Page 48 of Ruthless Savage

I should rip off this mask and flip that dress right over and punish her for it. Would serve her right.

But that wouldn’t be good. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from doing more when those beautiful eyes stared back at me.

I snap a hand around her throat and squeeze just a little until she gasps and pants like a deer in headlights. Her nails sink deeper into the muscle of my thigh, my breaths scattering wildly across her neck.

The fingers of my other hand ride down her stomach, lower, until they feather between her thighs.

She jolts, her cries morphing into gasps.

I growl and squeeze harder, roughly lifting up her dress until…

“Feck,” I grunt under my breath once I feel her bare core.

She’s not wearing panties. Jesus Christ! What is she thinking?

I’m not doing much thinkin’ either, but right now I need this, and so does she. I slide my fingers through her wet cunt and she fights not to scream, gasping for air when I roll a thumb over her clit. Her ass arches into my cock, making me want to bend her over right here and take what belongs to me.

“Yes! Oh my God!” she cries as I continue to rub her.

That’s all I’ll have. I can’t finger-feck her. Not like this, not her first time.

“I—I shouldn’t,” she groans, but I increase my pace until she whimpers, her head falling backward against my chest.

I bite down hard to stifle my own thirst, to stop myself from saying anything, or she’ll discover it’s me.

My thumb swirls faster, then slows a fraction before I rub her again, teasing her entrance with a tip.

She shudders and writhes against me, her release so close I can taste it—and holy hell, I wish I could right now.

I take her clit between my fingers and stroke until she trembles.

“Yes, yes. Oh, God, what’s happening?”

I chuckle deep in my chest. Making you come, love.

Quivering and shaking against me, she screams as her pussy contracts with her orgasm. “Yes! Oh, God!”

Fisting her hair, I yank her head back, my teeth gritted as our eyes connect.

The way I want you right now would get me killed. Yet here I am.

Konstantin wasn’t wrong. The mask…it adds a sense of courage I wouldn’t have without it.

When she’s finally finished, I tighten my grip on her soft strands and slowly draw her dress down. Pulling my fingers into my mouth, I moan as I taste her for the first time, her eyes hooded as she watches. Her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath.

“Why do you feel so familiar?” she whispers.

Mason doesn’t deserve her. No one ever will. Not even me.

“There you are!” Karen suddenly appears, and I immediately drop my hands off her.

Eriu instantly tenses and straightens herself, clearing her throat, but her friend eyes us both.

“I’ve been looking all over for you…” Karen’s attention jumps between us.

“Sorry, I’ve been here. Once I lost you, I just started to wander around.”

“And who is that?” Karen loops her arm through Eriu’s and stares at me.

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