Page 95 of Savagely Yours
He smiled with a slight shake of his head. “Enjoying yourself?”
“With you? Always.”
He used one hand to angle my hips, and if my eyes rolled back one more time, I was sure I’d spend the rest of my life looking at my optic nerve.
“Oh, is that your spot, baby?” He leaned down and nipped my bottom lip. “So sorry. Didn’t mean to hit it.”
And he kept hitting it.
Repeatedly.
My pussy creamed around his shaft. I’d never had a man make love to me this intently, placing my desire and enjoyment front and center. Making my pleasure essential.
“Dez...” I squeezed my nipples, pressure building between my legs.“Oh my god.”
The pressure burst.
I spasmed.
He thrust harder and faster, groaning my name until his body went stiff and I felt him release inside me. I locked my legs around his waist, my orgasmic high cascading in ripples.
“Stay like this for a minute,” I said, gasping, and I didn’t care that I sounded like I was pleading. “Please stay like this for a minute.”
He kissed the side of my face. “With pleasure.”
A few hours later—atleast—I woke up with the second blanket from the hamper strewn over my nude body. I didn’t ache from my nap on the hard floor as much as I expected, my muscles warming as I stretched my arms above my head.
After a quick scan of the alcove, I spotted Dez standing in the opening, wearing only his uniform pants and staring down the corridor. I started to call out to him, but he placed one finger on his lips and tipped his head toward the dark passageway.
I joined him, securing the blanket around my nakedness, and peered around the corner just in time to see Leigh pass by.
Then LaSalle.
A tall man with low-cut hair brought up the rear. However, instead of following the pair, he stopped and turned. I’d heard him referred to as Ronan, but I didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he was also a Class One Elite Protector.
Ronan started toward us.
Dez stepped in front of me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DEZ
Larke stayed put behind me, one hand in the middle of my back. At this point, asking her to get dressed wasn’t viable, as Ronan would be able to see every line and curve of the body that belonged to me and me only.
“Hi,” Larke greeted. “I’m Larke, and I believe your name is…Ronan? Nice to meet you.”
I looked over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Introducing myself,” she said.
“Why?”
“Southern hospitality.”
“You were raised in Wisconsin. You lived in DC.”
“And one side of my family is from Louisiana.”
