Page 70 of Savage Vows
She folds her arms, leans back against the edge of the desk. “You seem angry at the world.”
Maybe I am. I study the floor, the scuff marks by my shoes. “There’s a lot about this world worth being angry at.”
She smiles, faint and crooked. “But I’m here now.”
That lands somewhere deep. I meet her gaze. “Yeah. You are.” And honest to God, that’s all that matters.
She tips her face into my hand, lips parted, eyes fluttering open to meet mine. I don’t remember making the decision, but I’m already leaning in, the distance gone.
Our mouths crash together, hungry—her hands in my hair, my arms around her waist, yanking her tight against me like I need proof she’s really here. The kiss is messy, breathless, the kind that drowns out everything else. My anger melts into heat, into the press of her body against mine, into the sweet, desperate sound she makes when I bite her lower lip.
I push her back until she’s pinned between me and the desk, my hands sliding under her sweater, splaying over bare skin. She arches into me, nails digging into my shoulders, tongue tangling with mine like she’s just as starved.
Her words set me on fire. I grip her sweater, yanking it up—she raises her arms, and it’s off, tossed somewhere behind us. My hands find her breasts, hungry, squeezing, thumbs teasing her nipples through the thin lace of her bra. She moans, arches into my touch, clawing at my shirt, popping buttons in her haste.
I rip the rest off, desperate, barely caring if I tear the fabric. She fumbles with my belt, hands shaking, swearing under her breath. I help her—shove my pants down, kick them off. Herskirt rides up, panties already slick as I drag them down her thighs and let them fall to the floor.
I pull her to the edge of the desk, bare and flushed, legs spread for me, and I press my cock to her entrance, groaning at how wet and ready she is. She clutches my shoulders, eyes wild, breath hot against my mouth.
“Dante,” she gasps, “please?—”
That’s all it takes.
I slam into her in one hard thrust, the angle perfect, her pussy gripping me tight and hot. She cries out, nails raking down my back, heels digging into my ass to pull me deeper. I drive into her, rough and unrelenting, each thrust sending the desk rattling against the wall.
She’s wild beneath me—kissing me back, biting my lip, whimpering filthy words into my mouth as I fuck her harder. I grip her waist, fingers digging in, losing all sense of gentleness. Just pure need—grinding, thrusting, taking. Her tits bounce with every motion, and I lean down, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard until she cries out for more.
She wraps her legs around me, meeting every stroke, eyes locked on mine, pupils blown wide with want. The room disappears—there’s only us, the slap of skin on skin, the frantic, messy heat of needing each other right now, no holding back.
“God, Dante, don’t stop?—”
“Never,” I growl, pounding into her, watching her fall apart, knowing I’m just as close, just as wild.
Her body tightens, trembling around me, and then she shatters. She moans my name, clinging to me as I lose myself in her,coming hard, spilling deep as I kiss her through it, both of us wrecked and gasping, every nerve raw.
For a moment, the only thing in the world is her.
Afterward, I stay inside her for a moment, catching my breath, heart pounding against hers. The room is quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the distant tick of the hallway clock. Her thighs tremble around my waist; I run my hands down her sides, grounding both of us.
I lift her gently off the desk, her legs still locked around me, and just hold her there—her arms looped around my neck, our foreheads pressed together, both of us spent and breathless. She looks up at me, eyes soft, lips swollen from kissing.
I clear my throat, voice rough. “Are you…on anything? Protection?” I brush her hair back, searching her face for any sign of embarrassment. “Because I keep coming inside you.”
She blushes, ducking her head. “I—no, not right now.” She glances up through her lashes, nervous and a little shy. “Do you…want me to get on the pill?”
I trace her jaw, thumb lingering at her cheek. “If you want. I just want to know what you want, Adriana.”
I help her straighten her skirt, find her sweater on the floor, and tug it over her head with hands still shaking from what we just did. She smooths her hair in the reflection of the glass cabinet, cheeks still flushed. Before she leaves, she glances back at me—eyes bright, lips curving in a small, secret smile. Something about it tugs at a place deep inside me.
“Goodnight, Dante,” she whispers, slipping out the door.
“Goodnight,” I echo, watching her disappear down the hall.
My phone vibrates, the screen lighting up with Yonez’s name.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Julianne called Adriana today.”
