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His grip on my throat tightens, and it sends pulsing desire shooting through my core. He’s completely in control. “Say my name, Hannah. Moan it.”
“Savage,” I whisper, and it does come out as a moan. A desperate moan.
“That’s it, Princess. Just like that. I want you to do that again, but this time I want you to picture me fucking my hand and coming all over your face.”
“Savage.” The moan is obscene. It’s out of control. I swear to God, I am going to pass out in a second.
He squeezes even tighter, and it’s our only point of contact apart from his lips brushing against my ear, his beard tickling my skin. “And the last thing I want you to know, Hannah, is that I heard you coming for me the other night. And if you think your fantasies are good, they are nothing compared to the real thing.”
I moan his name one last time.
Savage releases my throat, and I nearly collapse. He catches me halfway to the sofa. He eases me onto it, his lips inches from mine.
“Don’t play with me again,” he says. “The next time you do, I’m going to ruin you.”
Twenty
SAVAGE
I’m so fucking aroused, the inside of my sweats are wet. I keep my dick tucked into the waistband of my sweatpants, then grab my wine glass and Hannah’s and move through to the kitchen.
She’s a quivering mess on the sofa, and I haven’t even touched her. It’s nothing compared to how I’ve felt today.
I pour wine into our glasses and bring them back to the living room, setting hers on the coffee table. She stares up at me, her cheeks pink, her lips parted, and I have to restrain myself from picturing her mouth encircling the tip of my dick.
“Wine,” I say, tapping my finger beside the glass on the table.
I return to my seat, then take a sip from my glass. It’s a struggle to appear unaffected by her while my cock is tugging against my pants, and my mind is firmly stuck in the fucking gutter.
“You were going to tell me about what you’ve always wanted to do,” I say.
She lets out a shaky breath, reaches up and pushes a few strands back from her forehead. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not much of a kidder.”
“You don’t say.” She reaches for her wine, almost knocks over the glass, but catches it. She brings it to her lips and drinks, and I watch her throat working, the way her eyes are glazed with desire. Finally, she puts the glass back down and takes a breath. “I’ve always wanted to do something crazy.”
I tilt my head and watch her.
She’s trying so hard to bring her thoughts under control. I like it. I like the effect I have on her, I like that she’s been pining for me, just the same as I’ve been denying myself what I want for fucking years. I like all of it. Even that it’s wrong, and I’m going to regret talking to her like this.
“What crazy thing do you want to do, Hannah?”
She drinks more of her wine then puts down her glass with a clink. “I’ve always wanted to dance in the rain,” she says. “Just because. I’ve never done that before.”
“You have the opportunity to do that right now,” I say.
“Are you serious?”
“Why not? I’m here to protect you in case your stalker appears.” The frustrating lack of cell service has stopped me from confirming that it’s him with Cash. “And you’ve always wanted to do it.”
“But it’s so out there. It’s so crazy.”
“It’s not that crazy. It’s not like you’re asking to go skydiving during a tornado.”
“Are you calling me boring?” she asks. “Just because I’m a librarian, doesn’t make me boring.”
“I’m not saying that, Princess.”
