The Scarlet Hunter

Chapter 45-2

Emphasis on the "our." Hopelessness surrounded Isla and sank in through her body. Her head swayed with lightheadedness when she understood his living arrangements for them.

Jackson lifted her into his arms again and whisked her to the elevator, where they went up several floors. He stepped out into a large hallway. It felt familiar, like the ones at the Northern Territory. It was filled with paintings and other art, but Isla didn't dare look too long. None of this information would help her escape sooner, so she was better off appeasing and buying herself more time. She buried her face into his chest again, trying to be sweet and compliant, and felt him respond.

They made it to a door, and she heard beeps and clunks when it unlocked. Walking through, Jackson advised her, "This is where you'll stay when we're together." He glided across the room and put her on a couch." Breakfast is on the way."

She sat there with her hands behind her back and looked around at the dark wood and hard surfaces. The four-poster Cal King bed fits perfectly with the rest of the intimidating furniture. Tall windows that reminded her of the windows in Alec's apartment had sheer curtains drawn filtering the rising sun.

"We'll eat and then clean up. I'll put you down to rest after that."

Isla would never get used to the manhandling and control he had over her. Ever since she was a kid, she fought against being told what to do, and now she was supposed to just take it.

"But first, let's get you comfortable." Jackson reached down and, with a jerk, ripped open her shirt. Isla pushed up from her legs and threw herself back in shock. Before she could land, Jackson was on her. His weight pushed down on her lap, and his arms locked her into place. Everything happened so fast the buttons were just now bouncing across the hard floor. Isla recalled Alpha Cole teaching her to avoid the chase instinct, and she surrendered her retreat with mindful deep breaths.

Jackson reached under her shirt and around her back. The warmth of her skin sent chills through his hand and up his arm. As requested, she had not been washed and smelled like a collection of various scents from the woods at the New Territory, to Cole, to Alec. True to his word, Cole did not touch her skin under her clothes, but his scent was still on her. And Alec's scent was smeared across her body. Jackson's hard stare was on her face, looking into her eyes, threatening her without words. Isla dropped her eyes to his lips to see a sneer draw across them. "Do not fight me, precious. Do not ever fight me."

She was soon being lifted and thrown onto her stomach across the couch. She twisted her head to the side, but it provided no relief. Her breathing was strained with her arms secured behind her and Jackson's weight on her back. Once satisfied with her compliance, he kneeled between her legs and shoved her hips up into him. Wandering over her stomach that was no longer pressed in the cushions, he reached down and unzipped her pants. With her hips raised, he slid the waistband over her butt, hooking his thumbs into the side straps of her underwear, pulling them at the same time. Her bare cheeks were exposed to him. He dragged his hot face along the smooth and fair skin, inhaling her unique scent. "You still smell like him, but not for long."

Placing a hand near her head, he leaned forward so that her ass fit against his groin, his hardness rubbing along her crack through his pants. Isla felt a smack, and she jumped. "Don't ever fight me." His hand landed another searing slap. "Do you understand, precious?" A sting hit her cheek again, and another smack filled the air. "Do you understand what it means when I tell you not to fight me?" He growled full of menace.