I point at it. “You gave me and my daughter everything when we had nothing. When I was nothing. I’m still nothing,” I tell him. “I have nothing to give youbut what’s in here.” I hold a hand over my heart. “And this.” I lean forward and kiss him lightly, then pull back and meet his eyes. “Is that enough for you, Savage? Am I enough for you? Scars and all?”
“Fuck yes,” he hisses, no hesitation in his answer. “But if we do this, if we go where I sure as fuck want to go, it will change everything. Can you handle that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “But can you say for sure that you can handle it? Maybe we’re two broken pieces that, together, make a whole. I don’t know. You can’t know either, not now. But if I tell you I want you, I want this—at least for right now—is that enough?”
“More than enough,” he growls.
I don’t know if this is the worst decision I’ve ever made or the only good one. But my brain is still turned off, and my fears are caged like the pounding of my demanding heart. Savage is a good man. He hasn’t hurt me. I’ve never seen him hurt anyone—except maybe the assholes who roughed him up. Even before Anthony, I knew that life didn’t come with a guarantee. A promise of sunshine and rainbows and happily ever after.
But I’d have to be dead in the ground not to want this—this man, this chance—the hope of something that maybe isn’t perfect. But that’s enough. Maybe even more than enough.
“Kiss me, Savage,” I beg him. “And don’t hold back. At least for tonight, I’m yours.”
9
Savage
She’s mine.She’s mine.
The words echo through my mind for about a second before I claim her, take what I realize I’ve been wanting since her first shower in this room. Since she opened those wide green eyes and accidentally called me babe. And yet somehow, even back then, that felt right. It felt inevitable.
I free my hands from their self-imposed prison and give myself permission to touch her. To hold her. I cup Claire’s face in both hands and bring her lips to mine. I’m tasting her, losing myself in her sweetness and her spice, fisting her hair lightly and savoring every gasp and murmur that passes from her lips to mine.
I still haven’t healed all the way,so my rib cage starts to burn, but I don’t care. There is no way I’m gonna stop now. She’s given herself to me, and I don’t know yet how far we will take this, but if all I have is tonight, I’m gonna take what she’s willing to give.
I slide my hands from her face, wind my fingers through her hair again, and then move my hands down to the hem of her sleep tee. She’s dressed for bed, braless and in pajama shorts, and the smooth lines of her thighs make my mouth water more than the plush lips that kiss me back with a fervor that matches mine.
I’m used to women wanting to fuck me, but this feels different. This feels like more. Claire cared for me. Smoothed back my hair when I was sleeping, fed me pain meds and water when I was too weak to hold up my own head. Between every kiss and touch, she’s looking at me like she fucking cares. Like the shit I’ve shared with her isn’t some black mark on my soul that drives her away. Instead, it’s a thing we share, a bond of something we both understand so deeply, it’s like we’re cut from two parts of the same cloth.
“Claire,” I murmur, my fingers skimming the soft flesh under the hem of her shirt. “Can I?—”
She cuts me off. “Anything. Yes to all of it, Savage.”
I waste no time taking what I want, but I’m not gonna be a fucking animal about it. If Claire is offering herself to me, then I’m gonna take the gift she’s giving and treat it the way she deserves to be treated. The way I’m gonna guess she hasn’t been treated in too long.
I slowly tug the top up and over her shoulders. Shehelps me work her arms out and then sits before me on the bed, her breasts firm and small but surprisingly full. Her skin pebbles, and her nipples grow hard as I watch the pink peaks. Long chestnut-brown hair falls down her back, and she parts her lips, her lids half lowered. She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and takes a long, slow breath, her chest rising and falling with the action. It’s like a siren’s call, and I can’t hold myself back.
I awkwardly pivot from where I’m sitting with my back against the headboard and lay her down on top of the covers. It’s my turn to kneel as she lies back, and I just look at every inch of her. The faded yellow bruises are gone, her belly is soft, and her tits… God, my mouth fucking waters as I decide where and how to touch her first.
I run my fingers along her bare arms, watching as her toes curl and her eyes close on a sweet, seductive sigh. Her breathing is steady, and I run my hands along her hands, lace my fingers through hers and squeeze, before moving to the sides of her ribs. I pass my hot hand over her breast, and she sucks air so fast I freeze. I keep going when she smiles and murmurs, “That’s so good. Don’t stop.”
Her nipples are soft and light pink. I trace a circle with my fingertips, drawing long strokes around her fullness until she whimpers and flexes her thighs.
“More?” I ask. “What do you like, baby?”
I want to hear her voice, confident, demanding. I want her to tell me what she wants and how she likes tobe touched. I want to know exactly how to please her, so I can give her everything she’s ever wanted and more.
“Suck me, squeeze me,” she says, her voice shaking.
I obey, lowering my hand and taking her tender nipples between my fingertips. I squeeze lightly, tugging the flesh toward me and watching as her entire body reacts. I tug and twist, slowly and softly at first, but then I work her nipples harder until the delicate skin is flushed a rosy red.
She gasps, gripping the sheets in her fingers. A cherry-colored blush blossoms on her chest, and her cheeks go pink. Her mouth is open, she’s licking her lips, and she’s working her hips in little squirming motions.
Every movement she makes sends bolts of heat to my cock, and before I know it, I’m so hard, I’m afraid I’m gonna split the seam of my sweatpants.
I am nowhere near ready to fuck this woman, no matter what my body demands, but I can’t wait a second longer to taste her. I lower myself carefully, holding back a stream of curses at the pain in my ribs, and straddle her thighs. I bend forward at the waist and kiss her breastbone, using my fingers to keep the pressure on her nipples.
She sighs at my kiss, but then a ragged spike shoots through my side. I roll off her and crash onto the mattress, facing the ceiling. “Nope,” I say through a laugh. “That ain’t happening.”
