Page 3 of Savage Desires

I quickly free her from the shackles, catching her in my arms before she falls to the ground. The man yells that I can't intervene, that she's his to do with what he wants and that I'm breaking protocol. His threats fall on deaf ears. It's not until he grabs my arm and tries to take her from me that my control slips.

"If you want to keep your hand, you will remove it."

He laughs. "I'm not afraid of you."

A smile spreads across my face, one that's reserved for people like him. It's a smile that says I will destroy you and enjoy every second. That I will make you bleed and bathe in your blood. I've been told it's unsettling…

His laughter dies, and he steps away. "Good boy. Maybe you do have two brain cells to rub together."

His back stiffens, and his fists clench. He's running through his options right now. I've intervened and taken his woman. I've threatened him, and now I've insulted him. He wants the fight I'm picking, but there is also a hint of fear mixed in with that anger. I relish that fear. I want to nurture it and make it grow until he only knows fear. Unfortunately, this is not the time nor the place. I push past him, and he lets me go.

I carry my burden to the only empty couch in what is supposed to be the aftercare area but appears to be used for fucking instead, if the occupants of the other couches and chairs are any indication. This place really is a sham of a club. They are everything that is wrong with the BDSM community. Places like this give the lifestyle a bad name and make it dangerous.

I sit on the couch, resting the woman's head on the arm. I brush her hair from her face and take in her features. She's beautiful—everything from her pert little nose to her plush lips and eyelashes so long they kiss her cheeks. I wonder what color her eyes are. I want her to open them so I can see them.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

She stirs at the sound of my voice, then whimpers. I immediately realize that holding her like this will cause her even more pain. I quickly lift her small body and turn her so we are chest to chest, and she's straddling my lap. Her head rests over my heart, and she lets out a little sigh.

"Come on, my beauty. It's time to wake up."

She nuzzles against me for a moment before bolting upright. The sudden movement makes her suck in a breath and cry out.

"Shh. It's okay. Take it slow."

She blinks a couple of times before she realizes where she's at and that she's sitting on my lap. She quickly uses her arm to cover her small breasts, obviously uncomfortable with her nudity. Which doesn't make sense since she is obviously stripped bare for a public scene.

"Wh-who are you?"

"My name is Kisten."

"H-how did I get here?"

"In the club or in my lap?" I ask with a hint of teasing.

A haunted look fills her eyes. Beautiful, ocean-blue eyes. The look speaks of nothing but pain and torment. Instantly, I want to rain down a world of hurt on anyone who has ever dared harm her.

"Your lap. I shouldn't be here." She sounds panicked and looks around the club like she's being hunted by someone.

"You're okay." I gently stroke her arm. "I've got you."

She whimpers. "I've got to go. He'll be looking for me."

Another log tossed on the fire of anger burning in my chest. I will avenge this beautiful creature and enjoy every drop of blood the asshole that whipped her bleeds.

"Your boyfriend won't be hurting you anymore."

Her eyes flash with fear. "M-my boyfriend?"

"The whip-yielding prick that whipped you until you passed out."

She swallows thickly. "Not my boyfriend."

Somehow knowing that it was just some random asshole makes the whole thing worse. Is she so innocent to my world that she would allow just anyone to chain her up and whip her? Or is that what she asked for?

"Did he force you into that scene?"

"No. Not him…" she says, looking over her shoulder again.

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