Savage Love (Savage Trilogy #3) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,11

in a hell yeah moment, my arm catches her waist, and she’s got my cock in her hand, guiding me into all that wet, tight heat between those beautiful thighs. Nice and slow, she’s sliding down the length of me until she’s settling all sweet and right, against my hips.

“Do you miss my tongue?” I ask, cupping her pretty little ass, and rocking my hips.

“Only because you’re not kissing me,” she murmurs breathlessly and damn I really love it when she’s breathless.

I catch her head and pull her mouth close. “A kiss for now but my tongue has other ideas for you and soon.”

She leans into me, claiming my mouth, and I don’t deny either of us the adrenaline rush of the kiss that follows. I squeeze her backside and give her a hard smack, just the way she likes it. She yelps and bites my lip, a hard pinch that turns me the fuck on. I catch those long silky strands of her hair and give them just enough of a pull for her to feel it. We’re back to that wild push and pull between us, and she rocks into me with a hard shove. She wants me on my back. It would be easy to place her on her back or her stomach. To take her, to touch her, to turn her inside out, but I don’t do any of those things. I give her what she wants, me on my back, her in control. Because this really is about what she wants and needs. And tonight, she needs control. I think she needs it often with me, at least right now. At least until she’s over the way I took that control by leaving. I don’t revel in the way I’m going to be forced to take her control again tomorrow when we battle over the party.

I’m barely pressed to the mattress, and she’s straddling me, beautiful as hell on top of me; her long silky hair wild around her shoulders, strands teasing her perky pink nipples. Her lips roughed up from my kisses, eyes heavy with desire. It’s all I can do not to turn her over, and hold onto her, capture her beneath me. She leans over me and into me, kissing me and my hand flattens on her lower back, pressing her hips into my hips. She arches into me, sways and strokes my cock, left and right, up and down. And when she sits up, riding me with abandon, it’s not me that owns her—it’s her that owns me. Watching her, feeling her, is fire and adrenaline. Both of which magnify by ten when she leans forward again and gives me this sultry, I’m-so-damn-in-lust-and-love-with-you look, that every man should want to experience.

Now, I roll her over. I can’t fucking help it. I pin her arms over her head and I press my cheek to her cheek, my lips at her ear. “I am so damn in love with you, woman.”

“Prove it,” she challenges her breath warm on my lips.

There’s something hidden in that challenge, something dark and emotional that has me withdrawing just enough to study her face. “How?”

“Trust me. Really trust me.”

My lips lower to her lips, my breath a warm hiss on her lips as I say, “I wouldn’t be here now, if that wasn’t where I am and where we are, Candace. Done, but you have to give what you get.”

“Done,” she whispers.

We’re still there, naked, bodies connected intimately lingering in those next few seconds that feel like minutes before we’re drinking each other in with our hands and mouths. Until she bucks beneath me and I thrust into her, and somehow our bodies are a sultry sway and a dirty grind, all at once. I don’t know when I release her hands, or how her arms wrap my neck but when she cries out my name and whimpers, I’m lost in her— in her soft sounds, in her trembling body, in her taste and smell. I shudder, hard and far too fast, with my release.

A long time later, I pull a blanket over our naked bodies and Candace snuggles close to me. We don’t talk. We just lay there, holding each other. Almost as if we both know there’s a battle we still have to fight, one about the other man in her life, the one she’s engaged to, who isn’t me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Candace

I wake to the light of a new day peeking through a crack in the hotel