Page 119 of Marrying the Savage

“That was not a compliment.”

“It should have been.”

I slide one finger through her wet folds, then press inside her only a little before withdrawing again. Teasing. Testing.

Tormenting us both.

Her hips lift in frustration. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being deliberate.”

I look down at her. She glares up at me, flushed, panting, her hair a mess on my pillows, her nipples pressing against the thin silk of Elena’s dress.

My control frays.

I lower my mouth to her breast over the fabric and suck her nipple through the silk. She cries out. Her back arches. She mewls like a cat in heat, and the sound goes straight to my cock.

I take the dress in both hands and pull it down until one breast spills free, full and soft, nipple tight from my mouth and the cool air.

For one moment, I only look.

Sofia’s hands move as if she might cover herself, but I catch her wrists and pin them gently above her head with one hand. “No hiding.”

Her breath comes fast. “You keep saying that.”

“You keep trying.”

Her eyes flash, but before she can answer, I take her nipple into my mouth, and the words become a moan. I suck her hard, tongue circling the peak, teeth grazing just enough to make her whole body jerk beneath me. Her cunt clenches around nothing. I feel it against my fingers as I slide them through her again, coating them in her wetness before finding her clit.

She’s writhing now, hot and restless beneath me. The sound of it fills the room, mixed with the sea beyond the windows and my own breathing turning less controlled by the second.

I want my mouth everywhere. Her breasts. Her thighs. Her cunt. The soft place behind her knee. The mark on her neck. The inside of her wrist where the black thread holds my ring to her hand.

I drag my mouth from one nipple to the other, pulling the dress lower until both tits are bare, the silk trapped around her waist. She squirms, half-embarrassed, half-desperate, and I reward both by sliding one finger inside her.

Her body locks.

“Easy,” I murmur against her breast.

“I hate that word.”

“I know.”

I move my finger slowly, letting her take the fullness, watching her face as her body adjusts. Her eyes squeeze shut. Her teeth catch her lower lip.

I stop.

Her eyes open immediately. “What?”

“Don’t bite your lip.”

“Are you seriously giving me instructions during this?”

“Yes.”

“You are⁠—”