Taken Back
About
He left her once to keep her safe.
He won't make that mistake twice.
Nine years ago, Rafe Savoca vanished from Mara Lanza's life.
No goodbye. No explanation. No closure.
Now, in the last place she'd expect to see him, Mara finds herself face-to-face with the man she never completely got over.
Rafe has secrets. Mara has questions.
Then they're taken.
The man Mara knew was intense, controlled, and impossible to forget. The man beside her now is darker. More dangerous. And when their captors try to separate them, Rafe claims Mara as his wife, puts her behind his shoulder, and gives her one simple rule: Do exactly as I say.
The problem?
Mara still responds to his commands the way she did nine years ago. Maybe more than she did back then.
And the longer they're together, the harder it becomes to pretend that time apart erased what was between them.
Because Rafe isn't interested in picking up where they left off. He wants more.
And staying by his side means Mara must choose: all of him or none of him.
His rules. His control. His punishment.
His absolute authority.
Content Notes / Trigger Warnings: Second chances; Mature themes and explicit sexual content; kidnapping and captivity; organized crime and cartel-related danger; stalking, surveillance, and invasion of privacy; possessive and controlling behavior; power-exchange and domestic-discipline dynamics; punishment and humiliation; jealousy; emotional manipulation; complex consent; coercive circumstances; threats and violence; firearms; blood; interrogation; and on-page death.
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— Excerpt —
RAFE
It’s too early for the bar to be busy, yet I won’t risk anyone overhearing us. I lead Mara outside.
The terrace is warm with a steady, salty breeze. I stop us near a narrow stretch of stone beside the resort’s side entrance. Here the music is mostly drowned out by the waves crashing onto the beach.
Mara doesn’t take her hand away, looking up at me expectantly.
She deserves answers. And she’ll get them. But in this moment, with the air lifting strands of her hair and the scent of her sweet perfume filling my nose, all I want to do is what I’ve thought about doing for years.
I lift my free hand, stopping just short of her face. Mara freezes. It gives me pause for one second.
I have no right, not after how I left.
But I’m too far gone now. She can slap me afterwards, if she wants, but I’ll have this moment.
I slide my hand into her silky hair, angling her face just how I want before I feather my lips against hers, giving her one last chance to pull away. When she doesn’t, I deepen the kiss, tasting the spice of her drink and a sweetness that’s all her. I pull her close enough to let her feel every hard line of me pressing into her.
Mara responds, pushing into me, meeting my tongue, moaning into our open mouths. When I stop, settling my hand on her waist, she’s breathless. She slumps back against the warm stone, searching my eyes.
She lets go of my hand to bring her thumb up to brush over her lower lip. I stare at her mouth until she grips my shirt, drawing my eyes up. Like the question is an exhale she’s held for nine years, she breathes, “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?”
Planting my hands flat against the wall, I cage her in. The rough stone bites into my palms. My brave Mara fists my shirt tighter. “I left to avoid making you part of something you didn’t choose.”
She frowns, trying to decipher what I mean by this. “And yet … you made the choice for me, with your leaving?”
“Yes.”
She looks down at her hands on my chest. “That doesn’t tell me anything, Rafe.” She leans her head back, staring me down. “Was there someone else?”
Unwisely, I laugh once. Mara’s eyes narrow. Her cheeks brighten from more than the Mexican heat.
I press my lower body to her, pinning her in place and cutting off whatever ridiculous thing she’d say next. “There was never anyone else.”
I let her search my face, let her see the full truth behind my words. She swallows hard, her eyes dropping to my mouth.
This time, I resist giving in to temptation. Barely.
Sighing, I confess, “My life got … complicated. That’s why I left like I did.”
“That’s still not an answer.” She presses her hands flat to my chest. “What were you avoiding?”
I give her the simplest version of the truth. “My family.”
Puzzled, she frowns.
I sigh again, elaborating, “My family found me. I wouldn’t risk them finding you.”
Her eyes dart between mine. “What does that—”
“It means cutting myself out of your life was the only way I could protect you.”
Her frown deepens, a tiny line forming between her brows. “…From your family?”
“Yes.”
“What—”
I place my index finger over her plump lips. “Enough questions.” Her lips part. I accede to her unspoken protest, “For now.”
Her fingers curl on my chest. I glance down, taking in the way her beautiful tits lift with her deep inhale. She makes a tiny sound. Not a sigh or a groan, it’s something so soft that I’d miss it if my hand wasn’t against her mouth.
It’s her undoing.
I drop my hand to her waist again. Without raising my gaze, I order softly, “Hands up.”
She takes one sharp inhale before she pulls her hands away, stretching her arms above her head, flat against the stone wall. The movement brings her breasts higher, pressed together by the bodice of her tight green dress. Her nipples stand out.
Fuck.
Spreading my fingers over her side, I murmur almost to myself, “You still listen.”
Her throat moves enticingly with a hard swallow. “I probably shouldn’t.”
I get lost for one second in her hazel gaze. “Probably not.” Leaning forward to bring my mouth next to hers, I warn, “You should run now, if you’re going to.”
Her arms press harder to the stone. Her breath hitches. Her pupils dilate ever so slightly to make the gold stand out more.
I take it all in.
There was a time when I could tell exactly how close Mara was to really letting go of all her self-control. Her breathing would change first, then her eyes, until finally, she would look at my mouth as if she wanted something from it.
That’s what she does now. Once. Quickly. But it’s enough.
Mara won’t run. She’s trapped.
Mine.
The pressure in my body amplifies to an almost painful level. The heat between us intensifies. My own breathing becomes uneven. I press our foreheads together. “You’ve haunted me, girl.”
Mara arches into me more. A low moan passes my lips with how good she feels against me. I bring my mouth to right below her ear, “Easy.”
She settles back. I reach up and hold both her wrists with one hand while I scrape my jaw along her slender neck. Mara turns her head to give me more access, moaning against her raised arm. She trembles.
MARA
His hand slides from my waist to the outside of my thigh, fingers spreading there through the thin fabric of my dress. He doesn’t go higher, pulling back to watch my face. “Tell me what you want,” he demands. His voice is low and huskier so I know he’s not unaffected by all this.
I want to say something clever, something to keep control of the moment in my hands. But his thumb makes one slow circle on my thigh, and I’m lost. “You.”
His eyes darken. He shakes his head. “Use your words.”
I swallow. He waits.
That was always part of the cruelty of Rafe — he could wait forever.
“I want you to stop acting like you didn’t leave me.” My voice shakes. “I want you to tell me why. I want you to—”
His hand tightens on my wrists, pressing my arms into the rough stone more. “You’ll get all that,” he states. “Every answer.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.” His mouth brushes mine again. “It’s a promise.”
I want to say promises from him mean nothing.
Instead, I kiss him.
He groans against my mouth. His hand moves higher, fingers pressing into the curve beneath my dress. Heat flares through me. Before I can stop myself, I arch toward him.
“Easy,” he murmurs, and the word, again, acts like a match setting flame to my hidden desires.
His mouth finds my throat, his rough stubble making me shiver. I tip my head back against the stone. With my hands high above me, his body pins mine in place. “Rafe.”
“Shh.” His hand flexes at my thigh and I bite my lower lip to stop from begging him to move it higher still. A soft, long moan escapes me.
Rafe lifts his head.
And his entire body changes, instantly. The heat goes out of him so fast it leaves me cold.
“What?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, only turns his head slightly toward the street beyond the resort entrance. His hand tightens around my wrist, no longer sensual. The touch is more protective, controlled.
“Put your shoes on.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Mara.” His eyes are no longer dark with desire. They’re flat, hard. Alert.
The man in front of me has changed so completely that every instinct in my body recognizes it before I even understand why.
“Put your shoes on,” he repeats, slower.
I look down. At some point, I had slipped out of my sandals. They sit on the tiled floor next to my forgotten purse.
Muffled music still drifts out of the terrace doors. The surf still pounds the beach farther away. The few tourists out here still laugh. Nothing seems different. Except Rafe.
Then I hear it.
An engine idles nearby with another one farther down the road. Shoes hurriedly shuffle over gravel and several doors snick quietly closed. Low voices maintain calm in thick accents. Nothing I can name as wrong, yet every instinct says otherwise.
Rafe bends, grabbing my sandals and bag to press them into my hands. “Now,” he commands.