Page 29 of Savage

She took me out, squeezed once, then used her thumb to flick my piercing.

“Oh, shit!” I yelled, my pelvis thrusting into her palm.

I was gone. There was nothing left of me but the need to fuck. Hard. Fast. Deep. To make my woman scream while I filled her womb with my seed.

I slammed inside her, burying myself to the hilt. Her head fell back against the wall, and her nails raked down my shoulders, her entire body trembling around me. Tight. Hot. Perfect. Her pussy squeezed me like it already knew I was the only one who’d ever be inside her. Knew who owned it.

“Mine,” I grunted. “My pussy. Say it.”

“Yours!” she cried out, her inner muscles pulsing around my cock.

I fucked her like I was branding her from the inside out, my hips slamming into hers with punishing force, one arm locked under her thigh, the other cupping the back of her skull to protect her from getting hurt again. My lips never stopped—kissing her mouth, neck, and jaw, while whispering every filthy, possessive thought that filled my mind.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.

It was feral.

“Tight little pussy was made for me,” I growled, my forehead pressed to hers. “Made for taking my cock and having my babies. You hear me?”

“Yes! Yes! Talon!”

I pounded in and out, stretching her, taking her, owning her. “Fuck! Oh fuck, Tamara! That’s it, baby! Fuck!”

Her walls clamped down around me, tight and greedy, and I felt her climax slam into her like a freight train. Her body bowed, her mouth open on a silent cry, her nails sinking deep into my back.

I followed a heartbeat later, thrusting so deep I could’ve sworn our souls tangled. My piercing bumped against her cervix as I shot load after load until I’d emptied every drop inside her.

I held her there, pressed to the wall, both of us panting like we’d just survived a raging storm. Then again, that wasn’t all that far off. When Tamara and I collided, it was as if the world was thrown into chaos. My heart thundered, her breaths were ragged, and for a long moment, we didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to.

Eventually, when my legs were steady enough, I carried her to the bed and gently set her down. Settling myself on top of her, I kissed her again, slow and reverent, my lips moving over hers like a vow.

Because even when I was at my most primal—especially then—she was still everything.

12

SAVAGE

Ileft her sleeping. Naked, sated, and wrapped in the sheets like a gift I didn’t deserve.

The room smelled like her. Sex, sweat, and mine. Her pale skin was flushed, lips kiss-swollen, wild curls tangled on my pillow like spun honey. It took everything I had to tear myself from that bed. To walk out knowing if she woke up alone, she’d worry over me.

But this bullshit needed to fucking end.

No matter what happened tonight, I was ready to move forward with my future.

With Tamara.

I was done holding back from my woman. When I got home, I’d give her my property patch and slide my ring on her finger.

The clubhouse was quiet and dark as I stalked through it, but my boots echoing against the concrete as I stepped into the garage and found everyone already waiting.

Fox leaned against the hood of his blacked-out Charger, arms crossed, glaring at Racer, who sat behind the wheel with a giant grin.

“Not happening, citizen,” Fox barked. “Get in one of the fucking SUVs before I break your nose on the steering wheel. And if you get so much as a drop of blood anywhere, you’ll be swallowing your teeth next.”

Wrecker was perched on the edge of the workbench, flipping a wrench between his fingers. Whiskey leaned back against the wall, checking the magazines in the guns lined up on the table next to him. We all had our own firearms, but the club had a cache of weapons for when we needed something untraceable or specialized. As our sergeant at arms, he was our chief security officer, so among his many duties, he oversaw the club-owned armory.

Hawk crouched near the front tire of his bike, checking the pressure and talking casually with Maverick and Hunter like we weren’t heading into a war zone.

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