Page 18 of Filthy Savage
Axe
I forceback a satisfied grin as I stand in Angel’s monochromatic bedroom. The decor is a black and white theme. A modern sleigh bed is in the center of the room, a couple of chests of drawers are in one corner near her double closet, and two cream armchairs sit neat the large window on one wall. Everything’s neat and orderly.
Angel wasn’t ready to pay a visit to my clubhouse, but she didn’t mind inviting me to her apartment this time around. Thank fuck, because I was starting to feel like I was back in high school again. Still, I’m a little surprised to be here, and to find that she has not one, but three pets running underfoot. The woman doesn’t strike me as a dog person, or a pet person, for that matter. But as she chases three canines out of her bedroom and into a spare room down the hall, the pet lover in her starts to show.
Scanning around the room, I take in the childhood photos and family portraits hanging on the walls and on frames on her night tables. From the looks of it, she had a happy childhood and grew up in a well-adjusted family.
At least one of us got to hold on to our families.
I notice a few photos of her with a girl, and make a guess that it’s Dean Roman’s cousin. The resemblance is obvious. They look more and more like siblings the longer I look. And I’ve seen her somewhere before. Maybe Angel’s friend has ties to the outlaw life too. I wonder if Angel does too. So far, she hasn’t given me any hints to suggest any knowledge of that world. Angel seems like one of the most straight-laced women I’ve met in years.
I hear her at the bedroom door a minute later, flicking off the light switch on her way back to me. I feel her touch before I see her. Her hands reach around my waist from her spot behind me, her big tits soft and inviting against my back. Perking up, I turn to find her wearing something different. It exposes a lot more of her voluptuous cleavage.
I’m fucking hard and impressed at her choice of outfit.
She’s in some kind of leather halter dress.
Her fingers twist a lock of her blonde hair, and I can’t stop myself from swallowing down a groan as I watch her every move. The way her eyes blink up at me. Once. Twice. The curl of her soft fingers as her hand slides up the other arm and stops at her neck, massaging one spot. Like a silent warning, something in her eyes tells me there’s more to come, and I wait, curious to find out what else I’ll learn about her tonight.
“Down,” she commands in that tone she used outside the Hell Valley Saloon.
“What?”
“You don’t get to talk now. I’ll take what I want, and then you can go home happy, got it?”
My cock springs to life again. That look in her eye. She’s a dominant? Before I can ask, Angel puts her hands up into my hair and holds on to a fistful, tugging at my scalp as she uses her controlling grip to guide me down to my knees.
“There. Down,” Angel repeats.
Pain lances through my scalp as the realization hits. This curvy little thing has dropped me to my knees. The sound of my weight hitting the floor echoes around the room, bouncing off the chocolate brown, almost black hardwood floors.
Really? Domination? From this little vixen? I should’ve known, from that smart mouth and confident attitude. Female domination is all kinds of new to me. I have to admit, so far I kind of like it. There’s no hiding the reaction that flickers across my skin while I blindly search for her face in the shadows.
“Am I calling you Mistress Angel now?” I ask.
“I said no talking. My place, my rules.”
Entertained, I nod my agreement.
I don’t know what she actually wants from me, although I’m sure she’ll clue me in soon. A tingle of need spreads down my spine. My knee caps still ache like a son of a bitch. Yet I don’t move an inch. I’m curious to see what this particular version of Angel has in store for me.
Her fingernails delicately play along my scalp. Soon, I start to question whether seducing her was my plan at all. Maybe, in my own twisted way, I completely missed that she was in charge from the get go, and had me on lockdown the whole time. That’s a first. I swallow past the lump in my throat and close my eyes, taking a deep breath of her floral scent, patiently waiting for the next words to come off her seductively bright red lips.
“Take your pants off.”
Her order is firm, but said in a whisper. Her voice hangs in the air as I do what I’m told, and decide to get to my feet and take the rest of my clothes off while I’m at it. My hands fumble against my jeans, but a second later, as I return to my kneeling position, my dick springs out from my pants into the cool air. Angel is utterly silent. Our choppy breaths seem to echo in her room. Once I’m naked, I idly wrap my palm around my shaft, stroking up and down my length for some relief as I wait.
“What are you doing?” Angel demands in a question, the sharp cut of her voice ricocheting around the space like a whip cracking. Her hands dig into my hair again. “Did I say you could do a damn thing?”
“No,” I say, but it’s hard to fight the overwhelming urge to pick her up, throw her into her bed and fuck her brains out. I’ll keep trying, for now anyway. I’ll give her what she wants tonight, especially if it means getting exactly what I need.
God, we’re a fucking pair.
“Then don’t.” Angel pats my head. Twice. My cock twitches from her touch. I’m eager for more of her body against mine, eager for this game to be over and done with so I can take the reins again.
“Touch me,” she orders, releasing her grip on my hair.
Ready to do just that, I brush my fingers against the soft skin of her bare thigh. All the air in my lungs leaves in a whoosh of sound. This is fucking intense, and she knows it. I hear her moan with need as she leans into my touch. I skim the backs of my knuckles up along her inner thigh, and higher, closer, peeling the constrictive leather material upward as I make my way to my prize.
