Savage Road (Torpedo Ink 7) - Page 152

He knew the oil in her ass would be at its hottest and she would clench as he laid the stripes across those perfect cheeks. He spent time there, decorating her cheeks, watching her quiver, watching her body react to what he was doing to her. The endorphins released caused goose bumps to rise and sweat to glisten on her skin. Every time the switch licked flames across her flesh, she clenched beautifully, and the oil licked flames internally, sending them straight to her fiery little pussy.

He stopped to use his fingers on her, to stroke her nearly to orgasm, just stopping when she was close. So close. Her clit was swollen, screaming at her. Desperate for him now.

Her tears excited him. Her pain put absolute steel in his cock. Those stripes across her ass and going up her back and down her thighs made him so fucking hard he wanted to rip his jeans down and fuck that slick little pussy right then, but his monster was howling with joy, urging him on. He swung harder, watching the dark streaks rise on her cheeks with satisfaction.

Seychelle hissed. Pressed her forehead against the tree trunk. “Yellow. Savage. Yellow.”

Shit. What the fuck was wrong with him? She should never have to give him a warning. Not unless he was too far gone, and he wasn’t out of control, was he? He flung the switch far away from him and reached for her, his hands at her hips.

“Do you want to stop? I want to fuck you, baby, but we can stop, and I’ll carry you to the bedroll and put the lotion on you,” he whispered against the small of her back. A temptation. Yet it was also a plea. He fucking needed to bury his cock in her like the brutal animal he was. Like the sadistic monster from hell they’d created and he couldn’t shed.

“No, don’t stop. Give me your cock.” There was an urgent plea in her voice.

“Baby, you know when I’m like this, I’m going to be violent. You sure you’re okay with that?” One hand was already unzipping his jeans, freeing his brutal, vicious erection. The scars were stretched and painful. They needed the lubrication of her body, that special oil Preacher had made for them.

“I want you any way I can get you. Just hurry, please.” She pushed back against him.

Savage leaned into her because he couldn’t stop himself, his fingers sliding down her body possessively, from her shoulders to her ass. She hissed and clenched and then cried out softly. He slapped her left cheek hard and then her right.

“No sound, Seychelle. You know that.”

He repeated the motion over and over, using the pads of his fingers on her back and then his nails gently on her ass—watching her body’s reaction, letting her pain feed that place inside him that needed to see his woman fight for him. He reached between her legs and found her slick with need, hot with fire that was all for him. She tried riding his fingers, but he flicked her clit and pulled away, leaving her wanting, leaving her desperate.

He rubbed her cheeks again with one hand as he stroked himself, moving behind her to settle the broad head of his cock right at her slick entrance. She felt like an inferno beckoning to him, trying to drag him deep. He caught her hips and yanked hard as he drove forward, slamming into that tight tunnel. He threw back his head, wanting to roar into the night. She was fucking paradise every single time, taking him far away from his own head. He loved this. Fucking loved this. The monster roaring. This feeling of euphoria. Of Seychelle and Savage coming together in a wild fury of sheer vicious, mind-blowing sex.

He stared, enthralled at the mesmerizing welts on her body. At times he couldn’t resist slamming his hand against her striped cheek or running his fingernails over the curve of one to feel her shudder. Her body bathed his scarred cock in hot, spicy liquid even as she hissed a pretend protest. She pushed back frantically into him when he hammered into her as brutally as possible.

He refused to let this end. He took her up so many times. So many, holding her on the brink, then stopping her abruptly by pressing hard on her clit. “Not yet, baby. Not yet. You’re so out of control, you’d take me with you, and I don’t want this over.”

Savage bit the command out even as he continued to yank Seychelle back into him while he slammed his body into hers. The action smashed her against the trunk of the tree, and another low cry escaped her as he drove into her over and over. She tried to pull her torso away from the tree, even as she pushed her hips back onto him.

Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance
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