Page 98 of Savage

Ivy’s a resourceful girl; she may not have any money, a phone, or a whole lot of self-preservation, but she’s got a killer rack, legs that go on for days and the sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting. It wouldn’t take her very long to find trouble. Trouble would happily find her in a heartbeat. And what’s more, she’d probably like it.

I can’t risk that shit again. No. This way she might be mad, but she’ll still be fucking me by the end of the day because I don’t plan to just untie her when I get home. I’m going to take that fucking pussy any way I want, and she’s gonna damn well fucking enjoy it. I’ll make sure of it, because I’m done fucking playing games with her. I want her so bad my balls ache, but I want more than that too—I want the fucking bullshit fairy-tale. I don’t just want to possess her body; I want her heart, too. Which means I’m fucking screwed. Any way you paint that shit, I’m screwed.

When I get back, Ivy’s sleeping. I lean in the doorway and watch her for a moment. She has dark circles around her eyes, and her skin is pale and sallow, but she’s still the most fucking perfect thing I’ve ever seen. I step into the room, and she startles. I smile down at her, and she gives me a sleepy little grin and then she remembers where she is and thrashes against the restraints.

“You let me out of here, you fuck,” she says, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I think I should probably keep you tied up a little longer,” I say, grinning like a fucking idiot because looking at her, seeing her tied up in my bedroom, just made every single one of my fantasies come true. “Come to think of it, why have we never done this before?”

“Fuck you.”

I sit on the bed opposite her and reach out, squeezing her knee, sliding my hand up her thigh until she squirms. “Maybe it’s because I know I don’t need it to keep you here.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the rope cutting into my flesh, arsehole.”

“Face it, Ivy,” I say. “You might be in love with my brother, but I don’t gotta do half the shit he does to you to get you off. Why is that, do you think?”

For a second it looks as if I just slapped her upside the head. It’s as if she’s never thought about it, but she can see the truth in my words now, and she’s not happy about it. Without missing a beat, she lurches forward and snaps, “Because I fake it with you.”

I laugh. “Bitch, you can’t fake the leg shake. There’s no faking that. I call bullshit.”

I kneel between her legs, placing my hands on her knees and spreading her thighs. Her nipples form two hard little peaks, and I reach out and slide my warm hands across one of her glorious tits. She tries to pull away, but she can’t on account of being tied to the fucking chair.Exactly where I want her.“You been holdin’ out on me too long, baby. Does it make you feel good? Does it make you feel powerful to know that I want you?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Here’s the thing—right now you’re powerless. I can do whatever I want with you. There’s no one around to hear you scream, and no one is coming to rescue you, especially not Kick. I can have you any way, any how, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”

“So what? You’re gonna rape me?” She laughs. “Been there, done that. Had the fucking abortions to prove it.”

I flinch, because hearing that shit makes my heart hurt.Who the fuck am I kidding? It rips my heart right in fucking two.

“I ain’t gonna rape you, Ivy. I have no interest in taking you against your will. I want you to say yes.”

“What?”

“I want you to give yourself over to me.”

She shakes her head. “What the fuck difference does it make if I give myself over to you? You’re big enough; why wouldn’t you just take what you wanted?”

“Because I want you to want it. Not that fuckin’ kinky shit you’re into. I don’t wanna hurt you. There’s enough arseholes at the club who’ll do that. I want you to feel something other than abuse.”

“I can’t—”

“Just try. You owe me that much.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Tank.”

“Maybe not. We both know you’d be dead right now if I hadn’t taken you to the hospital the last time you OD’d, and we both know you can’t do this without my help. You wanna get clean? You need me. And I need this.”

“So what, you’re blackmailing me? Fuck me the way I want, and I’ll get you to quit taking drugs? I’d rather take the drugs, thanks.”

I stand, bending to untie the ropes, and because I’m an arsehole I make sure my junk is all up in her face as I do it.Why shouldn’t the little bitch see the way she affects me?

Ivy is out of the chair and launching herself at me the second I get her untied. She pounds her fists against my chest and screams her frustration. “I hate you. I fucking hate you. You’re an arsehole, Tank. Fucking worthless piece of shit who gets off on making me feel small.”

I don’t try to defend myself. My arms automatically go around her and I hold her tight, though she struggles. I know what it’s like to feel small, and it was never my intention to do that to her. I just see how badly broken she is, how much she needs the pain, and I can’t help but want to fix it. I want to lift her up instead of beat her down. I want her to want more, to be more. I want her to know that she’s not sick because of all the things he did to her—she’s strong, and that’s a beautiful thing.

It’s also possible I handled that shit badly. I don’t know how to help her. I took away the drugs. I’ve tried playing hardball when it comes to sex—but she has me beat there. I even tried getting her to open up and talk to me, but I’m falling short at every fucking turn, and it scares the shit out of me because one more mistake, one more fuck up and I’ll lose her forever.

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