holy c.r.a.p!

The wind screamed all around them, its fingers tangling in her hair. Her scalp burned as the wind painfully pulled on the strands. The odor of burning hair permeated the air and she fought the rise of panic.

She needed to stay strong, force herself to remain as cool as a cuc.u.mber. And she needed to follow his instructions.

He'd stopped again and was shouting something at her, but d.a.m.ned if she could hear above the roaring wind. A couple of hot blasts of steamy air almost knocked her over, but thankfully he grabbed hold of her and steadied her. Then he let go and struggled to get something out of his knapsack. When he drew out a large, very thin, fur blanket-similar to the one she'd stolen from his sack-and draped it around her shoulders, she understood. Her hair had the possibility of catching fire. Not good.

"Over your head! Follow me!" he shouted.

"What about you?" she screamed and thrust the blanket toward his hand. But he'd already turned around and slung the sack over his back again. He started moving them up the hill.

d.a.m.ned male! They never listened anyway.

Pulling the blanket over her head, she followed him.

More blue sparks snapped off his knapsack. More odors of burning hair. Parts of the sack started smoldering.

She yelped as pain bit her ankle, but the rest of her was well-protected as she held the amazingly light fur blanket over her head and shoulders.

Thunder cracked overhead and sparks of white lightning zipped off a nearby boulder. Well, so much for her cuc.u.mber coolness. It disintegrated and panic began to grab a firm hold.

What if they burned to death? Dear G.o.d, what a h.e.l.l of a way to die! And she meant h.e.l.l quite literally.

Oh stop with the bad joke, Kinley.

Hot air seesawed painfully through her nose and into her lungs. Darkness and lightning wrangled for control. Blue sparks fought with white sparks.

It seemed as if they were climbing forever. Her legs grew tired, her hand clutching the fur loosened and she almost lost the blanket a couple of times. But thankfully, sometime along their way up the rocks, he'd grabbed hold of her other hand. It was a rea.s.suring gesture. Her lifeline to another human being. Someone who might actually give a s.h.i.t if she died here.

Suddenly he stopped, turned and cursed at the sky. The anger in his dark eyes frightened her. His hot hands slipped around her waist, and then her feet flew off the ground as he swept her into in his strong arms and began walking again.

Her weight would slow them down and she struggled to get out of his arms.

"Hold still!" he growled with anger.

"I can walk!" she insisted.

"The rocks grow hot. You have no footwear. I do."

Okay, she got the message. Charbroiled feet were not on the menu tonight. Thank goodness, he did care!

White and blue sparks zinged off the rocks like a display of fireworks had been set off right in front of them. It would have looked pretty had she not been so d.a.m.ned scared.

Then the rain came screaming along the rocks behind them.

Hot stabs of rain pelted her exposed feet and she bit back a scream as she envisioned her feet burning off. Then a cold flash of air swept away the humidity and the fierce winds stopped. The storm suddenly seemed far away as he carried her inside some sort of shelter.

"Where are we?" Her voice echoed as she gulped madly at the fresh air, inhaling it deeply into her tortured lungs.

"A cave," he answered.

No s.h.i.t.

In the damp darkness his breaths erupted, hard and heavy. His body heat wrapped around her curves. The safety of being in his arms disappeared as he set her down on a carpet of soft, cool moss.

Oh very nice, and her sore, tired feet totally appreciated the carpet.

"Do not move until I light a fire," he said softly. "There are holes here to fall into and there may be dangerous animals that have also taken refuge."

Holes? Animals! Yippee. Lovely vacation spot.

Her heart beat a mile a minute as she gazed at the yawning opening of the cave. Shivers of dread screamed along her frayed nerve endings as white lightning forks flashed just outside. As the thunder boomed, the moss trembled beneath her feet.

Was that acid rain on fire? Streaks of orange zipped by in an almost sideways movement. Thankfully it didn't enter the cave.

She held the fur blanket tighter around her body, looking for comfort as the cold dampness chased away her body heat. Somewhere deeper in the cave-from the blackness-came a shuffling. How the h.e.l.l could he see anything?

Relief washed through her as a welcome orange glow erupted on the nearby ground. More flames rose, and then there was enough light. He'd lit a fire.

"You've been here before," she said, understanding.

He nodded in the firelight.

"So you know exactly where we are?"

Again, he nodded. He shrugged out of the knapsack and reached into the nearby darkness where he produced more firewood. He piled the sticks onto the fire. The flames grew and crackled, giving off more light. Against a wall was quite a huge heap of wood as well as layers of bark.

"The wood is damp, but dry enough to stay lit. The smoke escapes out of a small crack in the rock above so we have fresh air. Come closer to the fire and warm yourself," he ordered.

The male gruffness was back in his voice, the earlier softness gone from his features. As she moved to the fire, pain burst where the acid rain had hit a few spots on her arms and legs. But she welcomed the lovely heat from the fire as it splashed around her body.

"Here is salve for the burns." He handed her a small, wooden container about the size of her palm. He'd removed the lid and inside was a light-colored cream.

"We keep cream here in case," he explained.

The fire snapped and hissed as he tossed more wood onto it. The sparks, floating delicately upward, moved quickly to a two-inch-wide and about ten-inch-long crack in the otherwise solid ceiling.

"Put the healing cream on now as it works better and faster when you put it on right away," he said and stood, towering over her.

Gosh, but the man was a giant.

"What about you?" In the soft glow of the firelight, blistered burn marks laced his legs and arms.

"I have experienced worse."

Oh dear. Mr. Tough Guy, huh? Okay, Kinley girl, rein in your compa.s.sion for him. Rein it in. You aren't wearing a collar and slave chain for nothing.

"While I am gone, do not venture out of the cave. You will not last long out there."

That's for sure. Streaks of orange continued outside the opening.

Without another word, he disappeared into the dark cavity behind her.

Kinley did as he instructed and began dabbing the cream onto her fiery blisters. Who was she to argue with the guy, anyway? Defying him and not putting on the cream would only hurt her and anger him. Not that she wouldn't want him angry as h.e.l.l when he f.u.c.ked her.

If he f.u.c.ked her.

If. If. If.

If she let him. No, when she let him. That is...when he begged. Yeah, he had to beg first and then she'd crack.

All too quickly, the man returned and with him so did her arousal. Okay, so he knew how to train a woman to crave pleasure. That didn't mean she would crumble to her needs. At least not yet.

Outside the cave entrance, the wind was blowing so hard...like a freight train.

"We were lucky," he said as he handed her a skin-type canteen. She took it and eyed the opening, wondering if he'd maybe dropped a drug in there.

She was dying of thirst, but was she willing to put her life on the line by trusting he hadn't put a drug in her drink? Obviously he had done it before with the food she'd stolen from his knapsack. How else had she been so deeply asleep he'd been able to finger-f.u.c.k her into that mind-blasting o.r.g.a.s.m without her even realizing he was real?

G.o.d, was that only this morning?

She handed the canteen back without drinking anything. He said nothing as he accepted it and tossed back a drawn-out drag. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his long, thick throat. She enjoyed the way he held the canteen with those strong fingers and the sensual way his lips curled around the mouth. His eyes were closed in what seemed like sensual bliss as he drank and she licked her dry lips with antic.i.p.ation, regretting not taking a drink.

Okay, so he wouldn't drink his own drugged water, right? But she would get down to the matter of how he'd been able to finger-f.u.c.k her without her realizing it.

While his eyes were closed, she studied his naked chest. It was wide and corded muscles rippled through his shoulders. A light dusting of downy black hair covered his chest and she recoiled at the scars that were lashed across him. Just thinking about the pain he must have endured while being whipped made her sad. Who would do such a horrid thing to a man?

When her gazed traveled upward, his black eyes were studying her.

"I would not have drugged your water," he replied and held out the canteen. How the h.e.l.l did he know what she'd been thinking?

"But you drugged the food I stole."

He shook his head. "Not drugged. The berries I placed into my sack were meant for you. I admit they are called s.e.xual Berries for their seductive qualities."

He had a funny way of thinking those s.e.xual Berries weren't drugs. What was he, stupid or something?

"Females crave s.e.x. First they fall into a deep sleep, and then they have sensual, s.e.xual dreams. The dreams seem so realistic they think the visions are actually happening."

"Then you didn't..." He didn't finger-f.u.c.k her? She let the sentence die as disappointment laced her voice.

There was no way she was going to tell him he played the hot s.e.xy stud in her sensual, berry dreams. d.a.m.n him, but dare she believe him? He was licking his fingers, for crying out loud. He had f.u.c.ked her with his fingers!

"Yes, I did touch you. You were whimpering in your sleep. I knew you needed release." The sides of his mouth drew wide in a knowing smile.

How embarra.s.sing. Her cheeks grew hot and she accepted the canteen, cleaned the rim with her palm.

The cool liquid tasted heavenly as it splashed down her parched throat. She couldn't get enough. Simply could not stop drinking. That is, until his hand wrapped around her wrist like a band of steel and he stopped her.

"Enough, you must eat something."

He took the canteen from her and handed her some dried meat. It smelled pretty good and tasted even better. Salty and sweet at the same time.

They ate in silence, him handing her some dried fruit that looked like figs, which he allowed her to follow with the rest of the water from the canteen.