Prideful Savage (A Warrior's Redemption #1) - Miranda Bridges Page 0,29

not my own but his.

He thrusts his fingers into my sex, and at the same time something soft yet textured sweeps my clit. I jerk up my head to witness Bravik rubbing the base of one of his horns against me. Maybe it’s because the act is animalistic, or it could be that he’s gripped his cock, but either way, the sight of him doing both those things sets me off. I grab the tip of his horn, and he immediately lets me set the pace by following my nonverbal instructions as I jerk it up and down. It’s hot and slightly textured against my clit, the perfect combination to send me soaring into bliss.

With his name on my lips, my orgasm hits me, and all the while I watch him stroke himself. The angular lines on his face are sharp and pronounced as he fists his cock, the towel no longer prohibiting my view. His breath escapes him in a hiss, and a muscle in his jaw flexes, showcasing his building pleasure. The sight of him like this makes me come all the harder. And he joins me the second I release my hold on him and his gaze finds mine.

My breasts heave with my ragged breaths, and I struggle to remain upright, but I refuse to miss seeing him orgasm. I keep my focus on his cock, taking in every pulse, every jerk, until Bravik is spent. With his muscles taut, he slowly crawls the length of my body and settles himself between my thighs. Then he drops his head and lightly rests his forehead to mine.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his words thin with fatigue. “You look fine, but I want to hear it from your mouth.”

“I’m a little tired.”

He pulls back and takes my chin in a firm grip. His gaze, bright with lust just a moment ago, is now clouded with worry as it roves over my face. I smile up at him to offer reassurance, but the truth is I’m more than exhausted. However, that’s not due to some strange aftereffect from Bravik; it’s because my orgasm wrecked me and I’m satiated sexually. The things he did to me brought me to a place I’d never been, and I experienced pleasure like no other. So this lethargy is wonderful, as is the feel of our bodies molded together. With his semihard cock pressed against the softness of my thigh, and the heat of him seeping into me, I’m not sure whether to sleep or try and seduce him.

“You do not seem drained,” he says. His brow furrows, and his lips thin. “Your skin has not taken on a sickly pallor, nor do you look near death.”

“What?!”

I jerk my chin from his hold, but he just grips it once more. Then he narrows his gaze as though I’m the one who’s done something offensive when he alluded to something that’s akin to murder. I might be tired, but I didn’t imagine him saying death.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask.

It’s an effort to keep my voice calm, but somehow I manage. It could have something to do with how he’s glaring at me. I’m not scared of him like I was before, but that doesn’t mean I want to piss him off. I need information, and hopefully I don’t have to shoot him to get it. The lump of metal still rests underneath the pillow, and I’d all but forgotten it because of Bravik, but when he releases me, I lie down fully, instantly comforted by the weapon’s presence.

He studies me for a moment, and during those seconds, his gaze shutters, becoming guarded. “The Incarus have been known to harm a casual bedmate by siphoning too much sexual energy from time to time.”

I raise a brow, silently prompting him to continue. With bated breath I wait to see what his next words are, and it’s exceedingly difficult to concentrate when his cock hardens against my thigh. However, the threat of being killed prevents me from executing any type of seduction. It doesn’t quite relieve my desire for Bravik, but I’ll take whatever progress I can get.

His silence is telling, much more so than he might suspect. So I mentally brace myself for what he’s about to reveal, and I hope it’s the truth. I can’t picture him lying to spare my feelings, but I wouldn’t put it past him to do so if he thought it could help him in the long run,