Savior (Savages 3)

His teeth sank into my lower lip hard, hard enough to bruise if he didn't release it as quickly as he snagged it. "Paine, please," I groaned, too overwhelmed to not beg.

His head pulled back slightly. A slow, sexy smirk spread that screamed he was up to something. Before I could wonder what, he grabbed me at my waist and threw me backward on the bed. I landed with a slight bounce and before my body had even settled, he was over me, kissing a line from my navel upward.

Everything about him was unexpected. One moment he was soft and gentle, the next he was rough. I had no idea what was coming and the fluttering in my belly told me I liked that.

His fingers traced up the silky material of my stockings, stopping at the garters, snagging the bands, pulling backward, and snapping them against my skin. My body jolted and he smiled as he pressed upward and pushed back so he was standing again. "Legs up," he commanded as he looked down at me for a moment. I put my legs up, crossing my ankles. "Great fucking view," he commented before he leaned down, snagged his pants, grabbed his wallet, pulled out a condom, and made short work of protecting us.

The bed depressed as he climbed in, kneeling right behind my legs, pulling my ankles onto one of his shoulders where he turned to bite the outside of one. A surprised yelp escaped me, followed by a gasp as he grabbed each ankle in separate hands, separating them, and pushing them toward my body. My knees pressed into my chest as I felt him thrust hard and deep.

"Fuck," I cried out, hands slapping down on top of the ones he had on my knees, holding them against my chest. It was part surprise, part pleasure, and just the tiniest twinge of pain. I was right when I said he would fill me like no one had before. I felt a pressure in my lower belly he was so deep, my walls stretching to accommodate him, holding him tight.

"You good?" he asked, voice deep and rough as he stilled inside me. I felt my head shake. "No?" he asked, stiffening a little.

"Not good. Great," I said wiggling my hips a little, moaning at the friction.

"Thank fucking Christ," he said with a smirk as he released my knees.

He kept them in place with his torso as he leaned slightly over me, his arms going under my back and grabbing my shoulders from behind, fingers digging into my clavicles.

And then all there was was wild, hard, fast fucking.

He slammed into me, using my shoulders to drag my body down as he thrust up, making me take him to the hilt, hitting me so deep there was a slight pinch that was the most erotic kind of pain I had ever experienced.

Paine had a dirty mouth when talking about what he wanted to do to me, but as he fucked me, all there was was the sound of my moans getting louder by the second, his ragged breathing, and the sounds of our bodies slamming together. I'd take that over any words he could give me. It was raw, primal, animalistic.

I clamped down tight around him, feeling myself get closer as he fucked me up the bed he was so rough. Until my head slammed up against the headboard and there was nowhere else to go.

"Paine... I..." I groaned, fingers digging into his arms hard enough to cut as his pace didn't so much as falter.

"Come babygirl. Come," he demanded again.

And then I did.

And I swear it shot through every inch of my body, a wave of pleasure so intense I couldn't even cry out for a long minute. Then when I did, it was his name. And like he had promised, it was a scream louder than I had ever made before, louder than I thought was possible.

He thrust until every last wave washed over me. Then he buried deep and jerked slightly upward, coming on a curse, his fingers crushing my clavicles so hard I worried he could have actually broken them for a second before the pressure let up.

"Fuck baby," he growled into my neck, his breathing ragged and warm on my skin.

My legs fought against his body weight and he lifted up just enough for me to slide them out and wrap them around him. My arms went around his shoulders and I held him to me as he rested over my hammering heartbeat.

My fingers drifted slowly down his back, snagging slightly on the occasional scar that I knew must have come from knives with their perfect, straight lines. He'd been stabbed. It shouldn't have come as a shock, but it did. Everything about Paine seemed fierce and capable. It was hard to imagine someone besting him, hurting him. But, then again, even the most skilled of fighters lost sometimes. I found my mind wandering, wondering if they had been bad enough to land him in the hospital, what his mother and sisters must have thought, if he sought retribution.