Page 128 of Savage Hearts
She wraps her legs around my back and her arms around my shoulders and kisses me.
It’s like falling off a cliff all over again.
All the adrenaline, all the dizziness, all the tumbling down into lakes of burning flame. I thrust into her silken wet heat, loving the way her breasts bounce against my chest, swallowing her small cries of pleasure as she feeds them to me.
When she breaks the kiss and I look down at her, my breath catches.
Time slows to a crawl.
I feel every throb of my heart, every bead of sweat on my skin,every hot pulse of blood coursing through my veins. I’m aware of the ache in my chest, the smell of her hair, the sounds our bodies make as they move together.
The room has shrunk to the space of us, only us on this bed.
The power we’re generating is enough to light the whole world on fire.
This is why some men don’t like missionary.
It’s too intense. Too vulnerable. Too intimate, all the emotion and energy getting exchanged right up close.
Watching her face go through a dozen different expressions at once is overwhelming.
It’s overwhelming for her, too. She stares right back at me, gazing deeply into my eyes as our bodies move together. As we share all those things that can’t be put into words.
Those sacred things that can only be spoken by two hearts beating in tune.
The silent, holy language that souls speak.
Eyelids fluttering, she whispers my name. Then she arches and moans.
Hard, rhythmic contractions milk the length of my cock.
She comes with her eyes closed and her head thrown back as I watch her, thrusting deep, feeling her pussy throb and her taut nipples slide back and forth across my chest.
With a sudden, violent jerk, I’m over the edge, too.
I drop my head to her shoulder, close my eyes, and shudder as my climax slams hard into me.
It’s so intense, I lose my breath. I can’t make a sound. I just ride it out, pulsing deep inside her as she rocks her hips, her thighs quivering around my waist.
The loud, rumbling bass of thunder masks the moan of despair that slips past my lips.
Even as we come together in the windswept dark and hold each other, trembling, I hear a clock ticking in the background.
Maybe she was right when she said I’m not really bad.
If I were, I wouldn’t care that I’m being selfish by keeping her here, chained up in the dragon’s lair.
If it weren’t for that damn white knight, I’d keep her chained to me forever.
THIRTY-SIX
RILEY
When the rain tapers off and the sun comes out, I’m lying spent in Mal’s arms, drunk with afterglow.
Beneath my ear, his heart thuds a strong, steady beat. My arm is flung over his chest. One of my legs is twined between his. I’m tucked snugly into his side, shimmering with happiness.
My head rises as he inhales deeply. Stirring, he presses a kiss to my hair.
