Dark Savior: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (26 page)

“Oh,” I exclaim. “I like this!”

The tattoo appears to be some kind of snake or dragon, or something in between. The creature is coiling across his right pelvis, decorating an impressive set of muscles. I follow the black lines with the tip of my finger as if I was caressing the snake’s scales.

His entire upper body is solid and strong, as if he was wearing permanent armor. I cannot help but notice the many scars that grace his slightly tan skin.

My hands look like they belong to a pale child when I place them against his buff chest, gently running along the trenches created by his muscles.

He lets it happen, but reaches for my chin, holding it in a strong grip between his index finger and his thumb when he tilts my head back and my eyes up to him.

“Now, answer me,” he whispers. “Can I take your delicious little body like I need it?”

“What does that mean?” I breathe, although I am beginning to get an understanding of what he might be talking about. He is not gentle, not careful. He is a man who knows what he wants and he will take it just like that.

“Rough,” he says, not much to my surprise. “Rough, wild, relentless.”

His words send a shiver down my spine—and to other places, I might add. I like his assertiveness. It is not only flattering to be wanted like this, but also very, very enticing.

“Yes,” I hiss, emphasizing the S as if I was impersonating the sexy snake on his pelvis. “Yes, please take me.”

And so he does.

I cannot suppress a girlish shriek when he darts forward, pushing me on my back on the bed and placing himself on top of me, now pinning me down with the weight of his body instead of just his eyes.

His lips are on mine within seconds, claiming me with unknown force. I start writhing beneath him, but can hardly move, because he keeps me in place with his entire being. He is so big and strong—it’s incredibly sexy.

I can feel the effect I have on him pressing against my upper leg. My arms rise up to embrace him, but he quickly grabs my wrists and pushes them down on the mattress above my head. I am completely at his mercy. He pins down both my arms with one hand while his other traces along the side of my body, exploring every curve and every edge.

I quiver when he reaches the hem of my dress and starts pushing it up. His motion is so intrusive, but yet so welcome. His hand wanders further up, soon reaching my hip beneath the dress. I moan, even though his hand is still nowhere near my center. His touch is electric, so strong but yet so sensual.

Soon, his skillful fingers find the hem of my pantyhose and pull them down, together with the thong that I am wearing beneath. It comes as a natural instinct for me to protest, and I find myself closing my legs and trying to roll my body to the side, which is a futile effort because he has me in a tight lock.

“No!” he protests, pushing me back in place.

He leans over me, his face so close to mine that our noses almost touch.

“I have to get a taste of you,” he hisses. “You know that, right?”

I stare up at him with wide eyes, feeling the heat as my cheeks blush in embarrassment. He looks at me with expectation.

I nod in silence, as if I was giving him official permission to go on. He groans, sounding deeply satisfied as he moves lower, pulling down my pantyhose and my thong until I lay beneath him with my lower body exposed, only covered by the dress that I helplessly pull down to cover my nakedness.

He pushes my hands aside and casts me an evil smile.

“Cute,” he says, before he undoes my attempts and pushes my dress up. I close my eyes, confused and embarrassed about my arousal. I am sure he can tell, and if not, he will be able to tell as soon as he puts his hands where I think he is headed.

“Beautiful,” he comments, stroking along the inner side of my thighs, pushing my legs apart. “I must taste you.”

I moan and squirm when he leans forward, now following the same path that his hands have taken before with his tongue until he reaches my center. He pauses, and I know he is looking up to me, observing my reactions, but I don’t dare to look at him and keep my eyes closed.

A deeply contented groan accompanies his motions as he moves closer to my center, running along the outer edge of my labia before he closes in on my entrance.

I shriek with pleasure and arch my back when his tongue finds my clit. He draws little circles around it at first, before he starts sucking on it, starting with gentle pressure until his motions become more greedy.

“Oh my God…,” I exclaim, breathing desperately and spreading my legs even further, inviting him in. I hear a little chuckle coming from his side but he doesn’t stop for even a moment. He is so into it, so attentive and hungry for me. It feels as if he feeding on my pleasure, only wanting to please me even more with every minute that passes.

I can feel my climax approaching. Too soon.

“I am going to come!” I say. It was supposed to be a warning for him to stop, but instead I hear an approving groan.

“Do,” he urges. “I want you to!”

I heave a deep sigh when he intensifies his efforts. It feels too good, too intense. My pleasure increases with every twist of his skillful tongue, driving me insane as waves of bliss travel through my core.

He sends me over the edge by adding a finger, pushed inside of me while he presses down on my mound with the other hand.

The sensation is too much. A blinding thrill takes a hold of me when my orgasm unfolds. I squirm and arch, pushed in place by his strong hands while his tongue continues to prolong my overwhelming release.

My head is spinning. Confused and disoriented, I am floating in the aftermath of what just happened, while he withdraws his hands and straightens up.

“Look at me,” he orders as he gets up from the bed, fiddling with his belt and opening his pants. “Look at the man who did this to you,” he adds, his dark gaze on me while he continues to get undressed.

I dizzily lift my head. He is standing in front of me, bare chested and looking utterly delicious as his pants slide down his slim waist. The bulge beneath his black boxer briefs reveals that I’m not the only one who is enjoying herself.

“Get out of your dress,” he orders. “I need to see all of you.”

I clumsily get up from my lying position and climb down from the bed, my legs shaking like those of a newborn deer. He watches while I peel myself out of my dress, still shy about his eyes on me even after what just happened a few moments before.

He hums with approval when I stand before him completely naked.

“On your knees,” his next command follows.

I do as I am told and kneel before him, my eyes on the impressive bulge that is now in front of my face.

He takes a step forward, decreasing the distance between us and places a hand at the back of my head. “Take it out.”

I hook my index fingers under the hem of his boxer briefs and slowly pull them down until his erection springs free and they fall to the ground. He is rock hard and his cock is a sight just as pleasant as the entire man himself.

I don’t wait for his next command, but follow my own instincts when I open my mouth and lean forward to take him between my lips. He has had his taste, now it’s time for me to get one.

He moans with pleasure, shoving his hips forward slightly while I suck on him with relish. I love his taste, the sweetness there is to it.

I want to repay him for the wonderful pleasure he just bestowed upon me, but he doesn’t let me. After just a few moments, he pulls my head back by the hair.

“Greedy girl,” he whispers, and before I can reply anything, he leans forward and forces me back up on my feet. I am barely standing when he lifts me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing.

The shriek I let out when he suddenly throws me back on the bed is a mixture of surprise and joy. I like being handled like this, and he manages to add a certain sweetness to his assertive behavior.

“I will fuck you now,” he promises while pulling a condom over his erected length. “And I won’t stop until you come again.”

“I won’t argue with that,” I whisper, smirking at him.

“Brat,” he exclaims, before he climbs back on the bed and grabs me by the hips, pulling me closer to him.

He teases my entrance with the tip of his member, watching my reactions as he does. His hands are still on my hips, his thumbs now caressing the soft skin on my pelvis while I squirm beneath him.

I want him inside of me and when he finally shoves forward, spreading me with his impressive girth, I let out a thankful moan.

He starts slowly, but only the first few thrusts are gentle like this, his motions soon turn to be more aggressive and soon I find myself shoved back and forth with brute force as he takes me like he promised, wild and relentlessly.

I bend my knees, trying to support myself, but his movements are so strong and so overwhelming that I don’t stand a chance. He feels divine inside of me and I love seeing his strong arm muscles flex while he fills me.

We are perfectly in sync, following a rhythm that I’ve found hard to achieve with other men. With him, everything clicks into place at once, without any pressure. He shifts me a little, lifting my hip and forcing me to arch my back even more. This change in position causes a new stimulation, slowly but surely announcing my next release.

He notices and casts me a triumphant smile. Shortly after, I can feel his finger on my clit again, teasing my most sensitive spot in order to make me come.

I groan with pleasure, giving in to him with all I have.

“Tell me when you’re about to come,” he hisses. His voice is dark and has a daunting tone to it, mixed with his out-of-breath excitement.

He puts more pressure on my nub, hitting just the right spot. I arch my back, heaving from the mattress when a sudden sting of bliss takes over my entire being. This climax is just as his way of fucking, relentless, brute and overpowering.

“I’m c—”, I breathe in between bewildering waves of pleasure.

A deep groan followed by a few extra deep and slow thrusts reveals his own release. He closes his eyes and throws his head back, while his own climax takes over and our joint moans fill the room.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mars

There are two things that annoy me when I wake up the next morning.

The first is that she didn’t reveal anything. I fucked her into oblivion, giving everything I have. No woman has ever squirmed and moaned beneath me as she has last night. She was drunk with bliss, losing her mind orgasm after orgasm.

It was part of the plan. I wanted her in that state, pleased, relaxed and vulnerable. But I fucking enjoyed it more than I should have. She made it easy to be this way, to fuck her like no other. It was as she was molded to fit my touch, my body, my needs.

I can’t get my head around the way I clicked with this girl. My witness, for God’s sake.

Though she doesn’t know it. She actually seems to have no fucking clue. Even in her fogged post coital state, when she was lying next to me, trying to process the aftermath in my arms, she didn’t open up one bit. I was careful when I asked my questions, when I tried to get close to her, get into what might work in her unreadable mind.

But maybe I was kidding myself. Maybe this was just an excuse for me to have her the way I did last night.

I’m a fucking fool for not eliminating her when I could have. I curse my past self for not pulling the trigger that night. All of this would not be an issue if I had.

But I also wouldn’t have had last night.

That way we clicked.

It was insane.

The second thing that annoys the hell out of me is that she is still here.

I woke up next to her. She is curled up to the side with her naked back to me, hugging the sheets as if she was trying to protect herself from me—as she damn well should.

I don’t know how to handle this. It has been years since I woke up next to a woman, and even then I never liked it.

Though, in this case it’s not the girl herself who annoys me. I can feel the warmth of her small body next to me. She is breathing calmly, her dainty body heaving slightly beneath the sheets, her face hidden by that massive hair of hers. There is a serenity radiating from her that I have never experienced with anyone else before.

Her presence feels comfortable. Right.

She is as soothing as that melody I tend to whistle to myself.

That’s what annoys me.

My last and only witness is lying next to me in bed. Naked, satisfied—and probably about to fall for me if I judged her pleasure drunken eyes from last night correctly.

What the fuck am I doing?

I should silence her, once and for all. So what if she didn’t talk yesterday? She might still remember at some point.

I cannot risk that. She is the last person that stands between me and my new life.

My phone buzzes from the other side of the room, causing her to wake up and sleepily roll around to me, while I hurry to get up and fetch it.

Her sleepy eyes are on me, while I check my message to see who wants to reach me this early in the morning. Just like her, I am not wearing any clothes and I am well aware of her eyes traveling down my sculptured body until they rest on my morning wood.