Page 53 of Savage Protector

“I listened last time…”

“No, you didn’t. Or if you did, my meaning went over your head. You heard what you wanted to hear.”

“I heard what you said,” I retort. “A big, fat ’no thanks’.”

“Whereas what I actually said, was ‘not yet’.”

“You said?—”

“I told you it wasn’t the right time. It was too soon, you weren’t ready.” His gaze hardens. “I don’t take advantage of vulnerable young girls.”

“I’m not vulnerable.”

“No, not any longer, I agree. You’re two years older. Not a lot, it’s true, but you’ve lived independently, been studying, doing your own thing, living your own life. You’re under our protection now so you’re not running from anything…apart from me, perhaps. Or should that be, yourself?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What I do know is that I wanted to sleep with you two years ago, but I don’t anymore.” The biggest lie I’ve told so far. He’s fucking irresistible with his beautiful dark eyes, his expertly styled wavy hair the colour of coal, his gorgeous tattoos and ripped body. I have a pulse, why would I not be drooling?

But I’m not ruled by my hormones. Zayn Malik is a player, I know that much, and he’s dangerous. He keeps bad company. He works as…well, I’m not sure what he does for a living, but it’s something I don’t really want to think about.

“I need to leave. I need to go back to my own flat.”

“Not possible yet.”

“Then when?”

“I don’t know. I’m working on it. A few days, perhaps.”

I blink and realise my eyes are brimming with tears. “Please, let me go.”

He swipes my eyes with the pads of his thumbs. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but it’s important that you understand. I never meant to reject you. To hurt you.”

“You didn’t. I?—”

“Yes. I did. I was clumsy, I should have taken more care with you.”

I can only gaze at him. Is it possible I misunderstood? “So, what now?” I wonder.

His mouth curls in a sensual smile. “Now, we lose these seriously sexy pyjamas, and we go back to where we were. You wouldn’t want to miss the good bit, would you?”

I tease my brow. The second-year medical student in me takes over. “Do you have condoms? Because I don’t want?—”

“I have condoms,” he assures me. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

He kisses me again,and this time there’s nothing of the tentative exploration, no hesitation. He knows what he wants. So do I.

I lie down on my back and remain motionless while he unfastens every single one of the buttons on my pyjama top. Neither do I move a muscle when he parts the slinky fabric to bare my breasts.

“Beautiful,” he mouths. “So lovely.” He lowers his head to take my right nipple between his lips. He’s achingly gentle when he scrapes his teeth against the swelling bud, even more so when he closes his mouth around me and sucks.

I arch. “Oh my God,” I moan.

He shifts to the other breast and repeats his game. He’s toying with me, playing, enjoying my response. And I’m putting on quite a show, it’s true.

I’m writhing against the mattress, grabbing at his shoulders, his head, pressing him closer to me. I can’t get enough.

His hand is splayed across my abdomen, circling slowly, caressing my flesh. He continues to suckle, all the time his palm circles lower and lower. The tips of his fingers slide beneath the elasticated waist of my loose trousers, then lower still. Now heisexploring, seeking, finding.

I let out a small cry when his probing fingers reach my core. His touch is featherlight, barely there, but so…so potent. The pad of his middle finger rests on my clit. He strokes softly, front to back, then side to side.

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