Savage Burn (Savage Trilogy 2)
“Just sex. We fight this war together. And we’re friends with benefits.”
My anger goes from zero to a hundred in two seconds flat. “You want to push my buttons, baby. Done. Buttons pushed. We are not friends with benefits. And we are not, nor have we ever been, just sex.”
“Take it or leave it, Rick Savage, because now that I woke up to reality, that’s all I’m offering.”
“What I’ll take is you, all of you and nothing less.” I fold her close, my lips at her ear. “On my tongue. Riding my cock. Moaning my damn name. Drinking fucking coffee with me every morning when you wake up next to me.”
“Until I’m ruined, right?” she whispers.
She’s pushing me and it’s working. My mood is a hot fire stoked to burn hotter. I pull back, cupping her face, staring down at her. “I’m all in. It’ll be fun, don’t you think? Me ruining you. You ruining me. Loads of fucking fun. Let’s get started. Unless you’re suddenly afraid of me?”
CHAPTER SIX
Candace
“I’m not afraid of you,” I say, my temper burning hot, my body hotter. How can it not? He’s so damn perfectly naked and pressed against me, his big body encasing my body. I feel small and feminine with Rick, but I don’t feel weak. “I’m pissed at you,” I breathe out with that declaration because it’s true. I am pissed at him. He let us live apart. He let me hurt. I think he let himself hurt, too.
“Good,” he says. “Fuck me angry. We always did have epic make-up sex.”
“Because even angry, you used to ask me what I wanted. Then you decided you could just read my mind. You decided what I could, or could not, handle for me. Stop making decisions for me, Rick.” The air between us crackles and burns, driving me back to my reason for pushing him toward this spanking.
“All right then,” he says, “I’ll ask what you want in the future, starting now.” He turns me to face the bed and leans in close, his lips pressing to my ear. “Do you want my hand on your backside?” He doesn’t give me time to answer. He softens his voice, the light touch, and his warm breath sending shivers down my neck as he adds, “Of course, if you’re afraid—”
That’s it. I go down on my knees on the mattress, daring to present him with my naked ass. Because the only thing I fear from Rick Savage is the moment he leaves again and takes my shredded heart with him. He doesn’t immediately move, but I can feel his hot stare on my body. I can feel his hunger. I can feel his emotions. Goosebumps lift on my skin. My nipples pucker. My sex clenches. Seconds tick by, seconds meant to make me wait, seconds of anticipation. That’s the way this works. Anticipation is everything. And I learned a long time ago, thanks to this man, that anticipation requires trust. And I realize now, in this moment, that he always needed my trust.
Emotion rushes over me, unnamed and bittersweet, a collage of random intimate memories, of his hands and mouth all over me, tingling through my body. In contrast to the heat burning in my belly, cool air rushes over my skin, goosebumps lifting again, my sex clenching, nipples aching. His hand, his strong, gifted hand settles on my lower back, fingers splaying possessively, and then stilling. A hand that I know can both heal and kill, please and punish. A hand meant as a silent command: Don’t move. He waits for my understanding that I never speak, but I don’t have to, not with Rick. It’s comforting to know this, to feel this. Years might have passed but I know him and he knows me in a way that requires no words to communicate.
A few more seconds tick by, quite literally, with the sound of a second hand ticking on a nearby clock. It’s not just any clock, either. It’s a grand wall clock that we bought together. We chose it to signify one year together and many more to follow. I wonder if he hears it, too. I wonder if he remembers what it meant to me and us. I suspect he does. I suspect his long pause is all about that clock because one thing I know about Rick is that he does nothing without purpose.
Including leaving.
I arch my back with that painful thought and Rick seems to respond. His hands are suddenly on my hips, then gently caressing over my hips and backside. A rush of arousal overcomes me. I’m tingling everywhere, and sensory overload takes over. My mind is appreciative mush while every physical part of me burns for this man. He slips a finger inside me, then another. I gasp and he leans over me, one hand covering my breast while his mouth presses to my spine. Sensations overwhelm me. He overwhelms me in a good way. When I think I can take no more without coming, his fingers slide from inside me, his teeth scraping my shoulder, a rough nip, followed by the salve of his tongue.