Page 150 of Savage Roses

But there’s still an element of hesitancy. Some sense of reluctance. He might not say a word of it aloud, though he doesn’t need to. I can read him and know.

He’s feeling…unworthy. Defeated. Self-depreciating, maybe due to his injuries and scars and what he seems to deem a failure.

I couldn’t disagree more; I’ve never wanted him more than I do right now. Which is why my body thrums in desperate desire to show him. Heal him and make him feel unspeakably good any way I can.

I lead him by the hand into the dimly lit bedroom. We don’t bother turning on more lights—the moment’s about experiencing each other with feel and touch.

I stretch up and meet him halfway for a hot kiss on the mouth. We indulge, immediately giving in to the passion we find with no finite end in sight. In a flurry of entwined arms and roving hands, eager lips and more eager tongues, I kiss him and he doesn’t hesitate to answer with his mouth.

As if coming alive, he wraps an arm around my lower back and kisses me until I’m momentarily forgetting my seductress mission. He knows my weak spots, remembers how deeply to kiss me if he wants to seize control and make me shudder with arousal.

But tonight’s not about me. It’s about him.

I break away, dodging his mouth, and ease him down on the bed. Climbing onto him, I trap him between my thighs. My hands come up to cup my breasts and tug the hardened brown beads that are my nipples for his viewing pleasure.

With a soft moan and gyration of my hips, I tell him how badly I want his dick in my pussy.

“Fill my pussy up with your cum,” I whisper in his ear. “Fuck a baby into me.”

His jaw clenches and thelookhe gives me is hot and intense. The burn of his eyes so dark and sexy, it makes my pussy ache in needy desperation.

I’m just as deprived as he is. No more evident than right now.

I grind against his cock, my panties the only barrier between us, and feel him start to harden mere minutes after our last round.

Salvatore grips my hip with his good hand before reaching around to my backside. His palm fills up with my ample curves, giving a squeeze, and then holding me against him. I can’t escape, positioned directly over this dick. The friction as I wind my hips and build up a rhythm makes us both breathe heavily.

We could probably come from just this alone.

I make it worse in other ways. My hands run along his scarred, battle-worn body. I kiss the hard ridges of his stomach and lick his nipples. My tongue swirls along each one and he doesn’t bother hiding his pleasure with thick, masculine sounds of approval. Hot and slow my mouth moves, making it up to his neck and jaw. My hands glide and stroke, tortuously soft touches lighter than a feather—I know just how to drive him to the edge.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you and your huge dick,” I tell him, my hand snaking between us. I’m trying to tug my panties down with as little maneuvering as possible, lifting my hips to get them off.

Salvatore has a better idea—he reaches between us and shreds the delicate fabric in a raw flex of power. It tears in half, no longer a barrier between us. If my pussy was wet and throbbing before, it’s spasming in desperation to feel him now. Any last part of me trying to play seductive and coy falls away.

I just want to fuck him. Right now.

I sink down on his engorged dick without further preamble. The moment is deeply satisfying, my soaked pussy stretching to fit his girth.

But more than the sudden fullness that makes me shudder and feel complete, is the intense intimate feel of the moment. Emotion charges the air, a presence of its own. My eyes flick to his and his to mine, and I know the same solitary thought occupies both of our minds while all others have been chased away—we thought we’d never be lucky enough for this.

We thought we’d never see each other again much less be afforded the chance to make love ever again.

It’s what we communicate to each other as my pussy pulses around him and he grips my thighs and husks out a deep, rough breath. I bend over him, taking his lips in a passionate kiss that he readily accepts. His large hand comes up and cups the side of my neck, gluing me to him as if he never intends on releasing me.

The kiss is hot and urgent, with his tongue plundering my mouth and making me clench tighter. My hips begin rocking of their own accord, adding yet another dimension of pleasure.

We’re eager and playful, our lips locked in a game of fervent, deep kisses. Instead, our bodies do the talking for us. They speak the many words we’ve been unable to say after being apart for weeks. After the deadly situations we’ve been subjected to and the trauma we’ve sustained.

Salvatore grips my ass and helps me along. His dick embedded in my pussy, never fully leaving, as we stroke deep, then deeper, and then a retreat that’s never completed—he’s out until only the head’s in before slotting back into my clenching, wet heat.

The sawing rhythm leaves my clit brushing up against him. I whimper the faster we go and the more friction grinds between us.

I’m so keyed in to the sensations washing over me, I don’t have any other thoughts. Just how Salvatore feels and how he makes me feel.

Just how in love with him I am.

The man I want as my husband and father of my children. I’ll stick by his side no matter how dark things get, and I’ll nurse him back to health when he needs me most. There’s no turning back from our deep bond, nor do I ever want to.