Page 129 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

When my lips close around his leaking cock, a guttural curse rips from his throat.

“Fuck—”

One deep suck. Two. His abs flex, the muscles rippling beneath my hands. I take him deeper, cupping his balls as his body bows off the mattress. His fingers tighten painfully in my hair, and then he’s spilling into my mouth.

I moan, relishing his explosive response, swallowing repeatedly as he shudders beneath me. Only when he’s spent do his hands loosen their grip.

Cade collapses back against the mattress, his chest heaving, his dark eyes pinned on mine. He looks wrecked—in the best way—and the sight makes my lips curve into a smug smile.

“Wow, Cade, if that felt remotely as good as it looked . . .”

He returns my wicked smile, but there’s something darker, hungrier behind his. “Why don’t I show you just how good it felt?”

Then he’s moving, rolling on top of me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his heat seeping into my skin as his mouth claims me all over again.

We don’t stop until the sun climbs high in the sky. Until we’re too spent to resist the pull of sleep, only to wake, reaching for each other again.

39

Luna

“Do you think Scar’s okay?” I ask.

Cade’s hand tightens on my denim-covered thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles. He’s been like this all day—constantly touching me. Only problem is, every time I return the favor, we end up stopping. It seems Cade can’t be touched without . . . overreacting.

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Cade snorts.

“Dunno. He seemed off this morning.”

Scar’s bear hug had nearly crushed me before we left, and his tight smile hadn’t reached his eyes.I’ll see you soon,he’d whispered, like he knew something I didn’t.

I shake off the memory. “Even Saint, too, seemed off. Moody. He wouldn’t even wag his tail or offer his belly for a scratch.”

Cade chuckles, “No, baby, he wasn’t moody. He was shy.”

“Shy?”

“Yeah. He’s never been a suckass for anyone else, and didn’t want to lose his cred in front of Scar.”

I laugh. “Cred? He’s a dog!”

“He’s a very intelligent Cane Corso,” Cade corrects, flashing me a grin. “And he takes his job of guarding his people and his territory seriously.”

“Just like his owner?” I tease, tracing the vein on the back of his hand.

Cade’s grin widens. “Watch it, princess.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll be facing a clubhouse full of bikers with a red face and buckling knees. We’re ten minutes away.”

I know exactly what he means by that. We’ve stopped twice in three hours. I can barely walk as is. I ignore the throbbing between my legs at his dark promise and whirl around to glance out the window.

We’ve entered a small, quiet town with cracked sidewalks and weathered storefronts.

“You’re tense,” I say softly, my eyes catching the rigid line of his jaw. “Why?”

Cade glances at me, his gaze shuttered. “I may have been born in Harmony, but Valencia? This is where I got fucked up.”

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