Page 153 of Filthy Savage

AMARA

An hour later, we arrive at a trendy steakhouse restaurant, lights dimmed as he takes me up the steps and ushers me inside.

“We’re heading to the rooftop,” he tells me as a maître d’ shows us to an elevator.

As I look around the main floor, I find it empty.

“Where is everyone?” I whisper just as we get in.

“There’s no one here but us, little rabbit. I rented it out.”

My eyes expand. “Wow. That’s sweet.”

And expensive.

His fingers squeeze mine as we enter the elevator for a quick ride before we’re walking into the upper level of the restaurant. A single round table with a black tablecloth and small votive candles in the center greets us. The overhead canopy is covered in mood lighting, changing between blue, pink, and deep purple.

When a chill crawls up my skin, he shakes off his jacket. “Put this on, baby.”

He holds it out as I slip my arms through the sleeves, his expensive woodsy cologne hitting my nostrils. It’s like my own canopy of heaven.

He pulls the chair for me, and once I’m seated, he drags his beside me, his leg touching mine. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look already?”

“Maybe.” My cheeks hurt from how big I smile, his eyes dancing to my lips with a warm current, making my belly flop.

“I can’t seem to stop.” The back of his hand strokes my jaw, and my heart lurches, rendering me unable to look away.

A waitress clears her throat, but he doesn’t pay her any mind, his attention cemented on me.

“May I get you two something to drink?”

“Bourbon neat for me. And rosé for her. For dinner, we will have all of the chef’s specials.”

“Coming right up.” She places two waters on the table and disappears.

I’m glad for it, wanting us to be alone with his hands on me, those eyes swimming with want and affection.

“The food here is amazing…” His voice grows huskier, his free hand slinking up my thigh, taking the dress with it.

“I don’t care what we eat,” I whisper, my heart racing uncontrollably as I wonder what he’ll do next.

“Neither do I.” He drops his lips to my throat, groaning as he kisses me there. “Because nothing tastes better than you.”

Before I can reply, he drives two fingers inside me, working me deeper as I fight not to cry out in absolute mind-bending pleasure.

“There you go.” The waitress appears, and when I try to move his hand, he doesn’t let me, keeping it where it is.

She places our drinks on the table while he thrusts deeper.

“If I can get you guys anything else, please just let me know.”

Thrust.

“The food will be here shortly.”

Thrust.

“Oh God,” I grit, accidently hitting the table with my fist.

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