Page 86 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

My fingers dig into his shoulders as my mind wars with my body’s demands. But there’s a high that comes with giving in, like a shot of adrenaline in my veins. So I bite my lip and force myself to nod.

His smirk tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and his eyes make it clear he’s not done pushing my boundaries.

“I’ve not even touched you, and yet you’re more than ready. You’d take my cock to the hilt right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Cade,” I breathe, his name slipping from my lips, my hips shifting despite my best effort to obey. My fingers claw at his shoulders and nape, begging for less and for more of this—him.

I shouldn’t want this—I’ve never wanted this. To give a man control and trust him with my body. But that’s exactly what I find myself doing his fingers drive me insane.

“Don’t be shy now. Tell me exactly what you want.”

I whimper. “Make me come.”

“More,” he commands, his eyes flashing with something dark and possessive. “Beg for it.”

Heat floods my face as our gazes lock. He’s testing me, taking me back to that moment in Sophie’s kitchen when I let my pride win.

Now, I’m too far gone. Now, I want to submit. “Please, Cade,” I whisper. “I need you.”

He arches an eyebrow. “What do you need? My fingers? My tongue?”

Oh God, he’s not letting up. “Your cock. Fuck me, please.”

Cade’s smirk turns dark with satisfaction, and I know I’ve given him exactly what he wants. “Not yet, my beautiful slut,” he murmurs. “You’ll have to earn it.”

I gasp as white-hot need and indignation spike in me. “You’re such a dick.” His low chuckle vibrating through me only ramps up my hunger

Suddenly desperate to drive him just as crazy as he’s driving me, I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull. “Take this off.”

Cade goes still, his eyes heating with something like bemusement, and I know he’s more used to giving pleasure than receiving it. He hesitates for a heartbeat, then with one swift motion, he grabs the back of his T-shirt and yanks it over his head. “Knock yourself out.”

Thesight of his torso, a masterpiece of hard muscle, ink, and scars, steals my breath. I’m about to run my hands over the mouthwatering display when my gaze lands on his rosary. An icy chill races down my spine.

That metal symbol of darkness and death makes me question everything I’m doing here. Reminds me of why I sent Reese that email.

It’s not real. He’s only reeling me. Shit. I’m an idiot.

My hands fall away, and I start to straighten, but Cade catches my retreat. His hand fists in my nape, forcing my gaze away from the rosary.

“Look at me.”

I try to meet his blazing eyes, but I can’t stop looking at those sinister beads glinting in the low light.

He tightens his grip just enough to get my attention, then he takes my hand and guides it to the angle of his jaw, pressing in there so I can feel his thundering pulse. When my gaze finally lifts to his, he slowly guides my hand down his neck, then lower and to the left, until he’s pressing my palm flat against the point his heart thunders beneath the muscle.

“You’re with me. Not a weapon. Not a symbol. Me.”

He releases my hand, then boldly wraps his own around my neck, applying light pressure. My breath catches, his dominance blurring the line between fear and desire.

And then his thumb flicks my clit.

“Cade!” I moan, my body arching into his touch, every nerve alight with need.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his hand firm around my neck as he works slow, torturous circles over my clit. “Stay right here with me.”

My hips move shamelessly, chasing his touch as pleasure obliterates everything else.

“You’re fucking starving for me,” he murmurs.

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