Kandace and the Beast.

Shay Savage.

Dedication.

This is for Kandace.

Sometimes a person enters your life, and you have no idea what kind of impact she will have on you. You dont realize what shes doing behind the scenes on your behalf. You dont realize when you first speak with her that shes going to be instrumental in changing your life.

Kandace, I am in awe of your strength and bravery. Im impressed by your att.i.tude and the way you continue to keep everyone else in your thoughts when you have every right to think only of yourself and your family. You are truly an amazing woman, and I will be forever in your debt. As you take on this battle, I am right there beside you.

You got this.

f.u.c.k cancer.

Acknowledgements.

I want to thank Dani, Kaylee, Elissa, and Bethany for all their help in getting this together while trying to keep it all under wraps at the same time. I couldnt have managed it without your support.

I also want to thank my editor, Chayasara, for her record-setting editing speed, pushing my b.u.t.tons, and subsequently making me a better writer. I dont usually win arguments with her, but I always learn something!

Thanks to Mayhem Cover Creations for donating the cover art for this project.

So many people have gathered to support Kandace and her family. My newsfeed is constantly filled with messages of support and pictures of gifts people have sent. I suck at trying to come up with an inspirational quote or the perfect gift, but I knew I wanted to do something for her to show how much she means to me. This little tale is it.

Kandace has always gone on about Bastian Stark, up to and including replacing promo media with her own face. I figured it was time to let her fantasy come true.

Proceeds will be donated to Kandaces medical expenses.

Chapter 1.

Waves from warm ocean water roll over my feet as I walk through the sand. Its an ideal day. The weather is beautiful, and I dont have a care in the world.

Theres the niggling feeling in the back of my head that tells me something isnt right; something isnt quite normal. What am I doing on a beach? The last thing I remember is a nurse affixing one of those medical wristbands on my arm. It had Kandace scribbled on it along with my birthdate and a code number of some sort.

The scene around me is incredibly idyllic. The ocean is the crystal-clear azure of the Caribbean, and the sky is a brilliant blue with just a few wisps of clouds scattered about. There are seabirds bobbing around on the waves. The sand is smooth and nearly white, and the temperature is perfectly warm and inviting but not too hot. The sun heats my skin, but I dont feel the burning sensation that would tell me I need more sunscreen.

I glance down at my pedicured toenails as my feet make their way along the sh.o.r.eline. I cant remember going to a salon recently"there hasnt been the time"but my toenails are a seash.e.l.l pink and glitter with the sunlight. I pa.s.s sandpiper tracks and seash.e.l.ls, but the beach is otherwise spotless. Im wearing a blue one-piece bathing suit with a pair of rolled-up mens boxers over them.

Boxers?

I reach down and run my fingers over the hem. They are way too big for me, even rolled over at the top. The edges are frayed, and there are little bits of thread reaching out and poking the blue bathing suit.

Do I own a blue bathing suit?

The thought is gone from my head as quickly as it entered. I close my eyes and turn my head to face the warm breeze coming off the ocean. The seabirds on the waves suddenly take flight, calling out into the wind. The smell of salt and sea-life fills my nostrils, and I smile.

When I open my eyes, my perfect setting is marred by a group of four men farther up the beach near a rocky outcropping, dressed in blue jeans and T-shirts. They look unkempt and rough as they loiter at the edge of the water. Theres a small boat nearby with its bow pressed into the sand and a long rope presumably attached to an anchor off one side. The men are a long way off but still look in my direction, watching me approach. I slow my pace, suddenly nervous. Where did they come from, and why hadnt I seen them before? I slow down a bit more, but my pace seems irrelevant because moments later, the men are right in front of me.

Looks like someone could use a little help. There is nothing sincere in the voice of the darkly tanned man with a long, black ponytail. He smiles at me, revealing a couple of missing teeth. You need a little help, sweetheart?

No. My voice sounds hoa.r.s.e. Im fine.

You really arent. A chunky guy with greasy hair leers at me, taking a step forward as a man with dreadlocks bunched up with a piece of twine at the back of his neck starts to laugh.

Hes right"Im not fine. I am supposed to be in the hospital, undergoing treatment for the umpteenth time. I shouldnt be here at all, and I definitely shouldnt be here with these men.

I think she needs some company, he says, and they all begin to chime in.

Yeah"Ill keep her company for a while!

Me, too!

Im definitely up for that!

They all snicker as I take a step away from them. I know I should turn and run, but my body doesnt comply with my wishes. My thoughts are garbled as my mind tries to make sense of where I am, how I got here, and whats happening. The danger feels real enough, but I cant seem to act on my fear. As I force myself to take a small step back, my arms are grabbed and pulled behind me.

I have no recollection of the man with the black ponytail moving into position at my back, but he now has me firmly in his grasp. I feel the touch of his breath on my neck as he holds me against him, still snickering. Finally finding my voice, I scream and struggle fruitlessly, and they all just laugh in response.

None of that, now, the man with dreads says. He covers my mouth with one hand as he rubs his scratchy face against my cheek. Were just gonna have a little fun.

He grabs for the top of my bathing suit. I feel his cold, clammy fingers on my skin, and I want to hurl. The men begin to talk about what they want to do with me, and the bubble of panic inside my stomach inflates with their words. What happened to my perfect, peaceful setting? How had it turned into a nightmare so quickly?

I hear a loud cry in the distance.

I turn my head at the same time as my attackers and look toward the noise. A man is running in our direction from the top of a sand dune. Hes barefoot, and his strong legs pound the sand as he runs toward us. His face is a mask of rage, and there is a knife clutched in his hand.

Hes tall and incredibly well-built. Hes shirtless, and I can see the clear definition of the muscles in his arms and chest. His hair is dark, and theres a couple days worth of growth on his face. Hes racing down the hill at incredible speed, the muscles in his legs flexing as he runs.

I know who this man is.

Sebastian Stark. Hes a champion at death-match tournament fighting. Hes deeply rooted in organized crime but has been hiding out near Puerto Rico, posing as the captain of a sailing vessel. No one has heard anything of him since his schooner was lost at sea during a storm months ago.

Thats not possible The knot in the pit of my stomach hardens. I look out over the sea"all the way to the horizon. Its still a calm, beautiful day. There are seagulls ama.s.sing along the sh.o.r.e and pecking at mussels on the rocks. The whole scene is all too perfect"all too surreal. It doesnt mesh with the arms gripping me from behind or the madman rushing toward us from the dunes.

And Bastian Stark isnt a real person. Hes a character from a novel I read years ago.

As Bastian approaches the group, he speaks no words. Instead, he screams as he leaps into the air and collides with the man with dreadlocks. They crash to the sand, and with a single, swift motion, Bastian shoves his knife into the mans neck. The sand is immediately covered in blood.

I open my mouth to scream, but nothing happens. I cant move. I cant make a sound. All I can do is watch.

There is a flurry of movement. My eyes cant keep track of it all, and my feet feel as if theyve sunk into the sand, leaving me immobile and helpless as I watch the violence in front of me. The man who was holding me is no longer there"hes in the middle of the battle with the rest of them"but I can still feel the grip of his fingers around my arms.

One of the men grabs Bastian from behind, and another swings at him with a switchblade. Bastian leans back, using his captor as leverage to bring his legs up. His muscular limbs capture the man holding the knife, and Bastian squeezes him between his thighs. I hear a sharp crack before the man drops to the ground, lifeless. Bastian then flips his captor over his shoulders, throwing him into the waves. I watch the body bob up and down for a moment, struggling against the riptide before it sinks and doesnt resurface.

Bastian has the last man"the one with the black ponytail"down on the ground. He hits him over and over again, alternating punching him in the face with one hand and using the knife to stab him in the neck with the other. I cant breathe. I can only stand there and stare at the carnage as the sand turns red.

The man is motionless, and his face is a mess of blood and bone. Hes long dead"Im sure of it"but Bastian keeps screaming and hitting him.

Bastian, stop! I yell.

Slowly, he pushes away from the mutilated body on the ground and stands. His eyes are wild. His chest rises and falls with deep, labored breaths. The knife in his hand drips blood onto the sand as he turns his feral gaze to me.

I feel my pulse throb between my legs as I gasp. Ive never laid eyes on this man before, but my bodys reaction to his gaze is immediate and undeniable. Bastians tight muscles ripple as he moves closer, wiping the blade on his arm. I cant take my eyes off his perfectly tanned and toned body.

He takes a step closer to me as he drops the bloodied knife into the sand. I know I should step away from this crazed killer, but I dont move. Im captivated by the look of unbridled l.u.s.t in his eyes.

For me or for the blood?

He takes another step toward me, stopping only a foot away from where I stand. I watch him lick his lips, and the throb between my legs makes itself known again.

Kandace How does he know my name?

He starts to reach for me but stops suddenly as he looks at his blood-covered hand. He drags his tongue over his lips again, and I see his throat bob as he swallows.

Your hands are bleeding, I say softly.

Its not my blood.

Still I take a deep breath as I look from his hands to the edge of the water. Come on. Lets get you washed off.

He follows me to the waves, and I carefully cup my hands to collect water to wash his hands and arms. The salt water mixes with the blood, diluting it as it washes the red streaks away. It only takes a moment before his skin is cleaned of blood. There was so much of it"how did it come off so quickly?

I take his large hands in mine and run my thumbs over his palms. They are rough and callused"the hands of a man who knows how to use them and use them well. I turn his hands over, carefully checking them for injury, but they look perfect. Theres no more blood, no bruising, no scratches on them at all.

None of this makes sense. I know it doesnt, but my mind cant seem to focus on the disbelief. All my attention is on the man next to me. My eyes are filled with the sight of the sun glistening on his back and the curve of his biceps. I can smell the musky scent of his skin and feel the heat from his body as he stands close to me. Its more brilliant than the heat from the equatorial sun.

My heart beats quickly in my chest. Im finding it difficult to control my breathing, and my thighs are clenching together against my will. I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, wondering what I am supposed to do or say now.

Ive never wanted someone so badly in my life.

Bastian wraps his fingers around my hands, squeezes them briefly, and then traces his fingers up my arms. He rests his hands on my shoulders for a moment as he stares at me. The wild, uncontrolled look is back in his eyes.

I drop my gaze to his full lips. He moistens them with his tongue, and I know exactly what hes about to do. My whole body seems to know. Theres a tingling sensation starting at the bottom of my feet and working its way up my legs. I feel sweat beginning to form between my shoulder blades.

He crashes his mouth to mine. This is no gentle first kiss. There is no build up, no pause before he touches his lips to mine. His kiss possesses me with no room for argument, no option but to surrender to his will. By the time he breaks away, Im panting, and the stubble from his chin has left my skin raw.

The kiss feels amazing.

I need you. His tone is quiet and deep. It sends a shiver up and down my spine even before he reaches out and grasps me tightly around the waist. As our bodies press together, I feel his huge, hard c.o.c.k pressed firmly against my pubic bone. Now.

Im on my back in the sand. I dont know what happened to my clothes or to his; I only know theyre gone. His skin is against mine, and his hard, throbbing, nine-inch-long c.o.c.k is pressed up against my p.u.s.s.y. Theres no time to think or even breathe before hes shoving it inside of me.

I cry out as he fills me. Hes so hard, his movements so fast, that it seems like it should be painful, but its not. Its incredible. Its overwhelming. I am completely and totally owned by this man, and all I can do is lie back in the sand and let him take me.

Mine. His low growl sounds rough against my ear. I feel the sc.r.a.pe of his stubble on my neck, and I close my eyes to let the sensation engulf me. His hand is between my legs, his thumb circling my c.l.i.t as I push my hips up to meet the pounding movement of his body on top of mine.

I want to scream. I want to call out with complete and total confidence that yes"yes, I am his. There is nothing I want more than to be consumed by his pa.s.sion, but I cant seem to utter a single sound.

Only I do this to you. I feel his hot breath on my face as he holds my face between his hands and glares down at me. Only me! Do you understand?

I try to answer, but he covers my mouth with his. I give my answer with my body as I push up against him, desperate to feel more of his skin against mine even as he pounds into me. He breaks the kiss and grabs my hip, clenching it tightly with his fingers. He pulls my body into his as he arches his back, impaling me over and over again.

There is nothing romantic about what hes doing to me. Its hard, ferocious f.u.c.king. Its rough and laced with an atmosphere of panic, as if there will never be another chance for this, and its exactly what I want from him.

He matches his thrusts with grunted words.

Youre mineminemineno one else...everever touches you My head spins at his words, and I nod in agreement though the movement is masked by the motion of his thrusts. I run my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, my fingers wrapping around the strands as his c.o.c.k rams into me. I feel the distinctive buildup of tension between my legs, and I push my heels into the sand to press up against his body, trying to grasp that last little nudge that will bring me over the edge.

And Im suddenly falling. I hear myself cry out his name as my body explodes. The feeling cascades over my skin, radiating from my core outward. My c.l.i.t continues to throb along with my heartbeats as my legs give out and my hips drop to the wet sand.

Im overwhelmed with sensations. The scents of the ocean and Bastians skin are mixed with blood and salt. Waves touch my feet in a steady rhythm that is out of sync with Bastians movements inside of me. The sounds of his grunts coupled with my staccato gasps are muted by the calls of seagulls and the ocean surf. I close my eyes against the bright sunlight, and my temples pound.

Bastian grabs the back of my head, covers my lips with his, and his tongue invades my mouth with furious motions. He rocks into my body faster as I wrap both my arms and legs around him.

I cant keep up with his furious pace. All I can do is hang on as another o.r.g.a.s.m ripples through my body. My legs shake as my back and shoulders are pressed deeper into the wet sand.

Bastian slows his pace as he moves his hand from the back of my head to my shoulder, holding the top half of my body up slightly before he starts to move faster again. I grasp frantically at his body with my arms and legs, pulling him down to me so our chests are pressed together. I can feel the abrasive grains of sand chafing my skin, but I dont care.

With a final, hard thrust, he stills inside of me and cries out against my shoulder. I feel the thick, warm s.e.m.e.n filling my body as he tightens his arm around my shoulders and clenches my hip with his fingertips.

I lay my head back in the sand and welcome his weight on top of me. Ive never felt so sated, so exhausted, or so completely and totally safe as I do right now, in the sand, with his arms cradling me. I know that as long as hes here and holding me, nothing bad will ever happen.

We lie in the sand for a long time, but the sun is never too hot, the wet sand never too uncomfortable. When he does shift his weight, and I feel his c.o.c.k slip from inside of me, my skin cools.

Bastian rises up, looking down at me with his expression full of concern and uncertainty.

Im sorry, KandaceIm so f.u.c.king sorry He wipes at tears on my face. I have no idea why Im crying. I didnt mean to The sense of unreality washes over me again. The words are too familiar. The sand beneath me should be itchy and uncomfortable, but its not. Its warm and soothing. It gives in the same way that foam mattresses mold to peoples bodies when they lay on them. The sun is bright but doesnt hurt my eyes when I look up at it.

The thoughts disappear from my head even as I think them.

Bastian places his hands on the sand next to my head and pushes himself up. I grasp his shoulders quickly to bring him back down to me. Abruptly, the idea of losing contact with his skin, even for a brief moment, is abhorrent to me.