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Savage hadn’t taken his gaze from Seychelle the entire time she weighed his fate. Every second that went by felt like hours, but she needed to work things out her own way. He wanted to kiss her, to use every one of the considerable sexual tools in his arsenal to persuade her, but if she was going to make that commitment to him, it had to be real.

It was there on her face first. Resolve. Terror. She took a deep breath. His heart went crazy. His stomach did a slow somersault. It was his cock that reacted the most, knowing what was coming. It hurt, pulsing and throbbing, even jerking with dark lust and a depraved carnal need that was bone deep in him. She was going to sacrifice her life for him all over again. She was going to give him everything. Life. She was giving him life.

“Yes, then, Savage. I want to belong to you, but I can only promise to try. I hope you’re as good as you say you are, and my body does what you say it will.”

He leaned into her, framing her face with his hands. That beautiful, innocent face that he knew would always turn men’s heads. She didn’t see it, but he did. He took her mouth. Gentle at first, because she was his everything. He would always cherish her. The moment he tasted that wild strawberry, his heart seemed to melt inside his body. It was such a dichotomy. His heart at war with his cock. His kisses were the same. Gentle, caressing strokes of his tongue. Then his mouth went completely dominant. Hard. Rough. Demanding. Forcing her compliance when he had coaxed before.

His teeth tugged at her lower lip and then bit down. She gasped, and he soothed the bite with his tongue, slipped it into her mouth and stroked caresses, wanting to eat her up, devour her completely. Her taste was wild, exotic and addicting. There was a hint of a smoldering fire that suddenly flared to life and threatened to consume him. He wanted that burn.

He deepened the kiss, added more command, needing rougher. Needing to hear her gasp. Needing her to surrender everything to him. And she did. She kissed him back, melting into him even as he bit down on her lower lip a second time in exactly the same place. This time he slipped two fingers along the lacy edge of her panties, and then farther to test her reaction as he increased the pressure on her lip. She gasped, but her body went hot and liquid. He instantly released her lower lip and swept his tongue into her mouth.

He felt her taste taking him over just as he was taking her over. A coup with her kisses. Those flames rushed straight to his belly, where the monster crouched, swirling with dark threads, waiting to leap out. Orange and red consumed black, taking it all, leaving behind ash. Leaving him with a burning steel cock and a mind filled with images of his woman in graphic positions, waiting for him to put his stripes on her, frightened and exhilarated just as she was now.

He broke the kiss. “I need you to come lay across my lap, Seychelle. Let’s get the punishment over fast so I can be in you, where I belong.”

Her breath caught in her lungs and her gaze moved over his face, judging how serious he was. Did he mean it? If he did, what would he do to her?

He was so fucking proud of her, that internal struggle warring on her face. Her eyes, two bright sapphires, so filled with trepidation. With surrender. She didn’t know it yet, but she was giving herself to him—inch by slow inch.

Savage kept looking at her, his gaze holding her captive. “It’s only going to get worse if you fight me on this, Seychelle. This is something important. Just get up and stand right there.” He pointed to the spot just beside him. “Remove your panties, hand them to me and lay over my lap.”

He knew her heart was pounding. She looked so frightened, he was torn between pulling her to him to help her make the decision or pulling her into his arms and comforting her. He did neither. She had to do this herself. This first crucial step. There would be so many, and he would enjoy every single one, their journey through life together.

He kept staring at her, slowly asserting his will on her. It was subtle. She was ready to capitulate on her own, but he needed to see how much influence he had on her when it was needed—and it would be in the coming weeks. He would train her as slowly as possible, but he knew himself. The cycle was there, and she had to be prepared for the monster when he escaped. She’d been right about the woman he’d used weeks earlier—she hadn’t been in the least satisfying, and he was already getting edgy.


Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance