Page 35 of Savage Reign

We looked at each other as he moved, thrusting inside me at a languid, steady pace at first until I felt a prickling of tears in my eyes from the pleasure, knowing it was going to be too much soon and not enough. Fuck, butnot enough. His strokes were steady and slow, dragging out the torture and taking a little more of me each time I felt him forcefully push back inside.

I grabbed his hips, wanting him to move faster against me, wanting so much more of him; I didn’t know what to do with myself.

He complied, his movements harsh and messy and out of control. I watched his face, his blue eyes encased in a kind of darkness I didn’t think I had ever seen before—the kind that I could easily fall into—his tan skin flushed, and his lips swollen. It was as I looked into his eyes, when he held me captive simply from watching me, that I felt the first wave of the orgasm.

My heart dropped from the sensation, and he doubled his efforts, fucking me harder.

A sound I had never made—never thought I would make—wrung from my lips as shockwave after shockwave spurted through my entire being.

I wrapped myself around him, my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips, urging him to go harder, go faster. The bed rocked with his next thrust, and his next one, and the next. A sob burst free from my lips, and I buried my face in his neck. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging on it roughly when I found myself pushed to the abyss, and his movements continued, drawing out the orgasm.

I cried harder into his skin.

“That’s it, little monster,” he said softly beside me, the gentle tone a contradiction to his brutal movements. I didn’t think I could take it anymore. A second orgasm hit unexpectedly, and I clung harder to him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growled, the rumble coming out of his chest doing nothing but heightening the sensation for me. A third, small baby orgasm pushed through, and?—

That was it. My arms and legs fell away as I found I could no longer do anything more but lay there.

Maverick pulled back and looked at me, the movements of his hips never stopping. His huge body shook above me, and I watched, fascinated, as he lost control completely.

With a roar, he came inside me; the sensation of his cum dripping in andaround mewas strange and as addicting as it had been that first time.

It didn’t matter that we didn’t use a condom. It was moot at this point, and there was something… freeing about the thought. That I didn’t have to worry because the cause of my worry already came true.

Once he expelled his cum inside me, I felt his whole body relax before he let his weight go slightly. Not enough to crush me, but enough for me to feel his solid form. For me to take comfort in the protective blanket that was his body on top of mine.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sudden silence of the room, save for our harsh breathing, feeling his chest pushing in and out against mine. I rubbed my hand over his back, taking in all the dips and curves of his hard muscles there.

“You’re real,” I said, surprising myself when my voice came out clearly in the room. I hadn’t meant to say it so loud… or at all.

Maverick pulled away from me to take in my face. “Real, baby.”

We didn’t say anything for a moment. Then I nodded, and he smiled.

He pulled out of me—the wet sound my pussy made, plus the sensation of him moving inside of me and the spillage of his cum sliding out, made me shudder.

He shot me a knowing grin, looking almost proud of himself. I lightly slapped his shoulder and rolled my eyes. He retaliated by pinching my nipple, and I let out a harsh exhale but didn’t pull away. I knew better, knowing he would only draw out the torture if I fought him.

Luckily, he didn’t prolong the pain, pulling away from me after two long seconds, his eyes going down to the poor abused flesh. I didn’t miss the dark expression that passed over his face. He loved it when he hurt me. When he played rough.

And I might be just as bad as he was because I didn’t… hate it. Not even a little. Not at all.

His arms went around my waist then, and in one quick, smooth move, he lifted me up and around until he was lying on his back on the bed, and I was on top of him, my legs on either side of him.

I sat up, both of my hands braced on his chest. His eyes were unreadable as he watched me, waiting to see what I would do. And for a moment, I wasn’t even sure myself, but then…

I found myself lying back down on his body, the side of my face pressed to his chest, and listening to his heartbeat.

I closed my eyes as he played with my hair, feeling most of the exhaustion of the week falling off my shoulders. The feeling of it, the lightening of the pressure, was so good that I felt tears prick my eyes.

I didn’t say anything, and neither did he, though I was sure he felt my tears wet his skin.

We just stayed there in the contentment, and that was all there was to it.

12

MILA

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