Page 7 of Savage Fire

Why? He didn’t fucking know. After her kidnapping and torture by a member of the Chavez Cartel, Tessa’s life had been tossed upside down, and he’d been there to help her get back on her feet—literally. She was stubborn as hell, refusing help when she so desperately needed it most of the time. But he knew she was falling behind on her bills. He knew she lived in a tiny one bedroom apartment in North Las Vegas. He knew she had medical expenses that would break her. He knew that she had basic needs he could and wanted to fulfil for her. If she would just let him. He’d be all the man she needed. He’d pay off her medical bills. He’d set her up in one of his master suites, ornament her in topaz and rubies, and when she was dripping for his cock, he’d crook his finger, and she’d fall into his bed.

Just like the rest of ‘em.

His cock throbbed at the thought of spreading her out on his double king mattress and devouring her.

Fuuuuuck. His mouth watered, imagining what his Tessa would taste like, how juicy and swollen her cunt would be under his lapping tongue.

Grabbing his dick through his jeans, he picked up his cell and hit the number for his lawyer.

“Hey, Papi,” Libby answered, her familiar husky rasp making his cock all the harder. “Do you need me home?”

Yup, Libby was one of his Bees. And his attorney. He liked to keep things in-house. Less mess that way. And with a history like his, the closer he kept his business, the better. It was hard to know who to trust, and he knew he could trust Libby—despite her jealousy glitch. She was an outstanding lawyer, one of the best in Nevada. And she slept in his bed two nights a week—sometimes more if he was feeling the need for her particular brand of kink. Though, he hadn’t shared his bed with her in several months. He hadn’t been with any of his Bees in over two months, choosing to take his pleasure in hand. Why? Because the thought of sticking his dick in anyone but Tessa felt…wrong. But, once she was his and he worked that immediate craze out of his system, things would go back to normal.

“Hey,mamita. I need you to do something for me,” he commanded, an image of Tessa signing on the dotted making his blood rush through his taut body. He wondered what Tessa’s kink would be. Was she a sub beneath the smirks, badassery, and disinterested glares? Did she like a little pain with her pleasure?

He couldn’t fucking wait to see what pleasure looked like on her. Flushed cheeks, warm, pink skin, lips swollen from his cock, her sapphire eyes bright with orgasmic euphoria. She’d be goddamn gorgeous, even more so than she was now.

Pain…fuck.

He already knew what pain looked like on her. He was there when she’d been kidnapped by Alfanzo Madrigal, held hostage by him and his sadistic goons, and nearly died from pain and blood loss after being shot in the kneecap and then beaten until her leg shattered. He’d been there with her in the hospital room when the orthopedic specialist told her he could save her leg, but she’d never be able to fight professionally again. He’d been there to see the fire leave her eyes at her new reality, to hear her screams of agony during physical therapy. He’d been there for her, even when she demanded he leave and never come back. Fuck that. It had been nearly a year since her kidnapping, a year of forcing himself into her life, day after day after day. And fucking finally, after months of pushing and practically fucking begging her to give him a goddamn shot, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He just needed to find the perfect opportunity to bend her to his will, where he’d tie her to him with ropes of pleasure.

Once Tessa finally gave in and said “yes”, he’d howl like a motherfucking alpha who’d just scented his prey. He’d take her out, show her a good time, then he’d bring her home. Yeah, he was an arrogant fuck, thinking she’d see his set up, meet his Bees, and want in on his Hive.

But he knew just how persuasive he could be.

She would be his. She needed him. And he needed to be there for her, and he’d be damned if he could stay away now; he was so close to having her right where he wanted her. He hungered for Tessa, but he wasn’t like other men. He didn’t do relationships—not in the normal sense. He didn’t have it in him to stick to one woman. He liked variety, but he also liked the security of knowing exactly who was in his bed. Because he trusted no one but his Savage brothers. He learned about trust the hard way.

Libby’s voice came over the line, shaking him from his thoughts. “What do you need, Papi?” she purred.

“I need you to draft another contract,” he stated plainly, as a client would to their attorney.

The silence that met his demand was telling. Out of all his women, Libby was the most possessive—second to Stella, actually. At times, like in the bedroom, he liked that. Right now, though….

“Oh? Hive?” she inquired, a sharpness in her tone he didn’t like.

“Yes,” he replied, his own tone a snap of command, one she couldn’t ignore. “Tessa Grimes. I’ll text you her address.”

“All the same rules and requirements?”

Hmmm. Did he want Tessa bound to him the same way all his busy bees were? Living in his house, pleasuring his body alone? The contract was complex, yet simple. Each Bee agreed to reside within his fourteen-thousand-square-foot mansion. They drove the car he provided, ate the food his housekeeper bought. They wore whatever they wanted, kept themselves in shape however they saw fit, and they worked whatever job they wanted—or they didn’t work at all. His women, his responsibility. Most of the women, like Libby, had careers before they met Fang. And one of them dropped their nine-to-fives to spend all her time luxuriating on his dime, pampering herself and him.

Knowing Tessa, he figured she’d probably want to keep her job as an EMT. She thrived under the pressure, and she enjoyed helping people when they were at their most vulnerable. And now that her MMA career was a bust—that shit still made him see red—maybe she’d enjoy spending her nights with him…and his other women. Maybe she’d make friends with his other Bees.

Picturing her blue eyes flashing in rage at his smirking and flirting, he almost reconsidered his plan to seduce her and bring her in as one of his Bees.

Almost.

“Yes. The same. Get it to me by tomorrow.”

Another beat of silence, then, “Why so soon?”

He rolled his eyes, irritated by Libby’s obvious jealousy. Of all the things he allowed his woman, jealousy wasn’t one of them. Libby, out of all his women, knew the details of the contract she, herself, wrote and signed. His Bees had access to him, as he had access to them. While he could fuck whichever of them he wanted at any given time, his Bees were his and his alone, and they weren’t allowed to get pissed about it. They knew the score going in. Once they became a Bee, they set aside petty grievances. He liked peace, and he enjoyed fucking, and he expected both when he got home.

“Questions, Libby,” he snapped, “you asking as my attorney or as my Bee?”

She sighed heavily. “I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow afternoon,” she replied.

Hanging up, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

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