Savage Savior (Savage People 3)

“Fuck, I wanted to wait until you turn eighteen before I touched you at all. I really fucking did, but it’s happening tomorrow night, and I don’t have more willpower in me to resist this. Your showing up at Hot N’ Bothered changed everything, faster than I’d hoped for it to happen. And now…” There’s a flicker in his eyes and he no longer looks remorseful or contemplative, just plain evil. Sexy evil. “Now, it’s too late for you, Dolly. You’re mine. To the bedroom. My bedroom,” he instructs.

I gingerly take steps toward the master bedroom, all too aware that inside, there are sheets and candles and throw pillows picked out by my mother. Even though she’s not allowed in here, she always makes sure every room in her house has her touch. Graham stalks me down the hallway, his body pressed to mine. He seems to sense what I’m thinking about, because he whispers in my ear. “She sleeps in the guest room and you fucking know that. There was never any way I’d touch your mother. Not when all I could think about since you turned sixteen is how I want to touch you.”

Graham’s room is pretty much what I expected. Dark. Immaculate. Impersonal. Just like him. It could pass for a fancy hotel room, save for the bookshelf full of well-loved classics. It’s always been clear that his room is off limits, and to be honest, I never really cared about Graham, until recently, let alone what his room looked like. I went from having misplaced anger toward him, to being indifferent, then having an innocent crush, and finally to now… whatever this is.

My eyes roam around the room, trying to soak up every detail in an attempt to learn something more about this stepdaddy stranger of mine. Three whole years, and I’m just now starting to feel like I’m getting to know him.

I don’t have a chance to further my exploration, because he comes up behind me and starts peeling my dress from my body. Neither of us say a word. I let him undress me in complete silence, with the exception of my pounding heart. He drops his head to the crook of my neck and inhales deeply. After a moment, he unclasps my bra and I let it fall to the floor. Then he rolls the matching nude lace thong over my hips and down my legs, caressing them along the way, and dropping to his knees behind me. I’m only in my ankle boots now, and at first I feel silly, but when he turns me around by my hips and I see the look in his eyes, I feel anything but. His face is practically level with the part of me that has barely been touched, and I’m shaking with anticipation; I’m scared but I want this.

He slides each boot off, then stands up and leads me to the bed.

“Get in.” Apparently, tonight he’s a man of few words. But I comply, because something inside me wants to please him.

I watch him strip down to his boxer briefs, and Jesus fuck, he is the most beautiful, most formidable man I have ever seen. The light smattering of hair on his chest reminds me that he is a man, unlike Shawn and all the other boys I’m surrounded by at school. He’s a much older man and maybe I’m fucked up because that just makes me want him more. My eyes trail all the peaks and valleys of his torso, down to that perfect fucking v-shaped Adonis belt. I swallow hard, and I swear a deep chuckle rumbles from his lips but I can’t be sure… because the ‘V’.

Graham climbs in next to me, pulls me into his warm, hard body, and then… nothing. I’m lying on my side, head on his chest, and he leisurely strokes my hair. What the fuck?

His eyes are closed and his hand keeps stroking when he finally says, “Go to sleep, Dolly.”

A whine slips out because I’m so worked up. I’ve had major blue bean all night since the strip club, and now, after that little performance, he tells me to go to sleep?

“I can’t,” I whisper.

I squeeze my thighs together to try and diminish the ache between them.

His hand drifts from my hair, down my arm, to the dip in my hip.

“What’s wrong?” he rasps.

“I need…something”

His other hand lands on my thigh and dances up toward where I need him the most. God, please, right there.

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need…” I can’t get the words out; all I know is that I need him not to stop.

Finally, his fingers slide through my lips and start rubbing delicious circles on my clit. That first touch sends a jolt through me, and I can already feel myself becoming wetter.

“More…” I buck my hips into his hand wanting more…wanting everything.

“Shh, daddy knows what you need, Baby Dolly.”

My pussy clenches at his words and he feels it because he smirks down at me and says,

“You like that? You like being in your daddy’s bed? I knew you were a dirty little girl.”

“Yes…” It’s so wrong, and I should be disgusted, but fuck if the sinfulness and fuckedupness doesn’t make me want it more.

“Yes, what?” He pauses and looks at me with a stern expression. Oh my god, he wants me to say it. I rock my hips in an attempt to get him to touch me again, but he doesn’t budge.

“Yes…daddy. Please, daddy. I need it.”

I’m begging, but I’m past caring.

“I’ll rub your pussy, baby, but I’m not fucking you tonight.” He continues his assault on my clit and I’m out of my mind. I’ve never been touched like this. His fingers trail down to my entrance and I suck in a loud breath. He looks at me quizzically, before asking,

“Have you ever done this, Dolly?” I don’t want him to stop. But I also don’t want to lie to him.