Savage Road (Torpedo Ink 7) - Page 107

Savage was careful to make everything her choice. She knew it was far more arousing to him that she chose to let him do the things to her body that he did. He wanted her to give her consent every single time. In essence, it was giving herself to him—giving him her trust every time. He seemed to need that from her.

The first smack on her left cheek was an explosion of fire that raced up her spine and down her thighs. It hurt like hell. Savage usually warmed her up first, with a series of gentler strikes. He told her how many times he was going to smack her bottom. This felt different. She didn’t know if it was the cane marks and the deeper bruising or the way he didn’t let up, his palm coming down hard on her buttocks, activating those terrible, fiery stripes.

He’d said intense. He might as well have said excruciating. She couldn’t stop the tears. She’d been determined not to cry, to give him that, when she knew he wanted her tears, but she couldn’t help it.

He paused, rubbing her bottom. “Relax into this, Seychelle. Surrender to the pain. Let it carry you away. You’re tensing up.” His voice was softer than ever, his palms spreading the fire around, until that fist in her belly grew darker and thicker. His thumb brushed her clit, and her entire body shuddered with hunger. She was drenched instantly, hungry for him. “Relax for me, angel. You like this. You need it.”

She couldn’t help responding to his voice. To that dark lust growing in her belly. The flames his thumb produced as he flicked and teased. Then he was smacking her again. Hard. The backs of her thighs. Her sit spot. The curve of each cheek. Again and again. The pain at first was agony. She was certain she would have to call out her safe word, but then she found herself drifting away. Floating on the pain. Letting it take her somewhere far away.

Tears came, but it didn’t matter; it was more of a release than sobbing because she hurt. She was floating somewhere in a space she didn’t recognize. The screaming in her head calmed, and all around her she drifted with stars. Deep in her core, the throbbing and heat came together into a swirling pool of molten liquid. She saw it burning bright in the middle of a vortex of stars, a bright, hot volcanic pond that glowed orange and red as it splashed high into the air, threatening to explode.

Her breath came in ragged, desperate pants as Savage rubbed her blazing cheeks, massaging in deep circles she felt all the way through her entire body. He slipped one finger into her wet, clenching pussy while his thumb brushed her throbbing, inflamed clit. She pushed back against his hand and he gave her a second finger.

“I don’t know how you can be so scorching hot and fucking tight, woman.”

Seychelle moved against his hand, tried to ride his fingers since he didn’t move them, just thrust them into her and then went still. Only that thumb stroked her clit, but not enough. A touch, no more, just enough to make her want to scream at him for more attention. Abruptly, he pulled his fingers free and licked them.

“On your feet, baby.”

His hands went to her waist, and he guided her gently to a standing position between his thighs. She was unsteady, her body shaking, trembling, barely able to stay upright. She caught at his thighs to keep from falling.

“Savage.”

“You needed that, didn’t you, Seychelle?”

She sank her teeth into her lower lip, tears still streaming down her face. Her bottom was on fire, but he was right: she had needed him to spank her. To ground her. Now she wanted his cock buried in her. She wanted to feel him moving in her, claiming her. She nodded, lifting her gaze to his.

He was staring at her with his blue eyes, dark with lust, watchful. Cold like a glacier. Merciless. Possessive. His fingers bit into her hips as he pulled her in tight against his body so that the tips of her breasts pressed tight to his chest. It felt as if twin matches had lit flames to her nipples, and a moan escaped before she could stop it.

He leaned forward and sipped at the tears on her face, licking at the tracks, first on the right side and then on the left, before he pulled back to look down at her. “I love how you look right now. I fucking love it, Seychelle. I want you to kneel down, right there. Right where you are. I think it’s time you learned how to suck my cock the way I like it, baby.” Savage opened his jeans and then slid off the table. He fisted the thick girth in his hand and lazily pumped, his eyes dark with lust. “Another lesson in dirty, sinful sex.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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