Page 25 of Born Savage

The air was dense, the heat soon to suffocate us. For a few seconds, I was certain he’d pulled away the same as I’d done, coming to his senses. I was nothing but his prisoner in an ongoing war where the enemies had changed, those trustworthy almost nonexistent.

Everyone was out for themselves.

In the seconds of searching for reasons, for a telling regarding the other’s intentions, perhaps even hoping for a glimpse into a soul, I couldn’t breathe.

I sensed he was the same. Uncertain. Unyielding. Unnecessary.

The angry desire built again, swirling and feasting on emotions until something broke inside, a dam smashed by a longing no one would be able to understand.

We ripped at each other’s clothes, grunting and growling until we were completely breathless. I yanked off his shirt, taking long enough to bask in his physique. The men not encumbered by drugs and steroids had mostly withered away to skin and bones thanks to famine and fatigue.

Not this man. He was perfect in every way, every muscle carved to chiseled perfection. At least he allowed me another indulgence of tracing the outline of his muscles with my fingertips.

His fingers yanked at my shirt, tugging it free from my pants so he could slide his hands underneath. The first touch on my stomach brought more than merely another deep throb between my legs. His fingertips seared my skin, the intensity of fire forcing my head back and leaving me fighting a scream. No one could know what was happening between us.

And this would never happen again.

Very slowly, he removed my top, his chest heaving as he opened his fingers, allowing the material to fall to the floor. A nervous laugh left my lips even as he grabbed another handful of hair, yanking my head until my neck was exposed.

I tried to remind myself that he was a trained killer, but in the throes of such amazing passion, all I could think about was that this was an incredible way to go. My legs trembled and I closed my eyes while digging my fingernails into his arms. All while he swiped his tongue down the side of my neck, his heated breath leaving a trail that was followed by a series of goosebumps.

When he replaced his tongue with his teeth, raking them just under my jaw before moving across my collarbone, I knew I’d broken his skin with my tight hold. But he didn’t seem to care. With every second that passed, my heart continued thumping against my chest, my pulse skyrocketing. I was so dizzy from the passion, so breathless that I feared passing out.

A rustle of wind filtering through the cracks in the walls created a momentary howl. The sound was a reminder that there were real monsters eager to destroy any sense of joy. Anyone who took their eyes off the ball was much easier prey.

An awful noise, mournful and hollow pounded in my ears. Was I imagining creatures just outside the door? Were my body and mind eager to succumb to fatigue? Or was this another sign of things to come? I heard my breath hitch just before Rage pinched my chin, pulling my head so I was forced to lock eyes with him.

“I will protect you.” The four words were clearly enunciated, entirely too complex given the circumstances. Even with the number of Savages he’d traveled with, they couldn’t fight dozens of Borgata or worse, the Freedom Hunters whose sole job was to hunt and capture Savages for sheer entertainment.

But hearing Rage’s voice, the deep, almost melodic cadence brought a sense of hope in a hopeless world.

It also brought another, more intense wave of hunger.

Another rumbling growl captured and held my attention as he pushed my chin upward while deftly removing my bra. The slight chill tracing lines in my skin was quickly warmed by his hot breath. First, he nipped my earlobe, sucking while driving me against the wall. With his other hand, he unfastened my pants, taking his time to unzip as if there was no worry about our actions.

As if the ongoing danger meant nothing.

With the cold air, every muscle should be shaking, but the closeness of his massive body kept me so warm.

The same hot breath skipped along the base of my throat before he lowered his head, daring to flick his tongue across my aching nipple.

A slight laugh pushed past my lips and I pressed my head against the solid surface, uncertain how to feel since the territory was so unknown.

The fluttering sensations inside my belly increased much like the vibrations crisscrossing the skin. The way his fingers danced across my bare skin was incredible. He gathered one hardened bud with his lips, lightly sucking while rubbing his thumb across the other.

All I could concentrate on were the sounds he was making, decisive and primal. Every guttural breath highlighted his rapidly increasing hunger. Somehow, I knew we were past a point of shattering the connection, too far gone mentally. Whatever this was, the Savage was insistent on claiming me.

He rolled his lips to my other nipple, taking his time sucking and biting as my legs continued to shake. When he finally tugged on my pants, able to yank the dense material past my hips, my gasp was as strangled as my breathing. There was no time to process my emotions before he slipped his hand between my thighs, rubbing his fingers across my panties.

Against my sex.

I sucked in and held my breath, blinking profusely as bright lights converged over my eyes. Was I seeing things? Was my reaction normal? Or was something wrong with me?

His heavy sigh escaped exactly when I needed some sense of knowing if I was damaged goods. A tiny smile crossed my face, a moan of relief that seemed to catch him by surprise. He lifted his head, his chest rising and falling.

“You’re so wet for me.” He rubbed his fingers in a long line, his actions slow and easy while pushing the material between my swollen folds. The friction was amazing and soon I was trembling all over. My panties were drenched and the pressure from his fingers boosted the excitement.

Every reaction left me wild with need. I bucked my hips as he stroked me harder through the fabric until the perfect rhythm was created. When I closed my eyes, I was able to envision being in a beautiful setting, the Grand Canal of Venice, a hotel room with French doors open to the serene setting below.