Page 66 of Savage Desire

Asher stops dead in his tracks, forcing me to do the same as he leans in to whisper in the guy’s ear. It’s over in a split second and we’re moving again. Before I can even consider asking what that was about, even if it had nothing to do with me, we’re heading inside where the music is pounding and it’s impossible to be heard.

He keeps me close, but it’s not hard when the sea of people before us part naturally from his presence. There’s no worming my way through people, no pushing and shoving or apologizing. Just a clear path.

The dark hallways open up to The Aurum after a few minutes, and we take the steps right down the center, where I spot the others already gathering. Tatum is murmuring something into Lincoln’s ear, and he nods along intently. It’sonly when he pulls back that he looks up through the crowd to see us approaching.

Lincoln’s gaze latches straight on to our joined hands, and an emotion flickers over his face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to be certain what it is.

The familiar spark of panic shivers down my spine, but before I can try and pull my hand away, Asher stops, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Don’t try and pull away again, Polaris. Otherwise, I’ll use the same hands to make your ass the same pink hue as your face.”

My jaw falls slack as my brain short circuits. Did he just say… oh fuck.

Without another word, he stands straight and cuts the remaining distance between us and the group. Bryony and Minnie are locked in a deep conversation, ignoring the world around them while Tatum offers me a soft smile when we arrive.

“Nice of you to join us, Brother. The fight is just about to begin,” Lincoln states, clapping Asher on the back, all while his gaze remains locked on our intertwined fingers.

“I had errands to run. Don’t complain when I’m here now,” he retorts, making my eyebrows rise in surprise, but if anything is off between them, it doesn’t seem to show. Tatum pays them no mind as if they’re like this all the time, but any chance of trying to decipher it evaporates the second the lights dim, the music cranks up louder, and a familiar song booms through the speakers.

On cue, a spot light beams in the distance and the familiar outline of Wylder appears a moment later. I watch, mesmerized as he saunters into the ring like he’s got all the time in the world while the crowd chant his name.

The atmosphere is electric, just as it was last time, and I’m quickly reminded of where the night headed after the last fight I attended. A delightful shiver runs down my spine.

Asher’s gaze snaps to mine as if he senses my thoughts, and a second later he’s maneuvering me to stand in front of him. He finally releases my hand, running his fingers over my hips as he places me perfectly flush against his chest.

I feel delirious as Wylder’s opponent heads toward the ring, the music changing and the chants not quite as prominent as they were for the man I’m here to watch. Everything feels hazy. I’m too caught up in Asher’s presence. His hands, his body, his attention, his words.

It’s intoxicating.

When the bell rings for the first round to begin, I try to blink through the lust and focus on the fight as I watch Wylder’s muscles flex and bulge while he maneuvers around the ring with a swagger.

My breath hitches when I feel lips press against the shell of my ear. “I can hear your heartbeat racing. Do you like watching my brother fight?” Asher asks, his hands inching a little higher at my sides. I don’t know how to answer. It’s clear I’m attracted to Wylder, I haven’t hidden it, but has Asher been paying enough attention to know that? Before I can answer, he continues. “If I were to slip my fingers in that tight cunt of yours, would I find you wet?”

Holy fuck.

He will now.

My breaths turn shallow as I keep my eyes on the ring, but I sense my body leaning farther into him. He must notice it too because his hands glide higher, his fingertips nestling just beneath my breasts.

Damn.

“Answer me, Polaris.”

I nod. There’s no chance in Hell I can muster a single word that isn’t a moan right now.

I have no idea where this is coming from with him, but it’s impossible to shy away, even if it feels as if I’m flying too close to the sun.

“We’re going to have to work on your words, Silver. A nod won’t be good enough for what I want,” he says before standing tall once more.

Holy crap. What does that mean?

His right hand drops from my waist and a pang of disappointment washes over me, but it’s quickly diminished when I feel his fingertips on my bare thigh instead.

My mind is jumbled with thoughts, desires, and questions, but instead of verbalizing any of them, I stare at Wylder, watching him watch me for a split second before he pounds his fist into his opponent’s face.

The room gasps and cheers with every slam of his knuckles, and the raw brutality of it leaves me… wet, to confirm Asher’s question from earlier.

My body ripples with tension, a knot tightening in my stomach as Asher’s hand slips under the hem of my dress while his left hand rises higher to fully engulf my breast through my dress.

Wylder catches the movement, even from a distance, and his urgency in the ring seems to escalate. My taut nipples pebble, desperate to feel Asher’s skin on mine, and I moan as he tweaks the peak with precision, even through the fabric.

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