Page 172 of Wicked Savage

By the time I’ve eaten nearly all of it, my body is thrumming with awareness, my chest rising and falling a little too fast.

Cillian sets the fork down, his lips ghosting over my ear. “Dance with me.”

Before I can agree, he shifts, effortlessly lifting me as he stands. My hands grip his shoulders as he sets me on my feet. His thumb grazes my cheek, his gaze searching, completely unnerving me as he holds out a hand for mine.

And of course, I take it.

Music hums from his phone as he selects a song, then pulls me close, one hand resting at my waist, the other holding mine against his chest. The slow melody wraps around us, and we sway together in the dim light. His touch is warm. Grounding. Protective.

For a moment, I close my eyes, letting myself sink into him, into this. The safety of his arms, the quiet intimacy of it all. My cheek rests against his chest, my fingers curling against the fabric at his back.

When I veer just enough to look up at him, his gaze is already locked on mine, the tension between us thickening, crackling like a live wire.

Dark. Intense. Unrelenting.

His palm slides up to my nape, fingers threading into my hair, and he leans in, his mouth hovering just above mine.

A tremor runs through me, making it hard to focus on anything but the nearness of him.

And right before his lips touch mine, he murmurs, “Taim i ngrá leat.”

I have no idea what it means, but the way he says it—low, full of passion—tells me it has the power to ruin me. And when his mouth finally captures mine, I let it. Because in this moment, I know for sure—I’m falling for him all over again.

And this time, I might not survive it.

CHAPTER47

CILLIAN

I carryher into our bedroom, lowering her onto the mattress, my lips never leaving hers as I strip away her clothes, then slide out of my own.

The heat of her bare skin against mine is a fucking brand, scorching into me, making it impossible to think of anything but her.

Her hands are everywhere—gripping, pulling, desperate—as though she needs to feel every inch of me. I kiss her slow, like I’ve got all the time in the world to remind her that she’s mine. Our bodies press together, fitting in a way that feels just right, like we were built for this.

Dragging back just enough to look at her, I skim my knuckles down her cheek, my jaw tight.

“I’m sorry.” My voice is filled with everything I can’t put into words. “I’ll never hurt you again, Dinara. I swear.”

“I know.” Her gentle palm clasps my cheek, her touch like the antidote to the hell I’ve endured every day without her.

When her mouth strokes mine, I groan, sliding my fingers into her hair, holding her closer. My cock nudges into her, and I feel myself come undone.

“You’re mine, always, for the rest of my life.”

And with a single thrust, I’m inside her, my mouth crashing with hers, swallowing every gasp and every cry.

Her nails dip into my back as my hips drive into her, needing to claim, to own, to make her feel everything I feel in my heart. She tugs at my hair, kissing me with equal savagery.

I never thought we’d get here, to a place where she’d even consider forgiving me, but I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I deserve this. Proving I deserveher.

I flip her onto her stomach, my body forcing her into the mattress as I sink deeper. Her soft curves mold against me, her back arching as she takes every inch.

“Fuck, baby,” I groan, my hips pounding into her. “You take me so damn good.”

Her body is so tight, so wet, sucking me in, clenching around me like she never wants to let go.

“I love you, Dinara.”

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