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Sliding one hand around her throat, he tipped her face to the side so that her eyes met his. Confusion. Lust. Need. Acceptance. Complete, total acceptance. It was all there in her beautiful blue eyes. He bent his head to kiss her. Slow. Lovingly. Giving her that. Then he drove into that scorching-hot sheath, hard. Deep. Brutally. Taking everything she offered him. Claiming her the way he needed to. Savagely. Just like his name.

Fire streaked up his legs, roiled in his belly, rushed through his veins like hot lava and burned behind his eyes until he saw in black and red. He pounded into her. Rough. Vicious. He alternated between tracing those gorgeous lines on her ass with his fingernails and gripping her hips and losing himself in mindless bliss.

“Savage.” Seychelle’s ragged voice was pleading.

Her sheath coiled around his cock. Hot. So fucking tight. Like a damn vise. He pistoned into her harder, right through a million fiery, wet tongues intent on sucking him dry. He’d never felt anything remotely like this in his life, and he wasn’t ready to give it up.

“Let go, baby.”

“It’s too much.” Her voice was a strangled plea.

“Everything, angel. Give me everything,” he insisted. He was merciless. He needed her to give him everything she was. “For me.”

He smacked his palm hard over those perfect stripes on the curve of her beautiful, rounded ass, and she detonated. Exploded. A powerful, twisting, biting fist gripped his cock with such scorching heat he nearly lost it. He swore for a moment his vison went black and his legs wanted to go to rubber. He refused to give up paradise, his iron will fighting his body’s response.

She took everything away. His fucking past. The memories burned into his brain. Into his bones. Into his skin. She was like some laser, removing every bad thing and replacing it with fucking nirvana. He planted one hand on the mattress beside her hip and rose above her, getting a different angle, one that allowed him a deeper, merciless drive. Her body gripped his so tight, never wanting to let him go. Welcoming him. Wanting him. Loving him, no matter that he’d unleashed that beast in him and she saw all of him.

“Again,” he ordered. “Again, Seychelle.” He rubbed her upturned bottom gently. She was breathing raggedly. Panting. But she was moving on him, pushing back into his relentless feral rhythm.

She shook her head. “I can’t, Savage. It’s too much. I can’t.”

“One more time for me, baby. With me this time.” He lowered his voice to pure velvet. Coaxing her. Needing her to know she’d give him whatever he wanted from her. He watched his thick cock moving in and out of her. Disappearing into her body. It was sensual. Sexy. Dirty as hell when he was big and she was small and her body had to stretch for him. That just added to his power trip, his need to dominate, the rush the stripes on her thighs and ass gave him. Her willing sacrifice. “One more time,” he pushed. “Tell me what you need. Say it, baby.”

“I can’t.”

He was pushing her too hard. She’d given him so much already, and she had to be confused. He fucking loved her with every breath he drew. He raked his nails down those stripes and instantly felt the flood of liquid heat surrounding his cock. Fiery hot. Her body coiled tight. Seychelle giving herself to him.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ll always have you.” He whispered the reassurance even as his hips surged into her over and over, driving her body forward with every forceful assault of his cock.

Once more he changed his angle, hitting her sweet spot, his finger on her clit, pushing her over the edge again, feeling her body clamp down on his cock like a fucking vise. His cock jerked hard—so hard it was painful. The scars stretched beyond limits, and still his cock jerked and pulsed, his spine bending, his legs shaking, as pleasure unlike anything he’d ever experienced shot through his entire system.

He felt as if lava were boiling in his balls, readying to blow from a volcano too long held suppressed. There was a madness rising in him, and for those few moments, with his release roaring through him, Seychelle forcing every last drop from his body, milking his cock with a determined ferocity, insanity reverberated through his mind. He lost every memory of the past of anything or anyone who had come before her. There was only this beauty. This madness. This agony and ecstasy. There was only Seychelle.

He had no idea of the passage of time or how long he lay over the top of her, soaring, flying higher than he’d ever been. His blood thundering in his ears so he couldn’t hear anything but the reassuring sound of his wild heart competing with hers. It took a while for the blackness to recede from around his vision. For air to find its way back to his body.


Tags: Christine Feehan Torpedo Ink Romance