Caged (Savage Men 1)

My voice fails me. It always does whenever I need it most.

Or maybe it’s because I’m too shocked to force myself to speak.

He’s quickly close enough for me to feel his warmth and see his dark eyes slide over my body. I stay put like a deer cornered by a wolf. He towers over me as he stands in front of me, his still half-wet body dripping water onto the floor … onto me. Droplets rolling down his sexy abs have my mind spinning in circles, my tongue almost dipping out to have a lick.

God, what’s wrong with me?

I suck in a breath when he leans in. I can practically feel his breath on my skin. He grabs a few strands of my hair and takes a deep whiff as if he’s trying to memorize my scent. A low, rumbling noise comes from deep down in his throat, and I don’t know why, but that just made me tingle.

Shit.

I don’t want to feel that way. Not around him. Anyone but him.

His face is still dangerously close to my body, and my breath hitches in my throat when his lips part. My nipples tighten as he blows out a soft breath near my ear.

And then he places a gentle kiss just below it … right on the side of my neck.

I almost melt into a puddle right then and there.

I can’t. I shouldn’t.

But his lips … God, I’ve never felt anything like it. Something this consuming should be forbidden.

He plants another kiss, this time on my jaw, and my head actually leans back. I can’t believe I’m letting him do this, but it’s just too … enticing.

For some reason, the need to push back completely disappeared the moment he put his lips on me. It was the same as last time … only then he tried to …

Suddenly, his mouth is on mine.

And just like that, he completely wipes out my conscience, making me forget where we are and why. All I can do is feel. Feel him kiss me. Feel his hands creep up my dress. Feel him cup my breasts and squeeze lightly.

I can feel his every ounce of self-control.

He wants to ravage me but be tender with me as well. And these polar opposites of him are driving me insane with lust. I’ve never felt this before, this need to be swept off my feet, to be taken by him and to lose control.

I don’t want to lose control. Not in a place like this. Trapped. Caged. Locked in a prison. With a man like him.

But he makes me forget everything I am and ever was, reducing me to my most primal self; a woman filled with unanswered needs.

I can feel his cock against my leg, swelling with greed, and my body responds with equal desire to be close despite my brain telling me to stop him.

I can’t. I just can’t do anything but be overtaken by his desires … and mine.

Suddenly, he grabs me by the waist and lifts me into his arms like I’m some kind of princess and carries me off into the room behind the black doors again.

I stammer as he puts me down on the bed ever so gently. “But I …”

He silences me with his index finger, replacing it with his lips soon after. He pushes me forward with his mouth, overpowering me and forcing me to lean back on the bed. His hands capture my breasts again, finding my nipples and playing with them. I suck in a breath and let out a moan when he pinches them.

The sound winds him up, and a smile creeps onto his lips. His dick bounces again, this time against my thigh, and I feel something thump between my legs.

Still, it feels so wrong despite everything feeling good.

I don’t know him. This place is my prison. And he is part of the reason I’m here.

Yet … I can’t say no.

I can’t. Not anymore.

When I look into his eyes, all I see is his innocence in all this … and his greed. His desire to claim me. His need to fill me with his seed.

A shiver runs up and down my body as I realize what’s about to happen.

He’s my first … or will be if I keep up this meek act.

I can’t falter in my resolve. I don’t want to get pregnant. Not in here.

So I place my hand on his chest and push him away.

The look on his face immediately changes from excitement to sadness as the guilt washes over him again. I know he feels bad. As if he’s letting me down. He doesn’t have to tell me because I can see it in his eyes. They’re like an open book to me. Emotions spilling out like words, showing me that he’s torn between taking care of me and needing me more than the oxygen we breathe.