Savage Beast (Savage People 2)

“Don’t fucking move.”

I didn’t fucking move.

He used his hands to grip me and spread me apart while he tongued my ass. I never knew something so dirty could feel so perfect. I was on the verge of coming, and when he brought one hand around to play with my clit, I did just that. I bucked and screamed and came apart while he held me in place, not slowing down for even a second. He pulled his face away and used one arm to pin me down, while he used his other hand to rub my slick pussy furiously. I was so sensitive from my orgasm that I kept jerking away, but he held me in place, forcing another one out of me.

“Oh my—fuck! Cole! I’m coming again!” I could hear how wet I was.

Cole growled and pulled me backwards onto his cock and sat us back down on his chair, reverse cowgirl style. He hooked each arm under my knees and started fucking me with fast, brutal, punishing thrusts. He fucked me like an animal, wild and uncivilized. His heavy breathing turned into guttural grunts and groans. His orgasm was going to be as violent and angry as he was.

“Fuck, Jade. I wanted to ruin you for all other men, but you’re the one who is ruining me.”

My pussy clenched around him and I came apart for a third time, throwing my head back against his shoulder. My shirt was still on, but he snaked one hand up to squeeze my breast as he continued to pound into me.

“Yeah, baby. Come all over me. Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me like a vise.”

He pumped a few more times and then pushed me back over the desk, onto my stomach. He pulled out of me with a growl before coming all over my ass and pussy.

“So good, Butterfly. So, so good.”

Cole slid back inside me, rocking his hips lazily. He wrapped a fist around my hair, gently tugging my head around to face him. My green eyes locked onto his amber ones while he continued to slide in and out of me.

“You’re fucking mine. No more running.”

I was walking back home when I heard the gunshot. I didn’t turn around because I didn’t feel any pain, but when I heard the second one, I had no choice. Before I turned around to see if it was any of our enemies from the Bratva, the Russian mafia ruling some of the bad parts of New York, I shoved my hand into my pants, taking off the safety on my Glock. If I needed to fire, I didn’t have time to fuck around.

Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder and sighed in relief when I realized it was just a bank robbery. Normal people would have said, “What? But it’s a bank robbery!” but I said it was none of my fucking business.

I actually watched the punks in their black ski masks as they slid into a van real quick and galloped into a nearby side street, leaving skid marks all over the road, their tires crunching the gravel of the road. Then I felt the stench of burnt rubber and smoke.

People were screaming and yelling and crying on the street. Bankers and tellers shook, holding each other and sobbing outside the place as the police started pouring into the narrow side street. And all I could think about was, Really? People still rob banks these days? Huh.

I continued my journey to the apartment Carter and I shared in Bushwick, Brooklyn, passing by Quinn Bradley’s apartment. She lived in one of those two-story red-bricked brownstones with a small staircase and two windows facing the street. Her curtains were always open because she was weird as fuck, and I suspected it was also because she liked people-watching, which was probably what she was doing.

I was just about to round the corner and walk into my street when I noticed Carter standing across the street from Quinn’s apartment. At first, I wanted to yell out to ask him if he wanted to walk back together or maybe grab a drink, but then I realized… Holy shit, what the fuck was my roommate actually doing?

Carter was staring straight ahead into Quinn’s window. I followed his gaze with my eyes to see what he was seeing, glad as fuck that a huge van was blocking his view of me, and noticed that Quinn wasn’t even there.

I waited a few minutes to see what he’d do next. I mean, the woman clearly wasn’t at home, the lights were out, and he was still staring at her window with the little orange pillow right beside it—Quinn had a fucking cat? Yeah, she looked like a cat person—but damn, the guy wouldn’t budge.

It boggled me that Carter was fixated with Quinn. I’d known the guy ever since I’d met Graham, and to some extent, we were tight. I say to some extent because really, Carter wasn’t tight with anyone. He was mostly a volatile fucking freak who wanted everything in the apartment to be so neat and clean to a point of extreme OCD.

He fucked women, but was very weird about them. He’d have them wash themselves before they entered his bed—used to watch them as they scrubbed every inch of their skin, lean on our bathroom sink and watch them quietly as they cleansed whatever filth he thought they had on their bodies off. Then, he’d ask them to get onto the right side of his bed—always the right side—face the window and tie their hair up silently.

And he only fucked blondes.

I knew all this because we were living in a shoebox of an apartment and it was hard not to pick up on his weird shit. But at the same time, I’d never seen the same girl in his bed twice. So I figured he was a jerk like me.

Quinn wasn’t blonde. She had curly ginger hair.

Quinn was also the exact polar opposite of Carter.

He was quiet and reserved, and she was hell on heels. He was polite but volatile when he finally snapped, and she always snapped. I swear, the reason she was never on my fuck-radar was because the woman wouldn’t shut up.

About ten minutes after I spotted Carter, I’d decided not to be a complete douche and turned around and walked to our apartment. I’d also decided not to mention it to him unless I had a good reason to. But fuck, I hoped to hell Carter wasn’t a stalker. Dude was nice, but he was weird enough without adding ‘prowler’ onto the list of shit that made you want to slap a restraining order against him.

At home, I got into the shower—I’d just gotten back from my jiu-jitsu practice—and got ready for Hot N’ Bothered that night. I was stupidly excited to fuck Jade again, but knew better than to get there before I blew off some steam this time. I grabbed the soap bar——my soap bar, because you guessed it right, Carter was fucking crazy when it came to hygiene as well and wouldn’t touch anything I used in the bathroom with a ten foot pole—lathered my cock real nice and started pumping it while closing my eyes, imagining Jade’s tight pussy. God, I wanted that pussy again.

I knew I fucked her without a condom and broke Graham’s rule without even blinking, but it was pretty obvious we were both clean. I always took STD tests because of the fighting, and she…she was Dahlia’s friend. Enough said.