Page 38 of Savage Rule

Her little asshole puckers temptingly, and I stroke the tip of my thumb over it. She jerks slightly as a strangled moan escapes her. The knowledge that it’s just as sensitive as every other part of her makes my balls tighten more.

Unable to control my hunger for her any longer, I bring my tongue to her, licking her from that tight anus to her clit. She cries out, arching her back when I flick the already swollen nub.

Returning to her center, I lap up her juices, drinking them. Drinking her. My little hellcat. My enemy.

I stop to kiss the soft folds, letting my teeth graze over them only momentarily, loving the feel of them against my lips.

My hands slide up her calves, forcing her legs backward, opening her more to me. I move off the chair and drop to my knees, my mouth never leaving her sweetness. Her fingers delve into my hair as I worship her intimately, sucking on her clit, feeling her swell as her arousal grows.

“Don’t stop, Gunn. Please don’t stop.” She begins to rhythmically thrust her hips upward, stopping only to gasp when I drag my tongue to her ass, then back.

Every inch of her is delectable, sweet as honey and intoxicating. It’s a heady mixture that has me in a drug-like haze as I tease and suck and flick until she’s pulling my hair painfully, holding me to her, and screaming out her pleasure.

When she finally releases me, her panting ebbed, I stand. I tug down my zipper and my dick springs free.

Her gaze locks on mine as I place the head of my cock over her clit. I spell out my name on it in pre-cum. Thankfully, I have a short name because my control wanes quickly.

Positioning myself at her entrance, I slam into her. She’s so fucking slick and tight, made just for me.

She cries out as I thrust, her hands reaching for the edge of the table to keep herself from flying off the other end.

“I’m going to come again,” she screams, and the sight of her coming undone, of her naked body while I’m dressed, is so fucking sexy I lose the fight and come too.

I’ve had intense orgasms before but this is mind-blowing. I pump into her, once, twice, each one delivering a huge amount of semen. And I like the idea of filling her with my stuff.

It’s not until I’m fully depleted that I finally drop onto her chest and let out a long breath. “Okay, now it can never happen again.”

“Till tomorrow?”

I nod. “Tomorrow.”

I prop my head up on my hand and begin a slow leisure caress of the most dangerously beautiful body I’ve ever seen, my gaze following everywhere my fingers do, over the soft skin of her ass and lower back. But I pause when she tenses as I move upward to where her scars begin.

It’s been like this the last three nights, because like the masochist that I am, I’ve been unable to stay away from the hellcat and her sweet pussy.

I’m fully aware that it’s risky behavior. She could at any moment sell me out to her boss and just like that, I’d be dead. Worse yet, I get the sense that when my corpse is discovered, the pennies will be put over my balls instead of my eyes. Luca would know I’m a traitor.

As true as it might be, —Iama fucking traitor to my friend, my brother—I can’t stay away from her. God help me, she’s either put a spell on me or I’m that weak.

I’ve tried everything, drinking, weed, even another woman. Nothing was strong enough, and the other woman, much as shelooked like Scarlet, it wasn’t her and I couldn’t fuck her because it felt like cheating. Cheating!

So I’m here again, in my enemy’s bed, tickling her because it helps her sleep.

At least it does until I get near the scars. “You don’t want me to touch you there?”

It takes her a moment to respond. “I’m not sure. No one ever has.”

Her statement makes me frown, but when she doesn’t elaborate, I continue with the slow caress.

“How did you get them?” I tilt my head to get a better view. It wasn’t until yesterday that she even let me see what I’d felt the first time we were together.

She shrugs. “I engage in physical conflicts. You know that.”

My brows pinch harder. Yes, I can attribute some of these to battle injuries, perhaps even a good whipping. For example, the scars nearest her spine are what I’d expect, thick and jagged and different lengths.

However, it’s the ones closer to her sides, just over her ribs, that can’t be so easily explained. These are long and thin and nearly the same size. Two lines are clearly fresher than the others. Pinker.

But the one that stands out above all the others has me wondering exactly how she’s getting these. This one is wide, but made up of many single lines, as if someone took a very thin blade and cut in the same place again and again and again. When I spot a recent slash amongst those many, one that is still scabbed, I touch it.

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