Page 126 of Wicked Savage

“No, you’re not.” His jaw clenches, and the possessive undertone makes me feel things I hate to admit.

“Shouldn’t you go back to your date? Or is she your wife?” My mouth curls, while the pain is almost unbearable.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” His gaze burns through me.

“So ask.” My lips tip up.

He pushes up my chin, forcing my head higher, his eyes boring deeper. “Does he fuck you like I did?” His mouth brushes mine, and I let out a gasp. “Does he make you tremble when you come?”

His fingers stroke up my inner thigh, grazing my core through my panties.

“You should stop.”

He flips the lace to the side. “Is that what you really want, Dinara?” He rolls a finger over my clit. “Or do you still ache for me the way I ache for you?”

No. No, I don’t. Please don’t stop.

But I can’t say that out loud. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Does he touch you like this?” He pushes a tip into my entrance. “Does he make you this needy? This wet for him?”

“He’s better.” I grit the words out, barely able to speak.

“Don’t do that,” he husks, tightly clasping my throat. “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”

“You really think you’re the only man who can fuck me like that? You’re not.”

His features twist with one part lust, the other rage. It’s so hot, I almost come just from looking at him.

He bites my bottom lip, his voice rough with frustration. “I hate that I still want you this much.”

His fingers slowly press inside me, stretching me as I gasp, unable to stop the moans slipping from my lips.

“Don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual.”

His chuckle is dripping with arrogance. “Look at you.” His hand slides from my throat to twist my hair around his wrist. “You’re still mine.”

“Never.” I narrow my eyes as he sinks deeper. “All you are, and all you’ll ever be, is a good fuck. Nothing more.”

“Is that right?”

Thrust.

“Mm-hmm.”

Thrust.

“We’ll see about that.”

And in a split second, he flips me around, pushing my head down until I’m bent over for him, my ass completely on display.

“Fuck,” he hisses, giving it a slap. “So damn perfect.”

Practically ripping my panties down, he slides his fingers even deeper until I’m clawing the wall, crying out in sheer pleasure. He doesn’t stop, not until I’m dripping. I barely register the sound of his belt buckle as it comes undone, the zipper next, until his pants are pooled against his ankles.

His fingers return to my throat, clasping it tight. “I’m gonna remind you what a good fuck is, baby, and I’m gonna erase every bastard who took my place.”

There’s no one who could ever take his place, and that’s the most heartbreaking truth of all.

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