Hunted

Sasha climbed into the truck and carefully placed his beloved rifle beside him out of the girl's reach, just in case. He had a reputation even among the rest of the soldiers as being particularly ruthless and talented in killing people, and so nobody else challenged him as he left the camp, with his unconscious, bruised and battered prisoner beside him.

***

Suzanne woke up to find herself lying naked in an strange bed in an unfamiliar room. The bed was warm and cosy and complete with blankets, but her stomach was growling and she was in desperate need to pee, regardless of the fact that she couldn't possibly have a spare drop of water in her body. She sat up and slid her feet to the floor, and experimented in standing up slowly. Her bones ached and her thigh felt like it was burning, but she was damned if she was going to let herself fall over. She was still alive, and that was worth more than a sore leg. She hobbled to the door and was amazed to find it unlocked.

She stuck her head out of the door slowly, suspicious of suddenly being allowed some degree of freedom to roam in her surroundings. When no danger was immediately apparent, she crept out of the room in search of a bathroom. Once that bodily function was satisfied, she crept down the stairs to find out if anyone else was home.

Sasha was sitting at the kitchen table, efficiently dismantling and cleaning his rifle and his handgun. Suzanne stood shaking in the doorway, unsure if she was going to anger him by having left the bedroom. Although it seemed as if she was no longer under immediate threat of death, she knew that she had only bought herself a limited amount of time. And even that was dependant on keeping this clearly unstable man happy.

She smelled the familiar scent of gun oil and was suddenly reminded of the first time that Sasha had kissed her. Her cheeks were already flushed red as he glanced over at her, his eyes lingering for a moment on her still-naked body, and then motioned for her to come closer. She sat down in the chair opposite him and watched him work, not daring to speak.

They weren't at the army camp any more, that much was obvious. And although he wasn't talking to her, Sasha didn't seem angry with her at all. She'd given them what they wanted, and so the pressure was now off of him. She wondered what that would mean for their twisted little relationship. Perhaps some day he would trust her enough to let her wear clothes again, she thought to herself, her face twisting in an ironic grimace.

"What is it?" Sasha asked softly as he noticed the expression on Suzanne's face. She blushed even more deeply, looked down at the table in front of her.

"Nothing," she whispered, her voice shaking a little in fear. She was disgusted but not surprised to realise that the fear was real. "I... just thought it would be nice to have some clothes. This isn't the warmest of countries in the world."

Finishing with his prized possessions, Sasha stood up, his face stern. The girl gulped in fear and he had to turn around so that she wouldn't see him smile. He washed his hands in the old kitchen sink and turned back towards her. She stood up as he stalked closer, backing away in fright. He grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the wall.

"Making demands already?" he asked, and she shook her head quickly.

"No!" she whispered, a desperate edge to her voice. "Of course not. I'm sorry. I'm just so cold, and—"

He kissed her, sliding one hand into her hair and the other to her breasts. She moaned, reaching up to cling to his shoulders and revelling in her ability to touch him for once. She slid one hand into his hair and he groaned in contentment at her gentle stroking fingers. Her other hand slid down and settled on his chest, feeling muscle that was well defined even through his clothes. She gasped as he picked her up and carried her back upstairs, lying her down on the bed and kicking off his boots before settling himself on top of her, one leg between her thighs.

Oh god, she could get used to this. Suzanne sighed as Sasha slid his tongue over her belly, and onto her inner thighs. She parted her legs in anticipation, desperately trying to resist the urge to grab him by the hair and pull him against her. He kept moving closer and closer until she could feel his breath exactly where she needed him most, and then he would move back to her other leg. She was keening in frustration and eventually lost control of her arms. She slid her fingers into his hair and then froze, terrified of what he would do. He looked up at her and grinned wickedly, slid the tip of his tongue to the bottom of her opening and licked all the way to the top, very lightly and very, very slowly.

Suzanne's hands flew back to the bed and she gripped the sheets painfully, a low moan escaping her body as she instinctively arched her hips into Sasha's tongue. He lifted her legs, slowly parting them wide as he settled into a more comfortable position, and started to suck. When he slid two fingers inside her and his other hand glided up to squeeze a nipple sharply, Suzanne was lost.

Sasha let the girl calm down for a couple of moments, slid his mouth against her and touched her warm, wet tongue with his. She kissed back, tentative at first, her hands shyly moving over his clothes, waiting for him to tell her if she could remove them. "Sasha," she whispered softly, tugging on his shirt. "Please..."

He'd avoided taking his clothes off in front of her in the past, except in the shower where it had been unavoidable. He had scars and markings that he didn't particularly like looking at himself, never mind showing them off to her. But if he was going to keep her around, he supposed she would have to see at some point. He pulled his shirt off over his head with a grimace, then got up to slide his pants off his legs.

Suzanne shivered as Sasha settled his body back over hers, the feel of his skin against hers making her moan in anticipation. She slid her fingers over the muscles in his arms, slowly at first until he groaned with satisfaction. She traced around a scar on his left arm, stroking near the wounded flesh gently and looking at him for consent.

"Bullet," he said softly, nodding to say that it was okay for her to touch it. "Handgun. Nine millimetre." Suzanne stroked over the marred skin for a moment before moving on to another. She spent several minutes exploring all of his injured skin, until he pushed her back down onto the bed and pressed against her.

"What do you want?" he whispered softly, his voice rapidly descending into desire-laden hoarseness. "This?" he asked, pushing so that the head of his penis threatened to enter her. She moaned in response, tried to lift her hips to meet his thrust, but he pushed her back down.

"No," he growled as he held her against the bed. "You don't move. I'm in charge. That's what you need, isn't it? That's what you want." He lifted her face level with his so that he could gauge her reaction to his next sentence. "To be controlled and dominated? And held down and fucked? Answer me."

She wanted to tell herself that she said it to make him happy, but ultimately it wasn't true. She agreed with everything he said, and she meant it. She enjoyed the feel of him on top of her, holding her down and pushing inside her until she cried out in pain. Hell, she had even enjoyed him calling her a whore.

Sasha pushed deep inside the girl with a single, punishing thrust, and shuddered in satisfaction as she whimpered in pain. He pulled out of her a little and started moving in slow, steady circles and she arched against him, reaching out her hands to pull him against her. He grabbed her wrists and held them down above her head.

"I said no," he growled, and Suzanne whined in frustration. He carried on with his slow, steady rhythm and she laid as still as she could, moaning softly in pleasure. "Good girl," he whispered against her ear. "Lie there and take it, there's a good girl."

Suzanne whined into Sasha's neck, desperately wanting to pull him deeper inside her but knowing that he would not approve. "Oh please, Sasha!" she whimpered. "Please, oh god, I need you..."

"What do you need?" he whispered.

"Deeper," Suzanne replied, her eyes rolling back in her head at the thought. "And harder. And faster. Oh please!"

Sasha stopped his circling movements and leaned into the girl so that he could push inside her hard and as deep as she could take. She cried out sharply in pain, but he didn't stop. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asked. "Do you want me to fuck you until it hurts?"

"Oh yes!" she moaned, and he growled in response. She screamed as he came inside her, the pain mixing with incredible pleasure as she came for the second time, and gratefully allowed him to rest on top of her.

***

Two days later, Sasha found a shirt, pants and a pair of boots that were only a few sizes too big for her, and Suzanne dragged them over her still aching body, grateful to finally have some dignity once again. She had contemplated attempting to escape, but up until now Sasha had not allowed her to be out of his sight for a single waking moment. She waited as patiently as she could, assuming that he would slip up eventually.

He did. He had been outside unloading some supplies from the truck, and he entered the kitchen carrying a very large and cumbersome-looking sack. He glanced to the side while he was carrying the item, and saw that Suzanne was in the kitchen with him. Within an instant, they both realised who was closest to the open door.

She ran. Without a second's hesitation, she bolted for the door and was out of the house before Sasha had time to lower the heavy sack to the floor. But he was fast, she knew that from past experience, and so she didn't have the time or the energy to think about what she was doing as she headed for the trees surrounding the building.

He was shouting at her to stop, which occurred to her as strange. Why would he possibly think she would listen when she had a chance at escape? Focusing only on the speed of her stride, she failed to notice the note of anxiety in Sasha's voice as he called to her to stop. It wasn't until she finally noticed the warning marks on the trees that she stopped running, and stood absolutely still, scanning the forest floor in panic.

And there they were. No more than a foot away from where she stood, a piece of metal shone dully through the undergrowth, and Suzanne finally recognised it as an anti-personnel landmine. She glanced around and counted at least two others within touching distance of her current position. She had missed them on her way in by pure dumb luck, but the chances of her missing them again on the way out seemed slim. If she put enough weight on one of them to activate the mine, it would jump several feet in the air and explode, showering fragments of metal across the ground as well as her own internal organs.

She heard Sasha come to an abrupt standstill several feet behind her. On the edge of the minefield no doubt. But if he came any closer, he could set off one of the mines and kill them both.

"Don't move!" Suzanne whispered, as if she was scared that the mines would hear her, and set themselves off. She shuffled on the spot so that she was facing Sasha's direction to ensure that he was not moving.

Sasha scowled. "I told you to stop running. As if I don't know where my own fucking landmines are. Now don't move!" He slowly picked his way between the mines, edging his way towards her at the speed of a tortoise. But at least he didn't manage to blow them both to pieces. When he finally reached Suzanne, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the house, picking up the pace once they were clear of the danger again.

Suzanne sank into a chair at the kitchen table as Sasha went back to the truck and finished unloading the supplies. She was too shaken to run for it again. As he finished putting some canned food into a store cupboard, Suzanne whispered in a puzzled voice: "You could have been killed, Sasha. Why did you come after me?"

Sasha looked at her, an unfamiliar expression on his face. He seemed to be troubled. "If I hadn't, you would be dead," he replied. This was probably true, but it did nothing to explain his actions. Nothing believable, anyway. Up until now, Suzanne had been sure that Sasha existed solely to enjoy causing other people pain. There was no way that he seemed capable of any depth of feeling. So why did it seem as if he was upset at the thought of her dying?

Suzanne dragged her shaking body to her feet and stumbled towards Sasha. She flung her arms around him and hugged for dear life. "Thank you," she whispered, the words muffled since her mouth was pressed into Sasha's neck. He slid his arms around her in response, and rested his cheek on the top of her head, holding her until her shaking subsided once more.

***

Several days passed; Suzanne wasn't sure exactly how many. They settled into a semblance of a routine, twisted as it was. Sasha was generally out during the day, after having determined that the landmine infested woods were impassable and it was an un-walkable distance to civilization along the road. So, escape looking ever more unlikely, Suzanne busied herself with sleeping, and attempting to keep herself as fit as possible without the use of any equipment to help her. And waiting for Sasha to come home.

She was becoming attached to him, and that was a problem. He made her feel alive; like the time that she had first flown solo or rode a bike by herself, even. He was rough and he was brutal but he was beautiful and passionate and intense and she lo --

*No. Stop right there.*

It was definitely a problem. Suzanne had a job to do -- to finish, and people were relying on her. She needed to get to a phone. Sasha had a mobile but he'd never left it where she could get at it without him knowing. She was going to have to think of something, she was running out of time. If she wasn't careful, she was going to be late, in more ways than one.

The opportunity presented itself in the end. They were making dinner, and Sasha left Suzanne in charge of stirring the food while he went upstairs to take a shower. She turned away from the cooker to find that he'd left his mobile on the kitchen table. Strange. She waited for several moments, and then heard Sasha enter the bathroom and turn on the shower. It was perfect. She grabbed the phone and dialled the number for her contact, quickly stirring their dinner while making sure that she was in sight of the stairs. She'd see his shadow approach in time to put the phone back so that he was none the wiser.

It seemed to ring forever, and Suzanne bit her lip in trepidation. Was she too late? A strange mixture of emotion washed over her at that thought. Something else not to think about. The call connected just in time to spare her having to identify her emotions.

Silence. She spoke quietly, identifying herself with her call sign and password only. The person on the other end of the line was satisfied, and confirmed their identity to her. "Report?" Suzanne asked softly.

"Intelligence confirms they are acting on your information and moving into position," the voice replied. "We will be ready to meet them. Everything is going as planned."

"When?"

"Approximately seven hours. A team will be ready for extraction. Location?"

"Can you trace the position of this call?"

"Of course."

"Then it will be from here."

"Agreed. We will extract you as soon as the operation begins."

Suzanne's breath caught in her throat and she didn't respond for a moment. She had no idea that things were going to happen so soon.

"Ma'am?" the voice on the other end of the line enquired.

"Yes," she replied, trying to mentally shake herself. "I'll be ready."

"I'm glad to hear your voice again, ma'am. See you back at Operations."

"Thank you," Suzanne replied, and ended the call. A moment later, the shower turned off. She searched through the unfamiliar language of the menus of the phone, trying to find the call logs. She found the entry for the call that she had just made and deleted that single entry, thankful that the mobile phone was a Nokia and she was familiar enough with it to do this even if she wasn't sure of all of the language. She placed the phone back on the table exactly as if it hadn't been disturbed, and returned to stirring their dinner.

Sasha returned to the kitchen feeling slightly uneasy but not sure why. He spotted the phone on the table and instantly recognised his potentially massive mistake. It didn't look as if it had been moved, but he couldn't be sure. "Dinner's ready," Suzanne said over her shoulder absently. When he didn't reply, she turned to look at him, a puzzled look on her face.

He still didn't say anything. Suzanne followed his gaze to rest on the mobile, then looked back up at him, a look of slight disappointment and embarrassment on her face. She looked away again, then turned back to the cooker and busied herself with stirring. The intention was to make him realise that she hadn't touched the phone. Of course she hadn't, and how could he think such a thing of her? He still wasn't moving, so she sniffed a couple of times softly, willing tears to come to her eyes.

Sasha trusted Suzanne not to try to hurt him, and she hadn't tried to leave when he'd left her in the house on her own. But to leave his phone where she could get to it? He wasn't so sure that she wouldn't have tried to contact someone. Not until he heard her sniffling, at least. He swore under his breath softly, walked up towards her and slipped his phone into his pocket on the way. He slid his arms around her from behind and slid his mouth to her neck, nuzzled gently.

Suzanne wiped the tears from her face angrily and redoubled her efforts in stirring, attempting to ignore Sasha in his quest for the extra sensitive area below her ear. "Come here," he whispered, turning her around in his arms.

"No," she replied sulkily, trying to stop him from turning her to face him, but she wasn't trying too hard. He pulled her away from the cooker and leaned her against the table. "Dinner's going to burn," she warned, and he shrugged, sliding his hand along the back of her thigh and up to her arse, sliding the oversized shirt she was wearing out of the way as he went. He slid his other hand to her cheek and pulled her towards him, trying to placate her with a kiss that was far more tender than he usually offered. She pulled away from him, still putting up a façade of protest in order to save face. He pulled her back and kissed harder.

Needing to draw his attention away from his phone, Suzanne didn't protest any further as Sasha lifted her onto the table and laid her back, then unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it out of the way. He slid his palms from the bottom of her breast down to her hips, laid a gentle kiss just above her pubic hair. She gasped as her body jerked sharply. She was burning immediately, her legs parting automatically and without her consent. He slid her towards the edge of the table, leaned over her to look directly in her eyes and slid one finger into her mouth. She licked for a moment, then sucked gently until he withdrew it again. He slid the wet finger over one of her nipples in a slow spiralling pattern, and she moaned in frustration.

Sasha repeated his actions, sliding his wet finger over Suzanne's other breast. She arched against him, murmured in Serbian the equivalent of "Oh please just fuck me Sasha!" He slid his finger to her mouth and shushed her, slid his mouth against her ear again.

"Don't talk," he whispered softly. "Just relax." He slid his finger into her mouth again, then slid the torturing wet digit down into her pubic hair and onto her clitoris. He stroked just long enough to tease, leaned over and slid a nipple into his mouth and sucked for a moment. Suzanne writhed, and then Sasha bit into her nipple. A low moan escaped her and she shuddered as her body surged into orgasm. Sasha smiled, slid back up to kiss her as her body relaxed again.