Page 75 of Savage Hearts

I blindly reached for his hair once more, pulling on it roughly. The pain only seemed to spur him on, and he doubled down on his efforts.

I couldn’t tell whether I was wet from his saliva or my own arousal.

He drove two thick fingers inside me. I squirmed on the seat when he started to fuck me with them in quick, brutal thrusts.

“Oh… Oh…Oh!” I screamed as I hit my peak.

Maverick sat up on the seat, still trapped between my legs.

He slapped my pussy several times. Not hard enough to hurt, but not gentle, either.

“Fuck!Stop,” I screamed brokenly when I felt the tap over my sensitive clit.

He smiled viciously, and slapped my pussy three more times, as if to prove that he could.

All that did was make me come harder.

My legs quivered, and my orgasm seemed to go on forever.

He rubbed his fingers over his lips, baring his teeth.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he muttered. “My little cunt.”

I gasped when he pushed one thick finger inside me again and kept it there.

His smile widened, making him look even more vicious…savage.

I couldn’t even remember where I was or why I was there.

It was only me and him in this small, enclosed space, filled with nothing but our heavy breathing and the afternoon sun hitting the windows.

For a moment, I forgot that he was a man I was supposed to hate.

Supposed to fear.

I wanted to stay in the small space with him and?—

Awareness seeped into my mind.

I realized we had stopped.

Wherever it was we were supposed to go, it seemed we had arrived.

I wasn’t ready to face the world.

Not just because I was in too-short of a dress, but I didn’t have any panties and my pussy was wet.

He pumped his finger lazily inside me, and my face contorted, unsure if I wanted him to pull out completely, or fuck me harder.

He made the choice for me and withdrew. The squelching noise my pussy made when he did it, as well as our erratic breathing, were the only sounds in the car.

Maverick watched me.

He seemed fascinated with my expression, and I quickly took in his black suit.

I’d messed up his hair, but it wasn’t a bad look on him. It looked like he had done it on purpose.

Besides the shininess on his lips—fromme—he looked like a formidable crime boss of Chicago.

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