Page 137 of Savage Hearts

I was just lonely, I decided.

Lonely and fucking horny, and the bastard had definitely used that against me.

Or, hell, maybe I’d used him.

Killian scared me more than his brothers did, even Maverick, the leader of this crime syndicate, and that should say something, considering Maverick’s reputation in the underbelly of the crime world.

But he was also the only one who’d asked, and I had said yes.

I closed my eyes as my cheeks tightened from the small blush forming.

I had said yes, and I couldn’t even lie to myself that the yes was said under duress or fear, because a huge part of me had wanted it.

Had wanted him to touch me the way Silas and Maverick had touched me, and a stupid part of me had wanted him to look at me with the same softness I’d caught in his brothers’ eyes from time to time, reserved solely for me.

Blame it on a childhood filled with neglect and abuse.

Whatever the fucking reason, I suddenly found myself craving the affection of these savage men. I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

I wanted to be the only woman in this world that owned their souls.

That night with Silas, when he had—rightfully—accused me of plotting against him and his brothers, was the turning point for me.

I was reminded of what I had always known that night.

Only the strongest survive in this world, and I was so goddamn tired of being weak.

How strong would I be if I had these monsters wrapped around my fingers?

How strong would I be if I made the people most called savages fall in love?

I had heard the guards refer to the brothers as such when they didn’t think I could hear them. It seemed the brothers had earned a reputation for themselves as the Savages of Las Vegas.I didn’t know what they had done to earn the nickname, and I didn’t want to know.

All I knew was that they were strong in this world filled with monsters, and I wasn’t. And I wanted to be strong.

So I plotted that night and every night since to win their affection. Yet it seemed they remained sturdy and strong, able to resist any and every strong emotion inflicted upon every human, while I ended up falling headfirst over the fucking cliff.

I was fucking losing.

It was a psychological mind game and I was. Fucking. Losing.

Only, I didn’t miss the fact that I was the only one who had gotten off. No matter the psychological—sexual—games we played, I was the only one who had come undone. They got nothing in this exchange.

It should have put them at a disadvantage.

It didn’t.

I should count myself lucky they hadn’t forced me to do anything for them. Instead, it left me fucking confused.

Again, this was probably some psychological mind game they were playing with me, and if that was the case?—

Well, they were fucking masterminds, because I was sitting here thinking how “lucky” I was that my captors weren’t much worse.

I still had my virginity intact.

Worse, I didn’t know if—whenI lost my virginity, if it would be taken from me, orif I would willingly give it to one of them.

Or if I would even enjoy it.

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