Page 65 of Savage Princess

I kiss her before she can say anything more. We’re too close to the finish line for this, too near to separation to say things that can’t be taken back—and I find myself wanting to say them, too.

I’ve been around too long to not know when there’s something more between two people. There’s something here with Elena and me, something that I’ve been fighting, and I know we’re dancing on a razor’s edge. I’ve given in again and again, letting her have what we both want, allowing myself the pleasure of truly wanting someone that I’ve denied myself for so long.

But that’s as far as it can go. And I don’t want her to say things that she’ll wish she saved for someone who could stay, later.

“Levin—” she puts her hands against my chest, breaking the kiss. “Are you–you’re not strong enough yet. Not for this—”

“Oh, I think I can prove otherwise.”

I turn her so that her back is against the shower wall, my fingers quickly finding their way between her thighs as I kiss her again. She’s slick and hot and wet for me already, and I hear her gasp as I graze my fingers over her clit, feeling how swollen she is. I can feel her pulse under my fingertips, and I’m suddenly aching to taste her.

I kneel down in front of her in one swift motion, nudging her legs apart as I press my mouth between her thighs like a starving man. I want the taste of her on my tongue, and I feel her hand press against the back of my head, the water running down my neck and back in a hot rush as I run my tongue over her clit, groaning with pleasure. My cock slaps against my belly, hard and throbbing, and I reach down, stroking myself as I flutter my tongue over her clit and hear the sweet sound of her moan above me.

“Levin, ohgod—”

I feel the muscles of her thigh quiver under my hand. I want to remember all of it—the slick, sweet heat of her against my tongue, the sound of her voice rising into a soft cry as I tear my hand away from my cock and push two fingers into her, stroking her higher as I press my lips against her clit and suck her swollen flesh into my mouth. I feel her hips jerk against my face, feel her shudder and clench around my fingers, and I push a third into her, fucking her harder as I keep going. I can feel her coming, hear her moan turn into a high-pitched cry of pleasure as she bucks against my face, and her arousal floods over my tongue, but I’m not done.

In that moment, I don’t know how I’m ever going to be done with her.

I want to make her come again and again. I thrust my fingers up into her, and I feel her nails bite into the back of my scalp as I roll my tongue over her clit, knowing how sensitive she must be, flinging her headlong into another orgasm as I force her pleasure, desperate for more of it. I hear her cry out my name, and that’s all I can take as she floods my tongue again, and I stand up unsteadily, reaching for her thigh as I hook her leg around my uninjured side.

“Levin, are you—” she gasps, and I cover her mouth with mine again, swallowing up the words as I guide myself between her thighs.

“I need to be inside of you.” The words come out in a husky rasp against her lips. She moans, her hand curling around the back of my head as she pulls my mouth against hers again, as I slide into her in one long, exquisite thrust that leaves me shuddering with pleasure.

I hold myself there for a moment, rocking against her, savoring the feeling of her around me. Her skin is pressed to mine, warm and wet, the water running between us as I slide my tongue into her mouth and groan, almost unable to move. I want to stay buried inside of her, just like this, forever.

The ache in my chest tells me that this has gone too far. That what I feel with her isn’t just lust, or a fling, or the pleasure of being her first in almost everything. It’s something real and nearly tangible, a connection that I never meant to forge, and all I can do now is keep it from going any further.

But right now, I can’t do anything except lose myself in her.

She gasps when I start to thrust, long, slow strokes that end with me buried in her as deeply as I can go, savoring every slide of her flesh over and around mine. She arches against me, her other hand pressed to my shoulder, her breasts against my chest, her thighs against mine—so much of her touching so much of me, until I feel as if I could sink into her completely, as if we’re close to becoming one person.

“Oh god, Levin, you’re going to make me–oh–” the words break off as I feel her tighten around me again, another orgasm rippling through her as I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her to me, my hips rocking against hers as she grinds herself down onto my cock. She tilts her head back, the water streaming down her throat, collecting between us, and I press my lips against her jaw, her neck, thrusting up into her again and again until I can’t hold back any longer, either.

I should pull out. The thought enters my mind in a flash of recognition of what I keep doing, the mistake I keep making—but it’s too late. She’s so wet and tight, my cock is throbbing as I swell and harden inside of her. I’m coming before I can stop myself, the thought of flooding her as deeply as I can with it only intensifying my orgasm. I drive my hips upwards, wanting to stay inside of her, to leave my cum in her so deeply that she’ll never be rid of me.

The thought startles me, but not enough to stop.

I lean against her as the climax ebbs, shuddering, my forehead pressed against hers as she tilts her chin up and kisses me again softly.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” she whispers against my lips, and I close my eyes tighter, knowing to the very depths of my soul the thing that could ruin us both.

I feel the same way. And there’s no going back from it.

All I can do is keep it to myself—and keep her safe…even from me, and everything that comes with loving a man like me.

Elena

Idon’t want to be afraid of going to see Vasquez. After everything that’s happened, I’d like to think I wouldn’t be scared of anything anymore. But as we get ready to leave the motel, I feel a tight knot of fear in my stomach. I want to stay here, in the bubble of safety Levin and I have created in this room, removed from the outside world.

For days, once I knew he would live, I let myself disappear into just being with him. The close brush with death seemed to lower his defenses, and I let myself enjoy it. I didn’t think about what comes next. About the fact that for all the nights we’ve now spent in each other’s arms, and all the times he’s slept with me without trying to fight it, nothing has really changed.

There’s still an inevitable end—and now we’re almost there.

The silence in the room is heavy as we get dressed. I slip into a pair of jeans and a red button-up blouse that I found at one of the charity shops, leaving my hair loose and watching Levin as he pulls his t-shirt on a little stiffly, the wound on his side moving tautly. The stitches haven’t come out quite yet, and he’s still bandaged underneath the shirt.

Levin reaches for his jacket, sliding the gun into the waistband of his jeans, beneath his shirt. There’s very little money left, and he folds it up, tucking it into the inner pocket of his jacket as he glances over at me.

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