Page 41 of Savagely Scarred

“Will,” her voice cracks, “Please.”

I nip her earlobe. “What do you need?”

“Please,” she exhales quietly.

My hand leaves her breast and slides down into her skirt. I hover my fingers over her clit and wait.

“Please make me come. I want to come,” her staccato words aching with need.

I groan in her ear, “Your begging is a symphony unraveling beneath my touch.”

My fingers circle her clit until her legs start to tremble. She can barely hold herself up anymore. Her breathing becomes staggered. I kiss her clammy skin from the birds on her neck to her upper back.

“Give me an encore, Olivia,” I murmur against her.

Her moan crescendos and she shatters on my cock. Her pussy pulses and I groan into her back as I come with her. I let her hair go and wrap my arm around her waist to support her, the

strength leaving her body. We mold into each other and rock through the remaining waves of pleasure.

“You’re my favorite song,” I breathe against her neck.

One I want to hear every day for the rest of my life.

Smiling, she turns her head and kisses me. I pull out of her and tuck myself back in my pants while she smooths her skirt down. I unlock the car and Liv hops into the passenger seat.

As I reach for the door handle, I hear a twig snap in the woods. My attention moves towards the sound. I tug my shirt away from my chest, feeling claustrophobic. I peer into the darkness searching for movement. Trying to catch a glimpse of a shadow that doesn’t belong to nature.

“What’s wrong?” Liv asks when I get in the car and shut the door.

I lean over, grip her chin and kiss her. “Absolutely nothing.”

Forcing a smile, I buckle my seatbelt and start driving home.

Because it isn’t nothing.

Someone was there.

Someone was watching us.

Chapter Eleven

Kyle

Aquiet rage rushes through my veins as I stomp down the street to my apartment. My right eye twitches in sync with the pulse pounding behind it. My fists are clenched harder than my jaw, so I don’t punch an undeserving bystander. Although, as murderous as I feel right now, I could hit a toddler and not feel an ounce of remorse.

I followed them to some backroad bar in the middle of nowhere, where I fully intended to make a move tonight. The pure elation I would have felt taking her from right under their noses would have been worth the risk. I slipped inside unnoticed and melted into a wall near the bathroom, waiting patiently for her to break off alone.

But then I heard her sing.

I forgot how captivating her singing voice was. I haven’t heard it since before her mother died—when she was happy. It held me in my place. Temporarily frozen in time and I became mesmerized.

And what a fitting song choice.

I snuck out the back door and cut a path through the woods after her giant man toy hauled her ass out of there. I honestly would have reacted the same way if I had been in his position. No one would be allowed to hear her ever again.

Except me.

I thought for sure they were going to get into an argument when he slammed her down onto the hood of his black car. Subconsciously, I was hoping for a fight that led to a breakup, so I could swoop in and pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. But that was never going to happen. What I really wanted to do was kill him, toss her in the car, and take off.