Page 28 of His Savage Vow
She walks around the desk to me and takes my hand to examine the cuts. There’s no fear in her, no hesitation. Her touch hits harder than any blow tonight. I thought after her comment following our first kiss that she’d never let herself lay a hand on me again. “Did you hit him?” she asks.
I nod.
“Is he dead?”
“He will be soon,” I assure her.
“Are you going to let me…” She trails off.
“No. I’m sending him to Don Melloni as an apology for his lost product,” I explain to her.
“Oh. That’s good I guess,” Constance replies.
“I know you’re not ready,” I say. And then I do something I haven’t done in years.
I let myself want her.
I let myself touch her.
I lift my bloody hand and cup her face.
I shouldn’t touch her.
I shouldn’t want her.
But I do.
“You make me want to be ready,” she whispers.
“And you make me want to be reckless, firefly,” I tell her honestly.
She presses her lips to my wrist and says, “Then let’s be ready and reckless together.”
When I pull her to me and kiss her this time, there’s no interruption.
Only a raging fire that completely consumes both of us.
Constance grabs the back of my neck with certainty. Like she’s made her decision and doesn’t plan to walk it back.
My hands find her waist. Her thighs. Her jaw. I kiss her like she’s my last breath. Like touching her could erase every awful thing I’ve ever done.
It can’t.
But being this close to her, someone so good, touching every inch of her, still feels like salvation.
When we eventually make it down the hall to my bedroom, the world narrows to nothing but heat. I finally lift her sexy dress over her head. She tugs my shirt off.
After that, every kiss is a promise I can’t keep. Every breath is a confession I can’t make. It’s all I can do to slow her down enough to retrieve the condom from the nightstand.
On my bed, Constance straddles my lap and her fingers twist in my hair. Her lips brush over my shoulder, then my neck while I roll on our protection before our mouths crash together. She tastes like fury and grief and desire.
I let her take control.
Because I want to see the woman beneath the fiery vengeance.
And I want her to see the man beneath the violence and blood.
I watch her ride me, frantic, desperate, until she clenches around my length. She feels like fucking heaven.
