Page 31 of Savage Prince
I grip his shoulders as he carries me across the room to a couch and lowers me so my hips are tilted up on the arm. Once I’m settled, his thrusts begin again, hitting inside me at the perfect angle. I’m writhing, thrashing, moaning, and everything inside me threatens to break free when one of his hands slides between us to thumb my clit.
My scream pierces my own ears, but I don’t care who hears me, because the pleasure barreling through me is more than I can process.
I’m splintering apart. Shattering.
He doesn’t let me stop. The orgasm keeps going and so does he, pounding into me and unleashing another wave of overwhelming sensation. My voice turns hoarse, but I keep moaning like I’m some kind of wild creature, and maybe I am. This is what he does to me.
I’m completely under his control.
My body no longer belongs to me.
He owns it. Owns me.
I lose track of time, space, and every other damn thing as I embrace the intense pleasure surging through me until he finally lets loose a harsh roar and his cock pulses.
He pulls out and drops to his knees, his forehead resting on the arm of the couch between my legs, and one of his hands wraps around my calf.
I’m limp. Boneless. In this state, lying draped over a sofa with a man between my legs doesn’t faze me in the least.
A wave of exhaustion hits me and my eyes flutter shut. I’m too tired to do anything but let go.
* * *
When I awaken,warmth surrounds me. I’m cocooned in a soft, thick blanket, and there’s a weight on my lap.
I blink a few times to adjust to the dim light of the room. I’m still in the library on the small sofa. The two-way mirror is dark, and there’s a bottle of water, the expensive kind I would normally laugh at the thought of buying, resting against my stomach. Next to it, there’s a note.
That’s all I need to see to know he’s gone.
Didn’t want to leave you alone, but I had to go.
I want to see you again.
The factthat he left doesn’t bother me. Instead, I’m filled with warmth, and it’s not solely because of the fluffy blanket tucked around me.
He wants to see me again.
Why does it feel so good to know that?
Do I want to see him?
As soon as the question forms in my mind, the answer is clear.
Yes. Definitely.
I uncurl from my cocoon and rise on shaky legs, using a hand on the back of the sofa to steady myself. A small smile curves my lips when I realize my dress and stockings have been restored to their rightful place, and my shoes are waiting next to my purse.
As I slide them on, my brain latches on to one thing that’s missing from the room other than my stranger.
My panties.
I press my lips together to stifle a giggle.
Kinky son of a bitch.I have no idea why I like that so much, but I do.
As I make my way down to the valet and then drive the long miles home to downtown and my apartment, I can’t help but relive the encounter over and over.
When I finally slide into my own bed, my body feeling deliciously used, I question my sanity.
