Page 39 of Savage Vows

Then he curves his palms against my rear, making me sway toward him.

Painfully he digs his fingers into my flesh. “This is mine.”

“Yes.” I shouldn’t admit it, but I can’t help myself.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” His husky tone is threaded with desire. “Every curve, every inch of you is perfection.”

He’s going to spank me, punish me for something I’d do all over again. Yet the thought of his hands on me, of him taking control, has me throbbing with need.

He rubs his hands over my ass, squeezing gently. I squirm.

“Keep still.”

The man who wants to be my husband continues to caress my ass, his touch becoming firmer, more insistent.

Then, without warning, he slides a hand between my thighs. I’m already wet from his earlier teasing, and my response is instantaneous. With a tiny moan, I move against his hand.

“So eager, little rebel.” He presses his thumb against my clit, and I try to jerk away. I’m still tender from the way he wedged my panties into my crotch earlier.

He begins to circle the small bundle of nerves. In response, my hips buck as waves of pleasure radiate from his touch.

He teases me mercilessly, bringing me to the edge of orgasm before backing off, leaving me panting and desperate.

I try to grind against his hand, seeking the release I so desperately crave, but he holds me firmly in place, denying me any control. “Keep still.”

Then he slides two fingers deep inside me and begins to fuck me. I cry out, and my body clenches around him as he thrusts in and out, his pace deliberate and maddeningly slow. With his other hand, he presses against my anus, not entering, just applying enough pressure to send a forbidden thrill chasing through me.

“Matteo …” I shake with need.

The combination of sensation—of his fingers inside me, his thumb on my clit, and the pressure against my ass—is overwhelming. I’m teetering on the brink of an explosive orgasm, every part of me consumed with desire.

“Not yet, Alessia,” he commands. “You’ll come when I say you come.”

He’s denying me an orgasm?

On and on he goes, finger-fucking me, his pace increasing, his touch becoming rougher, more demanding. I’m a writhing, moaning mess, and my body has completely surrendered to his.

The pleasure is intense, almost unbearable, and I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer.

“Please, Matteo,” I beg, my voice barely recognizable. “Please let me come.”

Instead, he stops entirely and steps back.

Shaking, I lift my head. Eyes wide, I search his face.

“Stay in position, Alessia.”

I shake my head. He can’t mean that. “I’m?—”

“You’re being punished,” he reminds me, a stern note in his voice.

I thought he was a terrible human being, but he’s much, much worse. No one has ever turned me inside out with desire before.

Being this turned on is physically painful. “I’ve been tormented enough, Matteo.”

“I’m just beginning, sweet rebel.”

He takes another small step back, and I clench my buttocks, bracing for what’s coming.

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