Page 117 of Savage Ambition

His head fell back. “Yes, please.”

Just as I was about to proceed, a phone vibrated somewhere in the room. I paused, straightening up. “You should answer that.”

“Fuck it, I don’t care right now.”

“But it could be important.” I grinned at his frustration, enjoying the power of denial almost as much as the act itself.

He stalked naked across the room, snatching his phone from his pants with a muttered curse. He answered with a curt greeting.

While his back was turned, I retrieved lube and a condom from my bag, hiding them in the sheets. I sprawled across his bed, admiring the view of his nude form as he argued with whoever had interrupted us. When I caught his eye, I wrapped my hand around my cock to stroke it. Maybe it would speed up his call.

Shaw stumbled over his words, causing me to chuckle at my victory. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He listened with a concerned expression. “No, I’m not upset. I understand why you feel like you need to try. All I’m asking is that you don’t get arrested in the process. He’s not worth the bail. Good luck. I’ll see you when you get home, okay? Thanks.”

He tossed his phone aside on the nightstand with a frustrated sigh.

“From that conversation, I’m assuming your cousin is going to try talking some sense into Jace?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Shaw’s shoulders slumped. “I know we can’t leave things like they are right now, but the odds of their conversation escalating to violence are pretty high, if last night was any indication.”

Before Jace could ruin the moment, I took Shaw’s hand, pulling him back to bed. His fingers intertwined with mine. The simple connection felt more intimate than the countless bodies I’d been inside at the brothel. “Here, let me make it better.”

“I’m so tired of Jace’s shit,” he complained as he allowed me to position him on the mattress. “Why can’t he just be mature and move past his stupid high school grudge?”

“I hardly think he’s worth worrying about right now.” I lowered my mouth to his erection to distract him.

His response dissolved into a moan as I traced my tongue along the underside of his cock, savoring the salt of his skin. I cataloged each twitch and gasp like intelligence I could use later.

“Fuck,” he breathed as I slid the head into my mouth, sucking while my tongue worked the sensitive spot underneath.

My hum of approval vibrated against his cock, making him grip the sheets tighter. His hips bucked when I took him to the root, my nose pressed against the curls at his base. I held him there, swallowing around him until he made a desperate sound that sent heat straight to my dick. I bobbed my head along his length, building up the pace for his pleasure.

While he was lost in sensation, I reached for the lube packet, opening it and coating my fingers. At the first touch against his entrance, his body jerked in surprise, eyes flying wide.

“Easy,” I murmured, returning to his cock before he could protest. I circled his hole with gentle pressure, never pushing in, merely introducing him to sensations he’d never experienced before. Each slow pass of my fingertip revealed his body’s secrets to me through his erratic breathing and gradual relaxing of his muscles as his hips shifted closer to my hand. The show of implicit trust humbled me.

I memorized every flicker of expression as I continued the gentle circles. His lips parted, eyes half-closed, caught between nervousness and arousal. I’d seen countless faces in pleasure, but never one so unguarded. Stripped of performance, his honest reactions spoke volumes.

When his hips began rocking in a silent plea, I pressed my index finger inside, breaching him for the first time. The tight resistance made my breath catch as his body yielded to me. I paused with just my fingertip inside him, giving him time to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion.

“Still okay?” I asked.

His nod was small but certain, his eyes meeting mine with a trust that felt like a physical weight on my chest. I pressed forward to the first knuckle, watching in fascination as his body accepted me. The tight heat around my finger made my cock throb with anticipation. More potent than the physical friction was the reality that he had chosen me. Knowing he had saved his first time for me despite my profession awakened a lethal protectiveness.

“Dante,” he gasped, his thighs trembling on either side of my head.

I pushed deeper, watching his reactions with an intensity I rarely showed clients. When my finger was fully seated inside him, I paused, letting him feel the fullness. His body clutched at my finger, adjusting to the intrusion, learning to accept rather than resist.

When I curled my finger to find that bundle of nerves that would transform discomfort into pleasure, his back arched off the bed with a strangled cry that contained equal parts surprise and pleasure. The sound traveled straight to my core, igniting something that wasn’t just desire but a profound satisfaction at being the one to introduce him to a new realm of sensation.

His sensitivity delighted me. I pulled back from his cock, replacing my mouth with my free hand as I watched his face. “Good?” I asked, already knowing the answer from the way his body clutched at me.

“Yes,” he panted, his voice rough with wonder. “Please don’t stop.”

I worked him open with reverent patience, establishing a rhythm between my stroking hand and probing finger that had him writhing.

To reward him, I added a second finger. Watching his body accept me, seeing his face transform with pleasure, bypassed every instinct I had perfected at the brothel.

“You’re doing so well,” I told him, my voice rough with unnamed emotions. “Look at you taking my fingers so perfectly.”