Page 142 of Savage Hearts

I gasped and arched closer to him, wanting more. His hand fondled me, playing with the supple flesh gently, as if he was taking his time to remember every single moment, every little interaction between us.

Something strange moved in his eyes when he slowly pulled my shirt off. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and my nipples tightened from the cool air in the room and from the look in his eyes.

I licked my lips and resisted the urge to cover myself.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked before.

“Your body is a work of art, angel,” he muttered, leaning down and taking one hardened tip into his mouth. I threw my head to the side, holding in a moan that wanted to escape, especially when he sucked me in, rolling the bud around with his teeth.

“Silas, please.”

“I know, baby. I know what you need.”

His hands grasped the waistband of the sweats I was wearing and pulled them down. Silas still hadn’t given me back any of my underwear, so I was bare underneath.

“Fuck,” he said. “Spread your legs for me.”

I did as he asked, spreading my legs, and he sat between them. Like this, he could see all of me. My skin felt hot, and I watched as he brought his thumb into his mouth, sucking on it as his eyes took me in.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

The heat intensified. I was sure he wasn’t talking about my face. As if to prove his point, he moved his hand down, the back of it skimming over my pussy lips. I could feel the muscles there tightening at his touch.

I pushed my hips up toward him, trying to get closer.

He pushed one hand down my stomach. “Nuh-uh, naughty girl. You’re to stay still until I give you permission to move.”

Was he torturing me? I made a small protesting noise, and he slapped my pussy.

My eyes widened, more in surprise than pain—though there was some pain, the asshole—and I gasped.

“What the hell?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. He liked control, and he liked rough, but that had been unexpected. The fucker just grinned at me.

“Are you going to be good?”

“Good?”

His hands started to massage my pussy lips. I gritted my teeth to keep from making any noise and giving him the satisfaction of seeing how badly he affected me.

I shook my head.

“That’s too bad,” he said softly. He slapped my pussy again.

I tried to arch away, but his body was in the way, and there was nowhere for me to go. “Silas!”

“Fuck, but look at this. Look at your pussy weeping for me.”

His fingers stroked my clit with sharp, purposeful moves, and I reached out, my nails raking down his forearm.

“Does this feel good, baby?” he asked.

I nodded, my previous anger at him quickly forgotten. “Please.”

“Are you going to be my good girl?”

Again, I nodded. I would have given him everything at this point if he asked. My heart, my body… mysoul.

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