Page 30 of Savage Salvation

“Real or silicone. A dick is a dick. Except, maybe not, though. Because my dildo vibrates and feels oh so good.”

He nips at my earlobe, his strained voice in my ear. “I bet it’s me that you imagine inside you. That takes you, bends you over, and makes you feel oh so good. Like only I can.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, how could you possibly fulfill someone else?” I snicker, my face against the pillow as his fingers grip my hip, his cock still teasing my entrance driving me fucking insane with need.

“Then why does your ass keep lifting, waiting for me to plunge my dick inside you?” His laugh vibrates on my skin as my ass does just that, shoving back as his cock rubs against my ass. “I’m gonna need to hear it, Kinsley. Say it. Say please.”

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much desire and despisement at the same time. But with Gage, it doesn’t surprise me. “Your wet dream is the only fucking place you’ll hear it.”

A sinister, amused snicker fills the room as his weight shifts off of me, his hand quickly reaching my hip, flipping me over, and I let him. Not my first mistake, and sure won’t be the last.

He moves back over me, hovering, as his mouth covers my lips. His tongue eagerly devours mine as his hand drops to my hip, fingertips digging into my skin. His mouth leaves mine slightly as he speaks, “I’ll settle for your lips moaning my name when you come on my dick.”

“I’ll try to remember what it is, if I actually manage to come.”

His grip tightens as he thrusts forward, his dick filling me. I crave his solid body against mine as he pulls out and rams into me again, my hips rising to meet him.

“That mouth is gonna bite off more than it can chew one day, Kinsley.” His point is emphasized with a hard thrust.

“It handled your dick just fine.”

His head drops, his forehead on my shoulder as he pounds against me. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Kinsley Grace.”

Out of all the times to use my middle name, it’s in this moment. And it’s probably a good thing since I’m too distracted with him pounding into me. His hands gripping my shoulders, my back, moving to grasp anything to hold me beneath his solid body while clinging to his biceps, his shoulders, clawing at his back, anywhere I can get a grip. Because the physical pleasure his powerful, strong physique offers is the only thing up for grabs. A quick nut and some verbal sparring, then we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled activity. I hope. Because I can’t think beyond how his touch makes me feel. His tongue, his hands, his dick. But eventually, his words will strike again.

My eyes snap closed as I cling to him while his hand reaches between us. “I’m not stopping until you’re coming on me.”

“Gage.” I breathe his name because his dick and his hand are working me into a frenzy where I can’t think. “I—” I don’t fucking know; all I can feel is him. There’s no thinking. No forming words or sentences.

“Let go, Kinsley.”

Like I have a damn choice. At his urging, I ride out the wave of pleasure, breathing his name. He rocks into me a few more times, each with a hard, hungry need before he tenses, drops his mouth to my shoulder, and sighs my name. Anything else. I wish he’d said anything else. Even telling me to fuck off would’ve been better because hearing him moan my name while reaching the height of his peak makes me want to do it again. And reminds me that once we’re at the peak, there’s nowhere to go but down.

* * *

My eyes quickly open, searching around the trashed hotel room. Gage’s room. Oh shit. Every moment from last night (or more like both rounds this morning) play through my mind. The main star of my recall is beside me, facedown with his arms stretched up, cradled around a soft pillow, his eyes closed. In sleep, he almost looks peaceful, serene; but the debris around the room says otherwise.

The sheet is draped over his backside in a way that reveals the top of his ass. Desire stirs in my core, but I push it down. Last night was a weak moment. I couldn’t walk away from him, leave him. And it wasn’t because of the pain he was going through. It was because I agreed with him and wanted to feel something other than misery for once. And damn, did he deliver. More than once. My thighs squeeze together to relieve the impulse rising.

Fuck. I didn’t just sample the crazy juice that everyone has been passing around lately. No. I swallowed it from his damn dick.

He stirs a bit, his arm reaching over to drape across my body as his face rests on my bare stomach, never waking from his peaceful slumber. My fingers automatically reach for the faded scar on his shoulder, wondering how he got it.

Shit.

I have to go. Now.

What time is it? Oh no. We’re supposed to head out early. The guys wouldn’t leave me here. Would they? It’s not like they’d think to search for me in Gage’s room of all places.

Slowly, and as carefully as possible, I slide across the smooth sheets, out from under him and make my way to the edge of the mattress before slipping out of bed. Thankfully, the snoozing titan doesn’t come alive.

I snatch my clothes off the floor, quickly pull them on and silently make my way to the door, which is not an easy feat with the remnants of Gage’s outburst scattered everywhere. There’s a bit of relief when I make it to the door, pull it open, and step out into the corridor. When I round the corner, my earlier question is answered. Well, at least one question. The guys haven’t left yet because Isaac is sitting on the floor, his back against my room door. I stop a few feet away from him, his eyes look up to me.

“Not the least bit surprised. But I did think you’d hold out a little bit longer … or at least not run to him.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Isaac rises from the floor and moves in front of me. “So, I have it wrong? You’re not doing the walk of shame from Hawthorne’s room?”