Savage Road (Torpedo Ink 7) - Page 46

“I’m sorry. I am nervous. Excited. Wanting this. But very nervous.”

“Good girl. You have to be honest, baby. Every single time. You can’t bullshit with me or yourself. You’re done, you have to say so. It’s okay to be afraid. To say slow down, or stop for a minute and let me catch my breath. Talk it over. That you need reassurance. We’re partners in this. Use the traffic signals—red, yellow, green. We talked about that, remember?”

“You need this.”

“I’ll teach you to need it with me, if that’s your choice.” His heart practically stopped. It had to be her choice. Let her choose him. He didn’t deserve her, but let her choose him anyway. He was giving her an out again. He would every time.

“You’ve always been my choice. This is my choice, Savage. I’m not going into it with my eyes closed or with rose-colored glasses. I know what I’m getting into. I’m nervous, but I’m also excited. I mean that. I am.”

He had to take her at her word. He walked around her, slowly, anticipating, his cock nearly bursting with greedy lust while his heart was bursting with love for her. She lay on the dark-blue couch, looking like a sacrifice. Her hair was just as wild and untamed as the sea outside their home. Her skin was pale and unmarked, waiting for his expertise, the signs of his possession, the promise of her love for him.

He reached down and took her right wrist to guide it into the loop that was at the bottom edge of the couch and slipped her hand into it. She lay quietly while he wrapped her ankle with the leather loop, leaving her completely open to him.

“I can feast on you. It feels like far too long since I’ve had that opportunity.”

Savage leaned down and brushed kisses over her breast, his tongue swirling over her nipple, licking and then sucking at it. He fucking loved her tits. He loved her body. Her heart. Her soul. Everything about her. The fact that she lay spread-eagled for him and let him slip her ankles and wrists into restraints and never hesitated should have shocked him, but it didn’t. This was Seychelle.

There was that scent of hers, the heady, potent fragrance that was on her skin and in her hair. When he kissed her, he could taste the wild strawberry mixed with honey, so subtle, but it was there, right along with the fire in her mouth. He could kiss Seychelle for the rest of his life and never get tired. Never. He lifted his head and traced her lips with his. Breath to breath.

“I love you, baby. More than life. Thank you for having the courage to love me the way I am.”

Savage closed his teeth over her bottom lip, that temptation that drove him insane more than once during the day, and bit down slowly while his finger circled her clit and then flicked and thrummed, while another finger slid deep in and out of her. All the while, his eyes never left her blue ones. It was a fucking mind fuck to watch the way her pupils dilated and her breathing changed, going ragged, her hips rising to meet his finger, her channel so hot and slick and tight. He let go with his teeth and licked at the little wound. Kissed his way down her stubborn little chin and took another bite before standing up again.

“Savage.” She nearly wailed his name.

He smiled at her. She thought she was close now. Wanting release. He hadn’t even gotten started. “Have a little patience, baby. We’re taking things slow, remember?” She had to be ready. So hot. So needy. He had to take her up slow. Keep her on the edge.

He caught up the bottle of lotion he’d put on the floor beside the couch and poured some in his hand. “You like attention to your tits, and I don’t want to take any chances with clamps making you too sore, especially when the run is coming up and we may need to use those for our fun instead of anything else. I’m giving you something special here.”

He rubbed his palms over her nipples, coating them in the lotion. It would go on cool at first. Soothing even. The heat would start slow. Very slow. Then the lotion would begin to tighten her nipples, and as it did, the burn would begin. He knew it wouldn’t be too intense. The stuff was edible. Practically anything Preacher came up with for them to use was edible, but this lotion was extremely popular. Preacher was a genius when it came to making them sexual lubricants. He had a vivid, wicked imagination.

Savage stood then, towering over her. Very, very gently, he trailed the tails of the whip from her throat, over the curve of her tits, those gorgeous hard little nipples standing so erect for him, down the valley between her breasts and then along her belly. Her eyes followed him, those big blue eyes so adoring, and a little fearful. That added to the excitement. She looked beautiful. Her tits rising and falling rapidly, nipples hard little peaks. The leather falls trailed lower, to her bare mound, where he wanted to put his name someday.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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