Page 151 of Savage Roses

Salvatore grows more heated, more insistent as the rock of my hips does. He clenches my backside within his dominant grip almost to the point of pain—mind-numbingly complementary with the pleasure pulsing through me—and drops many other kisses wherever he can. He kisses my lips before moving to my neck. He bites my shoulder, his teeth scraping against the skin in an almost primitive, animalistic display of love.

My pussy throbs and tingles, my clit swollen and hypersensitive. It’s enough to send me spinning into a wave of pure ecstasy. I cry out and then bury my face in his neck, my hips tilting, their motions frantic and uncontrolled.

Salvatore rolls us over as I’m lost in these orgasmic waves. The next thing I know, I’m on my back, my legs are shoved wide, and he’s balls deep inside me. My mouth drops open and I bow up at the sudden change and new angle at which my spasming pussy’s being stimulated.

Half disoriented and fresh off orgasmic bliss, I almost protest. My hand reaches up to his sweaty, muscled chest, and I almost give him a nudge. But when I search my brain for the words to tell himI’msupposed to be fuckinghisbrains out, I come up short.

My lungs run out of air.

AndSalvatore’s in savage mode—the sexiest sight I’ve ever witnessed. His body a god-like display of flexing and clenching muscle that gleams with sweat. Even after the captivity, his physique is one to behold, making my mouth water and my pussy moist too. His face remains tight and controlled yet somehow gone to the same intense pleasure I’m feeling—it’s in his eyes as they burn with an unquenchable passion.

He’ll never have enough.

But he’ll certainly try. His pelvis snaps in vicious thrusts that go as deep as they do hard. When he bottoms out, it starts all over again. He grips my legs far apart and slams himself into me, forcing another whimper from my lips and pulse of my sore pussy.

That’s when it occurs to me in a hazy, post-orgasm epiphany. He needs this. The aggression, the savagery, the freedom to unleash the extent of every pent-up emotion he’s held in for the last few weeks—negative or positive—his pleasure comes from the control and the dominance.

I happily submit, letting him express his brutal desire. He fucks me with the relentlessness of a man long denied. More sweat drenches us and drips off our bodies. The sounds we emit are strangled and unintelligible, grunts and desperate pants for breath. Not once does his burning gaze ever leave me.

It bores into me, making my skin flush and heart feel like it’ll bust from my chest.

He’s insane… insanely in love with me, and as he fucks me, I become lost all over again. I’m on my way to another moment of surrender.

My hand creeps to my clit and greedily rubs the throbbing nub. He decides it’s not how he wants me to come though. He my hand pries away, coming in so close our pelvises align and his dick sits impossibly deep.

With the same good hand of his, he grips my throat and grinds against me. The swirl of his dick deep inside lights me up. My pussy tingles and throbs, regardless of how aching and spent it felt mere seconds ago.

Salvatore reaches another pleasure spot,thesweetest pleasure spot, grinding into me, and sends me rolling straight into another orgasm. His name falls from my lips. I writhe and my eyes almost slip shut, but he squeezes my windpipe, signaling to keep them open. He wants to hold my gaze as I come, his own blazing with hot passion.

“Tell me what you want,” he orders. “Let me hear the words, Phi.”

We’ve played this game many, many times.

My heart sings at the familiarity, at how fundamentally unchanged and unbreakable our love is. I’m Phi and he’s Jon and no one can take that away from us.

I’m breathless, my voice hoarse. “Fill me up, Jon. Fuck a baby into me.”

He kisses me, open-mouthed with the same level of passion alive in his eyes.

Then he fucks me. He withdraws until the tip before slamming back into me and my convulsing pussy. He fucks the rest of his urges away, exerting his dominance to the very last deep thrust, where he buries himself and gives in.

Salvatore coming has always been a wondrous sight.

Now’s no different as I watch a man always so composed, so in control,losethat composure and control. He grunts and curses and his muscles twitch. Finally, he’s consumed in enough pleasure that he closes his eyes and empties himself inside me.

We lay collapsed on the bed with heaving breaths and spent bodies for who knows how long. I don’t even have the energy to close my legs… which is okay, because Salvatore grips my thigh and drags me toward him.

“Fuck,” he says, nuzzling my face with his, our noses touching. “I never thought we would…”

I smile, sore but as sated and happy as humanly possible. “I know. Me neither.”

“There were so many times I thought about you. But it wasn’t real.”

“This moment is.”

“It feels almost… it’s too good…”

“It isn’t. We’re real, Jon. I’m real and so is what you feel,” I say, nestling closer, my palm on his chest. “So is what I said earlier. Remember the night you asked me about my birth control? I haven’t taken it since.”