Page 16 of Savage Hearts

“You—”

I gasped when he moved his finger slightly across my clit. I closed my eyes.

“Yeah?” he asked, and he didn’t bother to hide the smile in his voice.

I grabbed the sheets and gripped them tightly in my fist.

“You fell asleep with me.” Twice.

“So I did,” he answered. “You’re different.”

“As if,” I said. What a fucking line. He didn’t need to say any of that to me. I was exactly where he wanted me, and whether I wanted to be here was irrelevant.

“Silas,” I said, trying to get out of bed.

He shook his head and smoothed his other hand down my shirt, to the hem. He slid his hand inside and placed it just below my breasts.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart beating too hard against my chest from his warm, bare hand against my skin. I wondered if he could feel how out of control my heart was reacting. Could hear it.

It certainly sounded loud in my ears.

“Touching you.” His warm breath hit my skin, and I shivered. “Worshiping you… reminding you.”

Had I known all along he was only here to abduct me, I wouldn’t have allowed even a kiss, no matter how innocent that kiss had seemed.

“You’re sick,” was all I could utter, because now the touches he placed on my clit weren’t gentle swipes but noticeable hard ones, as the pad of one rough finger moved in a circular motion around the bundle of nerves.

Heat built through me, and what was more, the telltale signs of my arousal.

My body’s physical reaction had nothing to do with my mind or my wants and desires, but fuck if his touches weren’t fucking me up a little more each time he swiped across, eliciting a wave of pleasure I had never felt so profoundly until him.

“Perhaps I am. I don’t know any other way to be,” he said quietly.

I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but he quickened his pace. I whimpered before I could think better of it, my back arching, my ass pushing into his hard-on.

“Silas,” I said, and at this point, I didn’t know if it was a protest or a plea.

I closed my eyes. I wished he would stop—and fuck. Don’t stop.

“Ride my hand, baby girl. Show me what I do to you,” he said urgently, gliding his hand down to my center, two fingers spreading the lips of my sex, but he didn’t enter me.

He teased the entrance. “Fuck. Look how wet you are for me already.”

I shook my head, not to deny his statement—I just didn’t know how to respond to his blunt words.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“It’s okay. This pussy belongs to me now. It’s fucking mine, and I always take good care of my things. I won’t ever neglect it. Now, be a good girl and ride my fucking hand, angel.”

Again, I shook my head, but this time, it was to answer him. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck my hand,” he retorted, moving said hand up and down my crease. I closed my eyes as I was hit with another bout of arousal, this one much more prominent. I had never felt like this before.

Tears stung my eyes as he continued to play with me. But they weren’t tears of sadness. No, this was much fucking worse. Everything was too…intense.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it. Good girl.”

I hadn’t even realized my hips were moving to the rhythm of his hand until he said it. Now that I was—I wasridinghis hand, I didn’t know how to stop.

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