Page 23 of Savage Rule

She glances down at thepartshe’s on. Her red lips pull upward in that siren smile she wears so well. One brow arched, she looks back at my face. “Are you always soreadyto greet friends?”

“Depends on the friend. Or frenemy, in your case.”

Scarlet rests her blade against the skin on my abs and I jerk from the cold of it. She laughs as she runs a finger over my stomach. “It gave you goosebumps.”

“Yougive me goosebumps,” I retort. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“I crawled in through your balcony and hid in your closet. Then I watched until you fell asleep.”

“Fucking creep,” I say. “Did you watch me showering too?”

“Would you have wanted me to?” Her green gaze flicks to mine and my pants get even tighter.

I’m about to tell her that fuck yes, I would have wanted her to, but only if she was going to join me, when it all comes back to me. The last memory I have is of me taking a shower before bed. Did I make it? Yes. I recall slipping under the blankets. Then what? Something smelled funny. But before I could question it, I was waking up to this woman on me.

“You knocked me out,” I accuse.

“You were already out, I just made sure you stayed that way. It’s pretty late and I didn’t want to disturb your neighbors. We do tend to get pretty loud when we’re, you know”—she winks—“having a good time battling it out.”

“How considerate of you.”

She shrugs. “I thought so.”

“So what? You drug me so there aren’t any noise complaints, my shirt has been torn open and there’s a stack of coins I’m willing to bet were all minted in 2009. Were you planning on gutting me?”

“I’d think you’d be grateful to go out in your sleep, all peaceful and sweet.” Her hand twitches around the hilt of her blade and suddenly I’m not so sure she’s not still planning on executing me.

“How long does it take you to do that? A few seconds?”

“You want me to discuss your eminent death?” she questions.

“No. Just curious as to why I’m still alive.”

She rocks on me and I groan from the feeling of her pressing so firmly against my cock. Her smile widens. “Well, I was about to dispatch you to the hereafter, I mean, my knife was on your throat and all, when you poked me.”

“Ipokedyou,” I repeat.

“Yup. With that.” She glances between her legs at my crotch. “And I realized that if I killed you, I’d always wonder what it feels like.”

I’m not sure if it’s the ropes forcing the blood away from my arms and legs and into my groin, but it definitely happens. My dick goes from steel to granite even though my brain is screaming at it that this bitch is crazy. Fuck, maybe that’s why it’s so hard.

“Why didn’t you just take what you wanted?” I ask.

“I’m a killer, not a rapist.”

“What youareis a psycho.”

Her mouth quirks up to one side. “Is that a bad thing?”

“So you waited for me to wake up to what? As for my consent?”

“Yes.”

I’m stunned. Truly. “What exactly are you asking for?”

“I want to get off with you. On you. You know what I mean.”

I stare at her in disbelief. It’s not just her strange morals, but my own. Because I’m oddly flattered that she’s asking for my permission. And I want to know what she feels like too. I want to see her getting off on me.

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