Page 44 of Wicked Savage

“You got to fuck God knows how many women and I only ever get to fuck you?”

Even though I’m one hundred percent certain there’s no one better out there.

His jaw tightens. “None of them ever meant anything. And if I could go back, I’d change it all. But it doesn’t matter now, baby, because you’re stuck with me.”

His smirk makes the ache between my thighs grow until I find myself grinding on his lap, his cock thick and hard against my core.

“Is there a way to get unstuck?”

His hand brushes gently under my chin, his eyes dark and burning with raw intensity. “No matter how hard you try, leannan, I’m always going to be there, reminding you how right we’ve been from the moment we met.”

A rush of need floods through me as his free hand fists my hair, dragging my face down until his mouth crashes into mine. “Cillian,” I groan in between kisses.

His growl is deep and demanding as he takes me roughly, teeth nipping, his tongue invading me and sucking mine into his mouth. I’ve never in my life been kissed this way. Like this man is trying to devour me or remind me that I am his in every sense.

Maybe both.

For a moment, I wonder if my mother would’ve liked him.

And then the reality hits: she’ll never be there to see me get married or be there when I have a baby. She’ll never share in those moments, never laugh or cry, because she’s gone. A tightness grips my chest, the sadness creeping in just as he pulls away, his hand gently resting on my nape.

I sigh deeply, letting my face fall into the curve of his neck, my arms wrapping around him and holding him close. His palm moves in slow, comforting strokes along my back, and even though he doesn’t know it, his touch eases the ache.

“You alright, babe?” His voice is soft, laced with genuine concern, and it twists something inside me.

I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat, and force a smile as I pull away from his touch. “Yeah, sorry. I’m good.”

He doesn’t buy it. His eyes stay locked on mine, his brows knitting as he studies my face for any crack in my mask.

Before he can respond, our waitress arrives with the food, rolling a cart toward us, but Cillian doesn’t even look at her. His focus never leaves me, concern still written across his face.

“That looks good,” I say, trying to redirect him, hoping the distraction works.

When the waitress stops right in front of our table, I can’t help but notice how unfazed she is by the sight of me practically humping Cillian. Then again, I’m sure he’s paying a lot for this private room.

We both thank her, and once she sets the plates down, I try to stand, but Cillian tightens his arm around me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His warm breath grazes my neck, igniting a rush of sensation that ripples through me, heat pooling low and urgent.

“My seat, so I can eat?” I raise a brow, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

His gaze darkens, desire flickering in his eyes. “You’ll stay right here on my lap like a good girl, where I can feed you.”

My stomach clenches, heat sparking in the space between us. The tips of my fingers trace his jaw, grazing his rough stubble. A surge of heat pulses through me as I lower my lips to his, the kiss soft and tentative.

He groans, his fingers threading into my hair, but he doesn’t rush it, letting me lead instead.

“I can be a good girl.” My lips drop to his throat, kissing up that beating pulse, that rough skin. “A very good girl.”

“I don’t know about that.” His head falls backward, and I love watching him turned on.

I suck on his skin, circling my hips against his hardness while he grunts and arches into me until a moan slips out from my throat. I slide a hand between us, stroking his hard erection through his trousers.

“Fuck, you need to stop.”

“Don’t think so.” I stroke him faster, my lips feathering over his while my hand slides up and down to a quicker tempo.

His teeth grind, the need rattling his bones until he grabs my wrist and roughly drags my hand away.

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