Hanged (Savage Men 5)

All these years.

It’s been too long. Too long without a woman. Without her.

When she’s lowered my pants and boxers in one go, my dick springs loose. I was already hard from the moment I laid my eyes on her outside. It’s only gotten thicker since we came upstairs.

She eyes me for a moment, biting her bottom lip. Then she grabs my shaft with both hands and starts massaging me, and fuck me, does it feel good.

I tilt my head back and enjoy her working me, rubbing me off like she wants me to come all over her. Maybe I will. Or maybe I want to savor this moment a little bit longer … because who knows how long it’ll last.

Suddenly, something wet wraps around my length. I look down. It’s her tongue, sucking me off. Jesus fucking Christ. And the way she does it makes me want to come instantly. But I hold off a little longer to enjoy her mouth.

I fight the urge to grasp her face and thrust inside. It’s hard not to, but I have to remind myself she’s not just a mouth but an actual person. Someone I care about. Someone I love so deeply it hurt not to be close to her.

And fuck me, do I want to be close to her right now.

I want to fuck her until dawn and beyond.

* * *

Lillian

He gently nudges me back until I stop sucking him and look up at him. The content look on his face gives me goose bumps. It feels so wrong but totally right at the same time.

He keeps pushing until I’m lying flat down on the bed, then he crawls on top of me. Time seems to be slowing down as he plants his lips on my skin. With my eyes shut, I let myself drift off into heaven, knowing full well the consequences of what we’re doing.

He’s a stalker.

A murderer.

And now an escaped convict too.

Nonetheless, I still want him.

Does that make me a criminal too? Probably. But there’s no way I can say no either. Not to this man … God knows, I’ve tried. But I’m lying to myself if I said it wasn’t my fault for letting my heart stay wide open for him to grasp. It’s as if I personally invited him to come in and play.

And oh boy, can he play all right.

His tongue slides down my neck while his hands are all over my body, groping my breasts, my thighs, and even my pussy. He can’t get enough of me, and the sheer feel of his body pressing down on mine is intoxicating.

My legs instinctively open as he rubs himself against me. His tip brushes along my pussy, enticing me, pulling me in. I buck my hips, and the moment I do, he plunges in.

I gasp, and he covers my mouth with a deep, all-consuming kiss.

He thrusts into me with everything he has, slow but sensual, steady and merciless. Our kisses are frantic as our bodies seem to melt together, sweat drops mixing with passion. Balls deep, he buries himself inside me until everything I knew about myself disappears, and all that’s left is pure need.

As his climax approaches, a grunt escapes his throat, and he pushes in deep. I can feel his cock tighten inside me. Then a warm jet filling me. I moan, satiated, feeling complete while ignoring all the warnings shouted by the little voice in my head.

It’s too late for warnings. Too late for regret.

Because when I turn my head to take a breath, Daisy’s right there … standing in the doorway.

Chapter Seven

Lillian

Shit. She saw us.

“Mommy?”

I scramble to grab the blanket and cover us up. But I’m sure she already saw more than she should have. “Hey, honey,” I stammer, trying not to sound completely out of it. “What are you doing up? You should be sleeping.”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore. It was noisy.” She rubs her eyes, and says, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, honey.” I nudge Hanson to get off me and snatch a night robe off the floor next to my bed, slipping it on as I get out of bed.

She blinks a couple of times, staring at us. “But … isn’t that the man who gave me Mr. Puddlewuddle?”

I rub my lips together, wondering how I’m going to explain this. She saw me turn into an emotional wreck every time he came close to her. She saw me get mad and yell. I can’t even imagine what’s going through her head right now. She must be so confused. But I don’t want to lie either.

“Yes, Daisy. That’s him,” I say, willing the blush on my face to go away.

“But I thought you said you didn’t want me to talk to him? Now he’s here in our house,” she says, yawning.

Guilt eats me up as I grab her tiny hand and pull her out of the room, leaving him behind. “Mommy can explain, but let’s get you some warm milk first.”