Page 19 of Pretty Savage: Defy

“Silas Creed?” I exclaim.

She nods, eyes wide and solemn.

Not done with my investigation, I slide my hands into her hair. I turn her face left, then right, searching for bruises.

“Carrson—”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did Jackson?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She bats at my hands, but I don’t let go.

She’s lying. I know it. Not because she’s dishonest. She’s the most honest person I’ve ever met. Not because she wants to hurt me either, but for a more dangerous reason.

To protect me.

I know Laurel, there’s no way she went down without a fight. It’s one of the things I love about her.

Love.

The realization I had when I searched for her body in the corn stalks, when I was convinced I’d failed and she’d died.

I love Laurel Turner.

I’ll do anything, everything, to protect her.

I hiss when I find it, a bruise on her temple mostly hidden by her hair. I brush the strands aside, careful not to hurt her. There’s a lump there, the skin swollen and discolored.

My vision turns red. “That fucker Jackson. I’m going to kill him.” I pull away and try to stand, fury pumping hard through my veins, but Laurel’s hands are on me, pulling me back down into bed.

“Stop,” she says. “I’m fine. Going after Jackson won’t do us any good.”

“I’ll teach him not to touch you,” I say, ready to argue, but she’s pressed up to me, her lips on mine. Smart girl. She’s the only one who can shut me up. I kiss her back, thoughts of revenge dissolving as need for her rushes through me, humming in my veins. This girl. She’s everything and all I want right now is to be buried inside her. To have physical proof she’s here. With me.

Laurel must feel the same because she’s tugging up my shirt, then slipping her hand into my pants. She gasps softly when she feels how I’m already hard for her.

“Carrson,” she whispers, her voice high and breathy. The sound makes my cock stiffen even more under her fingers. “I need—”

“Yes,” I answer her question before it’s finished, tugging her pants down to her knees. I’m too greedy and in a rush to take them off all the way. My hand goes between her legs and I groan when I feel how wet she is for me. I let my fingers find her clit and circle it, keeping the pressure firm until her back arches off the bed and her eyes flutter shut. I trace the faint purple veins on her eyelids and watch as her brow tenses when I swirl my fingers faster. Her mouth opens with quick pants, and her cheeks pinken.

She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, and I have no idea why she picked me, of all people, to let touch her like this, see her so vulnerable and undone, but I’m so fucking glad she did. I shift my hand and slip into her heat, pushing two fingers into her easily since she’s so aroused.

Her hands come up and grab onto my forearm like she needs to anchor herself from the waves of pleasure I’m giving her. Her fingernails sink into my skin, and the burn makes me smile. I like it when she marks me. I want evidence of her all over me, reminders that I found her. That I’m the only one who will ever make her feel this way.

I lean closer and whisper in her ear, “You like it, don’t you, kitten. When I finger fuck you like this?”

She whimpers, her pelvis thrusting into my hand in a beat so rhythmic and steady it’s almost music.

“Is it enough though?” I ask, then run my tongue along the edge of her earlobe. I’m rewarded with a full body shudder from her. “Or do you need my cock to fill you up properly? To satisfy that greedy pussy?”

She’s nodding, the movements jerky as her eyes squeeze shut. She’s close to coming. I can feel her walls flutter around my fingers, but I’m too selfish. I don’t want to waste that orgasm. Not when she could come with me inside her so I can feel every delicious pulse.