Savage Love (Savage Island 2)

“That… the cameras weren’t private,” she whispers. “I just assumed that it would be some kind of security thing, like a live feed. I never imagined… Oh, God… everything we’ve done broadcast at large to… to like, the masses.”

She closes her eyes and one lone tear rolls down her cheek. And right then, I know, if this theory is true, I will kill whoever is behind this. Kill them. For putting my girl here in this place. For stripping her of everything important to her. For treating her like a commodity and not a fucking human.

I move closer to her and draw her to me, wrapping her in a hug so fierce she gasps a little. “They will pay,” I whisper to her. “I promise, baby.”

She nods. “I love you, Cy.”

“And I love you.”

Her hand on my chest travels to my neck, then upward, until she’s cupping my jaw and tipping my eyes to her. It’s a dominant move, but I grant it to her. She looks into my eyes and I in hers, for long, silent minutes. I see pain in her gaze. Longing. And something she’s kept hidden from me for so long, it takes me a moment to decipher it.

Determination. Hope.

God, I love her.

I stroke my thumb down her freckled cheek and speak softly. “They’ve taken so much from you. From us,” I whisper. “But you’re tenacious. You don’t let them beat you down. You rise up. Again, and again.”

She nods, biting her lip. “Yeah,” she whispers. “And God, Cy, it’s one of the things I love best about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she whispers, leaning in to brush her lips to mine. One touch and she ignites a fire in me. I want her, and now. I lay her on our bed and pin her beneath me, framing her body with mine. What the hell will happen to us when we get out of here? I’m not right for her. We’re opposites in so many ways, and though they say, opposites attract, do they really work in relationships? When we get back, will who she is—who she was—affect our relationship? Will we still continue the way we do here? She isn’t my type. I’m not hers.

And yet here we are.

So I lay her down and kiss her pretty mouth until she moans and loosens beneath me, her legs parting and welcoming me in. In silence, I spread her legs and glide her dress upward, baring her, kissing and stroking between her legs until she’s soaking wet, before I glide my cock between her legs and thrust so deep and hard, she gasps.

I love making love to Harper. She yields beneath me while I tease her with my cock. Grinning and coaxing me with her hot, wet pussy until I impale her with my cock, making love to her with deliberately slow strokes, until she moans and pants, on the cusp of orgasm. I roll over on my back slowly, still deep inside her. She’s riding me, her mouth slightly parted and eyes half lidded. I yank her dress up and pinch her nipples. Throwing her head back, she moans, gliding up and down on my cock with utter fucking perfection.

“Christ, woman,” I groan, on the verge of coming. “Fucking perfect.”

She grins at me, bracing herself on top of me as she raises and lower herself, working a rhythm that drives me wild.

“Cy,” she whispers, her eyelids fluttering shut as she reaches the edge of orgasm. “Cyyyyy,” she moans.

“Don’t you dare come without permission,” I tell her. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Mmmm,” she moans. “What’ll you do? Hmm?”

“Make you sleep alone,” I quip, which makes her laugh, then moan again. “Barbarian,” she breathes.

“But I fucking love you.”

“Not enough to… to…” she’s panting. “Not enough to make me… oh, God… not enough to… to let me…”

“Come?” I ask teasingly, lifting her by the hips and slamming her down on my cock.

“Is that permission?” she asks in a throaty whisper.

“Yeah, baby,” I say on a chuckle, just as she shatters on top of me. It’s so fucking beautiful I come myself, lashing deep inside her, the two of us chasing our releases together. My own body rocks with ecstasy as her mouth falls open and she moans through spasms of pleasure.

“My God, I love that,” she says, leaning her beautiful body down atop mine, tangling our fingers together.

“Me, too, baby,” I whisper. “Me, too.”

I roll her over gently beside me and she curls up on my chest. She might be fierce and stubborn, but my girl loves to be held.

We lay in the silence, both of us lost in our thoughts for long moments. Finally, we clean up, and she goes about tidying the cabin while I go out and chop some wood. There’s much to be done just in the day-to-day survival here, and though we revel in each other, we have much to do.