Page 47 of Savage Princess

There’s an almost frenzied look on his face, his expression taut with lust as he looks down at me, arched against him as he drives into me harder. His fingers wrap around my wrists, as if I weren’t already held in place. I see him for the first time completely, without all of the walls he keeps up, without his so carefully honed self-control.

He let it slip for a moment, and I can feel everything underneath it, all the lust and passion and need.

I want to keep it. I want to keephim.

The thought startles me, but not enough to jolt me out of the moment. My body is still wracked with pleasure, the spasms of it rippling through me again and again, with every hard slam of his cock into me as he drives me down into the mattress. “Fuck,fuck—” he breathes, his hands still gripping my wrists as his hips grind against mine. “God, that feels so good,Elena—”

He’s close. I know how to tell now, the way his thrusts lose their rhythm momentarily, the way I feel him shudder and jerk each time he sinks into me and slides back out again. He rubs against my swollen clit when he grinds down into me. Each time I feel a fresh, hot burst of pleasure, as if I’m constantly on the verge of coming, a dozen small orgasms ripple through my body. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and then—

I feel his hands slide up, fumbling with the belt as he drives into me as deeply as he can go, hips rolling against mine as if he can’t go deep enough. I feel something bigger, a pleasure so overwhelming that I’m not sure I can bear it.

He hardens inside of me, throbbing, and when I feel the hot rush of his cum start to fill me, it spills me over the edge into a climax so intense that my vision blurs.

My nails sink into his shoulders, scratching lines in his skin, furrows down lower than his shoulder blades as he bucks against me, groaning through gritted teeth with an almost animalistic sound. I feel every muscle in his body go rigid, my own tight and shuddering as I clench around him, holding him inside of me as I feel him come in wave after wave, filling me beyond what my body can take. I can feel him dripping out of me, around the thick stretch of his cock and down my thighs, and he’s still thrusting inside of me, as if he could keep going.

I feel his hands on my hips, and I let out a gasp as he suddenly rolls onto his back, bringing me with him with his still-hard cock still buried inside of me. I plant my hands on his chest, balancing myself, and as he starts to thrust up into me, I realize that heisstill going. That he’s not about to stop.

Levin reaches up, one hand tangling in my hair as he drags my mouth down to his. “Fuck, Elena—” he groans against my lips. “I can’t fucking stop—”

I can barely find the strength to stay atop him, I’m so exhausted from the pleasure, but I don’t have to. His arm is around me, keeping me there as he thrusts up into me again and again, keeping me impaled on his cock as he fucks me. I feel my clit grind against his pelvis with each thrust as he holds me against him, my nipples brushing against the soft hair of his chest as his other hand grips the back of my head, keeping my mouth against his.

He holds me there, completely in his power, and nothing has ever felt so good. I’ve wanted this for so long—for him to lose control with me. To give me this.

I never know if it will be more than tonight. But right now, I can’t think about anything other than this exact moment, and how perfect it is.

It takes him longer to come again. It all blurs into an endless sea of hands and mouths and skin on skin as he holds me atop him, thrusting up again and again. When I feel him shudder underneath me as he groans against my mouth, I feel myself go limp as the pleasure washes over me again in waves.

Afterward, we lie there in silence in the darkness. Levin holds me against him, his half-hard cock trapped between us, his arm over my waist. I feel his warm breath on my neck, and I don’t want to say a word.

I don’t want to break the moment. And after a while, I feel his breath even out, and I know he’s asleep.

I know I get a night of falling asleep in his arms.

At least one more.

Elena

Ican tell, throughout the day leading up to the next game, that Levin is nervous. It’s small things with him—a tic in his jaw, a nervous movement to his hands, but I know him well enough by now to see it. There’s an intimacy to that that I enjoy—knowing him like that. It makes me feel closer to him, which helps ease the fact that, as usual, Levin follows up our night together by pulling away from me.

It’s not easy, but I manage to get ready in the small, cramped bathroom of our motel. I don’t have much to do with my hair, but I leave it long and loose, twisting it up while it’s damp with some strips of paper towel so my natural waves are fuller. I opt for the black dress for the first night, keeping a light hand with my makeup—both so that it doesn’t look overdone, and so I don’t run out of the testers we bought.

I can see from the look on Levin’s face when I step out of the bathroom, my hair brushed out and completely dressed, that he’s appreciative of the effort. There’s a flicker of heat in his gaze as it slides down the length of me and up again, and he nods.

“Well, there’s no doubt you’ll be a distraction tonight. Let’s just hope it works in our favor.”

The game is at a semi-nice nightclub in the city. Levin gives his name to the bouncer, and I walk in on his arm as we’re escorted past the bar and up to a higher level where there’s a second bar and rosy lighting, a table already set up with men around it sipping drinks and waiting for it to begin. Levin gets a vodka at the bar, and I take a seat, ordering a glass of wine and arranging my skirt so that the split in it falls over my knee, giving anyone who’s looking a view of my bare leg up to mid-thigh.

“You look stunning,” Levin murmurs close to my ear, his breath warm against the shell of it. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

A warm glow suffuses me at the praise. I’m here to distract everyone else, but what I want most is forhimto think I look beautiful. The mission aside, it’s what Levin thinks that matters most to me.

I let myself imagine, as he sits down at the table and starts to make polite small talk with the other men, that this is our life. That Levin and I are together, and we make our money going from town to town, hustling card games for a living. That I regularly sit at a bar with a glass of wine or a martini, looking beautiful and aloof, while he plays cards and wins all the money, and then we run hand in hand back to whatever hotel we’re staying at for the night, laughing over how we’ve pulled it off again.

It’s an exciting, romantic fantasy, and I let myself sink into it, just for a moment. There’s no harm in it, really—and a part of me wishes it could be true.

Levin wants to get me back to safety. But I’m not so sure that a safe, boring life is what I want.

When I see his glass getting low, I bring him a fresh drink, just as I know I’m meant to. I set it down at his elbow, bending over as I kiss his cheek, my hand brushing against the back of his neck. I can feel all the eyes around the table on me, assessing me, drifting down to the glimpse of my cleavage in the drape of the dress’s neckline.

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