Page 35 of Filthy Savage

AMARA

He fucks me. There’s no other way to describe what he’s doing. The bed shakes.

My voice. My cries of need—loud and unabashed—unable to catch my breath. I beg him to take me harder, and I don’t even recognize who I am right now.

I like who I am with him. It’s as though, in a short time, he’s shown me who I can be.

His palm pushes into my cheek, his other hand slapping me hard across my ass. “That’s it, baby girl. Take every fucking inch and come on it.”

His animalistic grunts, the sweat coating his forehead… It’s so raw and masculine.

I’ve already come four times, him doing exactly as he promised, and I don’t know how many more I have in me.

“Yes, please don’t stop.” I’m so close, I can almost taste it.

It’s as though he knows my body better than I do. My hair is in his fist as he pistons inside so deep, it’s like I’m floating.

I had no idea what I was truly missing. And now that I know, I don’t know how I can give this guy up.

But I’ll have to.

He tugs my hair, holding on while he rams inside me, like he’s trying to ingrain himself into my body until we’re one. The sound of our skin meeting as he pounds into me only intensifies every lustful feeling. The harder he takes me, the more that sensation inside me grows, like I’m going to explode.

“Yes!” I scream, my fingers curling at the small of my back as everything in me shatters, the most intense orgasm taking hold.

“Fuck, you’re so damn sexy squirting all over my dick.”

I did what?!

But I have no time to think. He increases his speed until he growls, pressing his hips into me as he releases into the condom.

His movements slow, his arm curling around my front as he kisses down my spine. “You’re so damn special.”

My eyes burn at the words. It’s the second time he’s said that, and he doesn’t even realize how much it actually means to me. I’ve never heard that before.

“You okay, baby?” He tugs my chin to the side until our eyes meet, his cock still inside me.

“Mm, yeah.” A lazy smile fastens on my lips. “That was…everything.”

I let out a yawn, and he chuckles, undoing my wrists and massaging my skin there before he’s sliding out of me and tossing the condom away.

When he returns, he stands over me like a god out of Greek mythology—strong, powerful, deadly even. He has this look in his eyes, like he knows what he’s capable of. But I’m not at all scared of him.

“I want you in my bed.” He slips his arms under me, and without a fight, I let him carry me into his bedroom.

Gently, he lowers me on the soft mattress before sliding in beside me. As he tucks my satiated body against his chest, his fingertips stroke up and down my arm.

“Go to sleep. We’ll talk over breakfast tomorrow. Then maybe have a swim.”

That sounds nice.

He pulls the duvet over us, and I burrow my cheek closer against his beating heart, this sense of comfort and peace overtaking me.

I want more than anything to tell him who I am, but I can’t. My mother would ruin everything.

I have to accept this for what it is: a single night of pleasure, one I’ll never have again.

“Night.” A tight smile forms on my lips because he has no idea that I won’t be here when he wakes up.

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