Page 72 of Savage King

A soft sigh escapes her as I drag my hands over her luscious curves. She's the most goddamn perfect goddess I've ever held. I'll be damned, if I don't make sure that this is the way I'm going to wake up every morning from now on. She might not know it yet, but I'll make sure she stays.

Moving a few strands of her hair to the side allows me to nibble on her earlobe, greedily sucking the little thing into my mouth and breathing into her ear. Another little sigh escapes her, and my hand gets busy moving down her thigh.

She's only wearing one of my t-shirts, no panties, and the sight and feel of her are about to send my cock into the stratosphere with want to be buried inside her tight little pussy. Her legs part for me, and I rub between them, finding her folds already slick for me—goddamn goddess.

She turns her head to the side, her eyes flutter open, and the sight of those bluest of blue orbs steals my breath.

"Good morning," she says in a husky voice, bringing her hand up to her mouth.

My lips curl. "Good morning," I repeat. I take her hand to move it to the side, while the fingers of my other hand are still busy massaging her clit.

"Ugh, morning breath," she says, unwilling to surrender her hand to me.

I laugh and pin the hand over her head while rolling us around. Instead of saying anything, I press my lips to hers, probing her teeth with my tongue until she opens for me.

Her legs part wider, giving me enough room to enter her with three fingers, curling them to hit that secret spot of hers. As she bucks against my dick, a grin escapes me. I love how responsive she is to me. Her ass begins to grind against me, her leg rises higher, and that is all the invitation I need to slip into her tight canal.

"Fuck Scarlet," I growl as I pull out my fingers and sheath myself deep inside her. Her hips move against me.

Before I can warn her that I'm about to come, her pussy tightens around my dick and begins milking it mercilessly. With a roar,stars explode behind my closed lids as my body absorbs every blissful second she gives me.

"Wow," she says, leaning against me breathlessly.

"Wow is right," I agree, kissing her shoulder.

"Can we start every morning like this?"

"You read my mind." I lean over to kiss her again, but the ringing of the phone stops me. Cursing, I turn over to reach my nightstand while Scarlet slips off my dick. I watch her disappear into the bathroom and bark into the phone, "This better be good."

It isn't. It's a nuisance call from Igio, but it gives me an excuse to leave the house to run another errand I've been meaning to do. I finish dressing just as Scarlet comes out of the shower.

"You're leaving?"

"I've got a couple of things I need to take care of, passerotta, but I promise I'll be back in a few hours to take you shopping." I walk over to her side, trying hard to ignore how fucking sexy she looks wearing nothing but a white towel with her hair all wet and down. I bury my hand in it, and she lifts her head to meet my kiss.

"I'll be back soon," I promise.

"I'll be here," she smiles, tempting me to call it a day and take her back to bed. I promise myself I will do just that as soon as Carlos is dead. Hell, I'll spend an entire week with her in bed.

A car is already parked outside, waiting for me. Inside are four of my bodyguards, and Umberto is driving. He knows where Igio is holding a Venezuelan hostage. This shouldn't take too long.

I was right, too. It didn't. The bastard was just as closemouthed as his compadres in Los Angeles. The whole thing was nothing but a waste of time.

But now… now I'm at Scarlet's apartment. The other errand I had to run. Something I should have done right away. Women are creatures of habit. They need certain things, as I've learned from Gigi. I just need to figure out what's important to Scarlet.

I guess they haven't replaced the doorman and front desk clerk, because nobody challenges me when I enter the building. Scarlet's lock doesn't pose an obstacle either, making me frown. There is no way I'm ever allowing her to come back here. This place isn't safe.

The first sight greeting me when I enter her apartment is a massive wall filled with books. Curious, I step closer. These aren't romance books like Gigi reads; these arerealbooks.Reading the Maya GlyphsbyMichael D. Coe,The Curator’s Handbook, The Lost Art of Reading Nature’s SignsbyTristan Gooley. The last one awakens my curiosity enough to pull it out to look at the back. My initial thought that this isabout some kind of preserve nature shit, is quickly changed. It's about understanding symbols and historical context in ancient artifacts. Still not something that gets me perked up, but interesting. I put it back in its place and keep browsing, strangely fascinated by her collection. I pull out another,SPQR: A History of Ancient RomebyMary Beard.I leaf through it, and my eye gets caught here and there by pictures. Strangely, even with my Italian family strings, I've never felt a pull to Italy, but seeing these pictures, I get the fascination. I browse through the first chapter, and before long, I find myself sitting on Scarlet's couch, engrossed by the book.

With a curse, I throw it on the couch, shaking my head at myself. Scarlet's couch is comfortable. A fluffy blanket smells like her, making me smile faintly. Underneath a pillow, I find another book,The Gallic Warsby no other thanJulius Caesarhimself, written in a language I can't decipher, but assume to be Latin. My little passerotta truly is full of surprises. The book looks well-worn, too, unless she bought it second-hand—which I don't believe—she has read it multiple times. There are even handwritten notes in the margins, also in Latin. I don't know Scarlet well enough to definitively identify her handwriting, but it looks like hers.

Alright, I'm not packing these books, and I won’t take the Kindle on the table. I have no idea if it's traceable, but I'm sure a purchase on her account would raise Carlos's suspicion.

The kitchen is separated from the rest of the area by a long counter. A vase with now wilted flowers sits in the center, as well as a bowl with slowly spoiling fruits. The sink is empty and clean; nothing looks out of place. I refrain from opening the fridge, not in the mood for the stink of rotting food. I'd send a cleaning crew in here to take care of it, but I've already made up my mindthat Scarlet is not coming back here. As soon as Carlos is dead, though, I will have her books and things brought to my house.

The pantry is a small surprise. Somehow, I had expected to find a bunch of healthy snacks in there, but there aren’t any. The entire pantry is filled with junk food, ranging from chocolate bars to chips and Ramen noodles.

I should probably feel guilty sneaking around her apartment like this. But I don’t. Scarlet is mine to take care of now, whether she realizes it or not. And if I have to go through her things to figure out what she might need, so be it.

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