Page 45 of Savage Sin

“Sounds like you speak from experience.”

“Take it as a warning from someone who has lived a little longer than you.”

Someone has hurt him. I want to ask who, but I fear the answer.

I raise my hands to settle over his. The sad part about all this is he’s not wrong. I do feel fragile. But glass easily grows stronger until no one can break past the fortress I’ve built around myself.

Do I want that? Do I continue living my life, always mistrusting everyone? Can I open myself up enough to at the very least know what a man’s wanted touch feels like?

“Rage, this… this warmth between us. It goes beyond just me looking for a gentle touch or a teasing kiss.”

He gives me a glorious, sensual smile. I reach up and trace the full line of his lips with the tip of my finger. “Please don’t judge me for this.” I rise to the very edges of my height, frame his face with my hands, and kiss him. Our lips meet and he opens for me. He moves us back and I’m on the edge of the sink with little effort. Both of my knees are lifted and the hard ridge of his cock finds the seam of my pussy.

Taking our kiss deeper, I drive my fingers deeper into his hair, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He slowly rocks into me, our clothes a frustrating barrier between us.

And then he’s moving me off the sink and turning me to face the mirror. Standing in front of him, he towers over me. A giant next to a fairy. His arm winds around my middle protectively. Possessively.

“Hands on the sink,hermosa,” he murmurs close to my ear.

When I don’t comply, he makes sure I do. We stay like that for a moment. His hands locked on mine; his body wrapped against my backside. Through the thin track shorts, it is impossible to miss his hard cock against my ass.

I rub the side of my face against his.

He makes a sound of approval and nuzzles my neck. The spot right below my earlobe and my second weakest point.

“Rage, what’s happening between us? This feels wrong, yet not.”

Smooth, warm lips drag over the beating pulse point. “Did that feel good?” he husks.

My head tilts a fraction, offering him access to more of me. He tightens his arm around my front and slides his hand beneath the cotton shirt. Strong fingers cup my tender breasts. He’s gentle at first, but when his touch brushes over the hard peak of my tight nipple, a ripple effect happens.

I suck in harshly. Warmth spills between my thighs and the feel of his cock growing harder leaves my senses battling for control. Standing like this, I fit directly beneath his chin. Remnants of his morning aftershave linger and I draw in the masculine scent.

“Does that feel wrong, Persi?”

Ice blue meets vibrant green in the mirror.

I don’t know how to respond to that and it doesn’t seem Rage needs my help to continue his torture of me. His hand trails a hot path over my quivering stomach. He stops at the edge of my shorts, but only long enough to make sure I’m watching him touch my body. I manage to hold his daring gaze only briefly. The sight of his tattooed hand splayed over my bare skin proves too tempting. But what I can’t take my eyes off if I try is the way all those tattoos disappear under the band of my shorts an inch at a time until…until…

My heart thunders wildly. It’s racing out of control. Streaks of lightning tears across the sky through the window’s reflection in tune with the growing energy inside me.

Calluses scrap over the tender flesh of my sex. He curls his fingers through the moisture gathering between my thighs. The look he levels on me through the mirror pulls on strings attached to my heart. I wish it didn’t, but like he said. What is the use of lying? To myself, anyway.

My eyes fall closed and I move against him. I don’t know if it was the brush of his breath across my neck or the low rumble of noise from his chest. Panic surges through me and my fingers clench over his.

He stills.

Flashes of the last man’s touch stain this moment. I try to push them away, but my body doesn’t understand gentleness, no matter how loud my heart screams.

My breath hitches and locks in my chest.

“Shh, Persi. It’s only me, baby. Open those pretty eyes and look at me. That’s it. Open your eyes and look at who is touching you.”

My heart shudders. He says that as though I should trust him and yet I do exactly as he gently commands.

He pushes deeper between my legs from the front while his other lifts the curve of my ass in a move that has his jean-clad arousal pushing harder against me. Teasing fingers dance over my throbbing nub.

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