Valerie was trying to be hopeful. Vlad would find her before it was too late.
That thing called hope faded as she was jetted away from the place she called home. The man who’d kidnapped her was nice. Kidnappers weren’t supposed to be “nice”. She wasn’t complaining, but she didn’t trust him. Valerie prayed that Vlad found her soon before her captor decided to drop the act.
The Impaler – that’s what Valerie’s abductor had called him.
He was ready to put away the title.
He was willing to step out of the game.
That was until they took away his only reason to turn over a new leaf. No one took what belonged to him. And if she did not return in the same condition that she had left that morning, then they would learn first hand exactly how ruthless he could be.
Targeted Audience: Mature Audiences: explicit sex
Kourtney King is an author that draws inspiration from the tragedies of reality to give life to her romances, basing them on real-life events.
Her constant musings of passers-by – from the average college student to the elderly – are her inspiration once she sits down to write. Ms King's stories are woven into sensitive subjects that she is passionate about and she thoroughly researches to portray a sense of realism in her fiction.
Through her writing, Kourtney hopes to provoke thought, strike a debate, and challenge you to question your beliefs about the world and the people living in it.
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
The first book in this series was a very "safe" read. The couple was finally heading towards a happily ever after, but what happens when the man you love is responsible for weapons getting into the wrong hands in war torn regions? Deliverance takes a sharp turn when Valerie is kidnapped and the man who has her is a client that Vlad had turned down.
Read more, including a sample from the book
Sample from Book:
Today, Vlad was not in the mood to handle another meeting for the new company he was setting up. He'd decided to call it a day early in the afternoon. Just as the cab came to a stop outside the hotel doors, he noticed Valerie walking into the lobby with another man. They seemed to be on friendly terms. The conversation they were having had her bursting into laughter. His hands tightened around the door handle and he ground on his molars.
"Sir?" the cab driver called to get his attention.
He was so enraged at the sight that he couldn't move, let alone get out of the car. Paying his fare, he climbed out to go in search of Valerie.
As he stood outside the door of his suite, Vlad was in a blinding rage as fury coursed through his veins at the implication of Valerie's duplicity. Sliding in the room key, he pushed the door open, only to find that the lounge was empty. Closing the door behind him, he strode into the bedroom and found her lying on the bed, watching TV. She sat up in surprise at his presence.
"Hey you, you're home early," she said with a lazy smile.
Vlad didn't say anything. He couldn't bring himself to ask her whether she was seeing someone else under his own nose. He just looked at her, trying to gauge any nuances that would highlight a lie. There were none, but he still felt uneasy at what he had witnessed. Walking into the bathroom, he hoped to find the man she was with hiding inside, but it was empty. Walking back out, he took off his suit jacket to hang up in the closet. Again, his suspicions had him checking the interior. He was itching to beat the shit out of that weasel, but yet again he was nowhere to be found.
At this point, Valerie sat up and watched him curiously, silently questioning his strange behaviour. Vladimir felt a little foolish. The thought of her seeing another man, giving another the body that belonged to him, had flipped a switch that he was having a hard time turning off.
“Are you looking for something?” she asked sincerely.
He walked out of the bedroom and took a seat at the work desk in the lounge that sat adjacent to the floor to ceiling windows with their magnificent view of the ocean. He hadn’t been in the country for too long on this second trip yet Valerie had managed to get closer to him with each day they spent together. He'd been looking forward to coming home early and burying himself in her on arrival – one of the perks of having her spend every night with him. Watching her cosy up with another man had ruined those plans. He wanted to take his frustrations out on something − preferably the someone he didn't manage to get a good look at. Unfortunately, jealousy was not a plausible excuse, considering that he refused to recognise the emotion which had consumed him over the past five minutes.
Looking up, he saw the subject of his angst approaching him. He felt hotter than normal and the vein in his temple began to throb as he clenched his jaw. Her presence was affecting him in a way he did not like and could not explain. Vladimir couldn't decide whether he wanted to fuck her or throw her out. If he got rid of her, it would take some time to work her out of his system. But he'd find a way.
Her delicate hands caressed his flushed face. Looking into her eyes he saw the concern she felt for him. He instinctively relaxed his jaw and the tension began to thaw. He wasn't willing to get rid of her. He just needed to reassert the balance that was now weighing heavily in her favour.
Vlad stood up, breaking their brief contact. Valerie's eyebrows drew together in confusion. He couldn't blame her. His behaviour had been bizarre from the minute he set foot through the door.
Cupping her neck with one hand, he stared down at her menacingly, showing her exactly how he felt. He couldn't stand the innocent eyes that stared back at him. Moving to stand behind her, his hands settled on her shoulders. He pushed her upper body onto the surface of the table and lifted her dress, exposing her ass. With one hand pressed at her back to keep her in place, he used the other to knead her supple behind. She was not wearing any underwear.
Was the bold display for him or someone else?
The possibility that she had done this for his pleasure had his cock beating the seam of his zip, begging to be let loose. However, the doubt fed his jealousy and anger.
He quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled himself out. He aligned himself at her entrance and drove in with one stroke. The hot, wet heat of her walls around him momentarily soothed his rage. Never had he felt the urge to dominate and possess a woman as much as he did now. She belonged to him and Vlad wanted to remind her of the fact.
He anchored himself by placing one hand on the middle of her back and with the other he held onto her delicate neck, using enough pressure to keep her in place, but not enough to hurt her.
His strokes were sharp, hard, and deep − specifically, targeting her g-spot. He wanted to mark her. Ward her off from any other men that dared to come near her. He channelled the mania he felt into her, tunnelling her core relentlessly. The moans she gave were a soothing balm; she was his. The fluttering of her walls was the veneration he needed to calm his brewing tempest. He wrapped his hand around her throat in a tight grip and lifted her body off the desk to lay flush against his.
He leant down into her open mouth as she gasped for air. He was past the point of caring as he spoke in an eerie calm, “I don't share.” Knowing he had delivered his message with maximum effect, he came.
Pulling out of her, he let go of her and Valerie's limp body fell back onto the table. He watched his cum ooze out of her core and run down her inner thighs. Satisfied, he tucked his waning erection back into his pants and walked away.
Valerie walked into the bedroom a few minutes later to use the bathroom. He guessed she was cleaning herself up from the mess he had just made. Usually, he was the one to do it by either retrieving a warm, wet cloth to wipe her down or rinsing her off in the shower. That day, he was not in a particularly caring mood. As the afternoon wore on, they went about their own work in silence − he stayed at the desk in the bedroom and she at the one in the lounge. In the early evening, Valerie packed up her bags and headed for the front door.
“Where are you going?” he asked before she left the bedroom. It was the first time he'd addressed her since the incident of a few hours ago.
“Uhm… I-I'm going to my place to get some stuff I need for tomorrow.” She failed to make eye contact as she gave her excuse and stepped out, shutting the door behind her. Vlad knew she was lying, but chose to let her go. A bit of space between them may be what they both needed.
It was late in the evening and Valerie had still not returned.
He tried calling her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Maybe something had happened to her on her way home. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, he pulled on a jacket and went to find her. Ringing the doorbell to her digs, Vlad was met by a young man at the door. He guessed from the file Mike had sent that this was Sipho – the other male resident she shared the house with. He and Jake were the reason he didn't want her staying here.
“I'm here to see Valerie.”
“Oh, I think she's sleeping,” the guy told him.
Vlad waited for an invitation, but none came. “Can I come in?”
He would have barged in if not for the sliver of control he was maintaining at being denied access to Valerie.
Sipho hesitated and after an assessing gaze that must have given him some kind of surety, he let Vlad in. Remembering the way to her bedroom from the last time he had unexpectedly shown up at her pool party, he knocked on the closed door. When Valerie opened it, her face fell. She did not look happy to see him. Dressed in an oversized t-shirt that showed off her legs, but left everything else to the imagination, Vladimir guessed that she had planned to spend the night away here.
“Why are you here?” Valerie demanded.
“You said you needed to get some stuff. I didn't know that it would take you hours to do it.”
“I decided to stay,” she answered flatly.
He pushed his way into her room and closed the door behind him. “Get your things. We're leaving.”
Valerie stared at him in a seething rage. When he approached her, she delivered a slap to his face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You're the one who just hit me. I should be asking you that question.”
“I'm not a toy you can use at will and treat any way you feel is appropriate! I am a human being with thoughts and feelings in case you forgot." Her breathing was laboured as she spoke and looked at him with disgust.
“I never said otherwise,” he coolly replied.
“You didn't need to say it, but you fucked me like I was one today. What did I even do to you for you to treat me that way?”
Vlad clenched his jaw shut, refusing to bring up a topic he considered resolved. “Nothing. It’s settled.” When she tried to strike him again, he caught her hand. “I understood your anger the first time and I can see that you're still angry. This, however, stops now,” he told her, tossing her arm away.
He watched as her face fell and he was sure that she was on the verge of giving an apology. Instead, she said, “Get. Out.”
Things were not going as planned and before he knew it, the question broke forth. “Who was the man you were talking to earlier?”
For the second time that day, her face was peppered in confusion and the innocent act irritated the hell out of him. He'd seen her with him, whoever the bastard was.
“What are you talking about?” asked Valerie.
“I arrived at the hotel a minute or two after you did this afternoon. Who was the man you walked in with, the man you were talking to, the man that made you laugh? Who is he!” he questioned, his voice rising at how stupid she was making him look.
“You mean Dean? The assistant manager?”
“Why were you talking to him in the first place?”
“I greet everybody there. He was telling me about some of the strange requests he has from some of the guests. I've basically become a permanent guest, and there’s nothing wrong with extending common courtesy to those around you. Something I’m tired of waiting for you to extend to me.”
“That I sleep with everybody because I fucked you after our ten-minute encounter. You’ve said it enough times," she whispered as tears fell down her cheeks.
Vlad felt like a fool for a different reason. He had misjudged the situation completely.
“Why didn't you just ask me?”
Why hadn't he asked? How could he explain that he was emotionally inept and had never felt jealousy over a woman, let alone learned how to manage that spectrum of emotion?
“I don't know. I was just so angry after seeing you two.”
“We said we would talk about things that make us uncomfortable. Why didn't you just ask me? I wouldn't cheat on you. I know how it feels. I would never…” Her voice shook with emotion.
“I'm sorry.” He pulled her into his arms even though she fought him off. Eventually, she gave up and cried into his chest.
He had hurt her.
Her pain was painted through the wet spots her tears created on his shirt. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed and put her down. Taking off his shoes and jacket he climbed in next to her. Her back was turned to him, but he was not blind to the sobs that wracked her body. Gently turning her head, he tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
She shut her eyes in an attempt to shut him out. He wouldn't allow her to. He kissed her tear-soaked cheeks, tasting the salt on his lips, and along with it, the bitter taste of his own regret.
“I'm so sorry,” he whispered into her ear. “I won't do it again.”
Vlad held her until she stopped crying and the shuddering ceased.
“You need to grow the hell up. For a thirty-year-old man, you behave like a child.”
Looking into her eyes, he stroked her face with his calloused thumb. No one had ever spoken to him that way. No one had ever dared to lay a hand on him. But she did. Their relationship was on shaky ground and if they continued down this path, he was going to lose her. He swallowed his pride and allowed the words of her censure.
“I'm sorry,” he repeated. Begging her to believe him. Hoping that he hadn’t ruined whatever this things between them was. He wasn't sure whether Valerie had accepted his apology, but she didn't kick him out of her bed and soon after, she fell asleep in his arms.
Vlad stayed awake, disturbed at the level of possession he held for her and his inability to walk away from the connection they shared. He never wanted to be the cause of her pain. He knew she wasn't a whore, but that didn't stop him from insinuating it when she riled him up, unknowingly or not.
He had to do better. He had to become a better man if he wanted to make this work.