Page 18 of Savage Reign

“How do you know I’m a nice girl?”

I smile. “Just a hunch.”

She exhales slowly, her lips pressed together. “I don’t want to be a nice girl tonight,” she murmurs. “I don’t want to know your name, I don’t want to know who you are, I don’t want to exchange phone numbers. I want somewhere we can be alone so you can blow my mind. You’re up for the challenge, aren’t you?”

I pull her against me, enjoying this newfound confidence. “I see. So you only want me for my body?”

“Absolutely.”

I bend forward, whispering in her ear, “In that case, do you want me to make you come with my fingers, my tongue, or my cock? I’m happy to oblige with all three, but that means going somewhere more private.”

She reaches down and cups my package. Holy hell, this is not the Sofiya from five years ago. This creature is someone entirely different. She knows what she wants, and what she wants is growing by the minute, hardening at her touch.

“Let’s not make this complicated. Take me somewhere with a lock on the door and fuck me senseless. And then… we say goodbye. Got it, stranger?”

I’ll gladly grant her the first part of her request, but saying goodbye after, definitely not happening.

“Got it.”

CHAPTER

SEVEN

SOFIYA

Even as hepushes open the bathroom door, I know this is insane.

My friends know I went to talk to the sexy stranger—I told them that was my plan. I’m sure they think we’re making out in some dark corner, but they have no idea I am in this out-of-the-way bathroom, about to have sex with a man I don’t know. A man with rough edges and a dark intensity that should feel scary but doesn’t. Instead of panic, I feel a heady rush as the lock clicks into place.

Just for tonight, I want to lose myself in the arms of this stranger who sets my blood on fire. I craved freedom, and now I have it for a short while. This is as free as it gets. Maybe Daria and Alex are right—last names are overrated.

The bathroom is private. Fancy-looking, with marble countertops and a sleek gold backsplash. The low lighting casts enough of a glow for me to meet his eyes in the mirror above the sink. His stare is intense, but that’s his entire vibe.

My heart pounds, anticipation curling tight inside me as he spins me around so I am facing him and my ass is pressed against the counter. His hands glide down my body, skimming the curves of my breasts, pausing as they reach the hem of my dress.

“You sure you know what you’re getting into?” he growls against my neck.

“I’m sure,” I insist. He’s giving me an out, a chance to run, but I won’t.

There’s something about the way he moves, smooth and predatory. Like a man who always gets what he wants. That kind of swagger reminds me of Roman, of the Syndicate men, but he’s not from that world, as far as I can tell. No tattoos, just a sharp jawline, and that calm, lethal confidence.

“I won’t ask again,” he says, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling my head back. I’ve never been handled like this, and I fucking love it. When he grabbed my neck earlier, not knowing it was me, it was shocking—but it awakened something inside me.

Our lips hover inches apart, but he doesn’t close the distance. Instead, he lets his breath brush against my mouth and meets my gaze like he’s savoring every moment of our exchange.

“Fuck,” he growls before claiming my lips. His kiss starts soft but quickly turns hungry. Possessive. Almost angry.

His tongue teases mine, tasting me with a confidence that makes my head spin. It feels like he’s claiming my mouth, and I grab the back of his head, pulling him closer. He makes a rough sound, his hand on my ass tugging me close, every inch of my body flush against him.

He tastes smoky, with a hint of heat, and I let myself drown in it. I don’t know him, and I never will, but right now, I’m counting on him to fulfill every unspoken promise between us.

His palms glide down my thighs, fingers digging into my flesh as he lifts me onto the sink’s edge. His hard length presses against me as he hikes my dress around my hips. A whimper escapes my lips when he slips my panties aside and traces a knuckle over my soaked entrance.

“Oh, baby, you’re so fucking wet. Is this all for me?”

His lips move down my neck, and I arch into him, my core pulsing with need. “Yes,” I breathe, unable to deny how badly I need him.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

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