When she was released from the stasis she had voluntarily entered, the world that greeted Emily Harding’s eyes was far from what she’d expected. It more closely resembled a post-apocalyptic novel than the rolling green Tennessee hills she’d left behind.
Worse than that, it seemed that the rule of law was a thing of the past, and that society had devolved into what it had been thousands of years ago – feudal tribes warring with each other over precious and rare supplies, which included females. One type of female in particular.
It was raw, unforgiving, and animalistic. Much like the behavior of the man who took her captive and held her there, forcing her to learn that even she was not unaffected by the changes that had been wrought on the world, proving to her time and time again that she was nothing more to him than a means to breed children.
And making her scream in agonizing pleasure as he did so.
DISCLAIMER: The Alpha's Woman contains graphic sexual scenes and light spanking of the heroine.
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Her supplies dwindled rapidly, despite her strict rationing; forcing her to abandon attempts to do much that was physical in favor of saving the calories. This reduced her to being a sentry at the mouth of the cave, which she'd done her best to conceal with brush, for hours on end.
She was just beginning to enjoy her one meager meal a day – while still scanning the horizon for signs of life – when she saw him.
One second, nothing, and then, on the return sweep, there he was, not bothering to conceal himself in the least, sitting, bold as brass, on a big horse.
And staring right back, directly into her eyes, without the benefit of binoculars.
His appearance so startled her – and what she could see was his bold assessment of her – that she dropped her binoculars and scrambled a few feet away, into the cave.
Not because she was scared of him, necessarily, although she knew she ought not to assume that he would be friendly.
No, it wasn't fear that had driven her back into the false safety of her cave.
It was the way her body had reacted to that stare. The man was a good half mile away, at least, and yet her body trembled, her breathing was shallow and sharp, as if she'd just been jogging, nipples hardening against her will beneath the baggy shirt she was wearing as she felt a longing rise within her that was unlike anything else she'd ever experienced.
Her sex life with her love had been amazing, and she had wanted him all day, every day, since the moment she'd met him.
But this was not that.
This was quite...uncivilized.
Primitive in the extreme.
Animalistic.
And much less controllable – completely overwhelming and undeniable.
She had to ball her hands into fists to keep them from plunging beneath her shirt and cupping her own breasts, pinching her nipples the way she knew she wanted him to. Then slipping further down to delve into what she knew would be the wet heat of her desire, horrified at the same time to realize that she could already feel her own juices dripping down the insides of her thighs.
She shook her head so rapidly that it made her stumble dizzily, hoping to clear it enough to make preparations in case he decided to storm the cave. She should have been scrambling around making things as secure as she could – however pitiful though her attempt might be.
Instead, she found herself rooted to the spot, head down, gasping for breath, the struggle to tamp down the urge to writhe where she stood taking every bit of her concentration.
When she'd finally beaten it back some, she lifted her head and looked up again at where he'd been.
Only he was no longer there.
