Page 85 of Savage Torment

With my mind made up, I stride the remaining distance with a confidence I’ve never felt before. I’ve only ever felt like this in their grasp, but never like this. It’s invigorating.

Stopping at the edge of the ring, I peer up at him. The grin on his lips is wider than ever, but he crooks a finger again, making it clear exactly where he wants me.

In there. With him.

Gulping, I eye the steps, and another official in a black and white striped shirt that matches the referee’s offers me a hand. My nerves vibrate through my bones as I reach the top and the official sits on the rope, dropping it to give me better access. I nervously slip through the gap, barely putting both feet on the mat before I’m swept off my feet again.

Wylder pins me to his sweaty chest, peppering kisses across my face, throat, and shoulder, and I giggle in his hold. He tries tohike my legs around his waist, but I gasp, acutely aware of how short my dress is.

“My dress,” I plead, and his hands relax against my thighs, settling around my middle as he smirks down at me.

“Mydress,” he corrects with that possessive tone that works so well for him, but I roll my eyes instead of melting into the needy puddle that I am.

“Your dress? Yeah, I think it would suit you,” I state, and he laughs whole-heartedly. He tosses his head back as the raspy tone parts his lips, and I bask in the sound for a moment, forgetting we are still in the center of the room with hundreds and hundreds of people likely watching us.

When his gaze falls back to mine, his smile is soft, victorious.

“So, I won,” he states, lowering me to my feet as he plays with a loose tendril of hair framing my face.

“So you did,” I breathe, holding on to his shoulders.

“What do I get?” he asks, wagging his eyebrows. I shake my head, a light giggle slipping from my mouth.

“This was your idea. No way in Hell am I just going to hand it to you,” I tease, tingles running down my spine under his intense stare.

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip with a slight nod. “I want to fuck you in this ring.”

I gulp.

Damn.

“With an audience?” I clarify, and he scoffs.

“Fuck no. But there’s a training gym,” he explains, pointing over his shoulder toward the locker rooms.

The suggestion is evident in his eyes, and a spark of excitement pools in the pit of my stomach, eager to see what he has planned.

“Then why are we still here?” I ask, and a wisp of breath pulls from my lips as he grabs my waist, hoisting me in the air.

He’s moving to the edge of the ring before I even realize what’s going on. I try to keep the hem of my dress over my ass as he saunters over the rope with little effort, keeping me in place over his shoulder before storming through the crowd.

Everyone calls out his name, but instead of hyping it up like he usually would, he barely responds, offering little acknowledgement as he beelines for the back exit with my body perfectly secured over his shoulder.

All I have is the perfect view of his ass in his loose shorts. I only notice that we’re no longer in the main space when the music and cheers die off, disappearing as a door closes behind us. The air feels cooler along my heated skin as the sound of another door opens and shuts at Wylder’s touch.

I can sense his body shift, a calmness relaxing his shoulders as his strides slow. His palm runs over my ass cheek before he grabs my waist and lowers me to the floor. Only when I get my balance do I find myself inside another ring, the rope separating us, but not for long.

The moment I take a step back, I slip through the rope so we’re toe to toe, completely alone in a ring just for us two, while everyone else continues to celebrate elsewhere.

Despite the coolness in the air, my body temperature still runs hot. Goosebumps tingle over my arms as he stares at me like he’sreallytaking me in.

“What now?” I ask, nervous, but refusing to show it, so I force myself to stand tall instead of hiding behind my folded arms or another form of defense I would usually resort to.

“Now you’re mine,” he rasps, his eyes growing more hooded with every breath he takes.

“And what does that look like?” I cock a brow at him, teasing, and he takes the bait, inching closer to run the tip of his finger over the exposed skin on my chest.

I shiver when he dips his finger down between the valley of my breasts before following the material of my halter top straps.

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