Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
What the fuck is going on?
She keeps going, and suddenly those grunts turn into a frustrated cry before a broken “fuck!” sounds through my apartment. Is she struggling to come? That couldn’t be right. The woman I met last week was so confident and outgoing. She knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. She didn’t strike me as the type who couldn’t even get herself off.
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. The universe really is on my side tonight.
I’m left with no choice. I’m going to have to go over there and put out the fire she started. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer my services to a woman in need?
Another frustrated noise reaches me, followed by what sounds suspiciously like her throwing something hard across the room, and I find myself grinning like a complete asshole. I can only imagine what she’d say if she knew I could hear her award-winning performance. Though I suppose this isn’t award-winning after all.
I give her a second, waiting to see if she can somehow pull through the wreckage, but when a whimper sounds, I find myself slowly creeping toward my door.
This is a terrible idea. Possibly lethal.
So why the fuck do I all but throw myself out into the hallway and skip toward her apartment like a fucking school girl?
Standing right outside her door, Lyra’s little sex noises are much clearer, and so is her shattering disappointment. She’s not doing well in there, and judging by the sheer lack of commitment, it sounds as though she’s about to give up.
Poor Savage.
I take her door handle, feeling as though I should be wearing a cape, and slowly twist before grinning. A pretty girl living all alone in a city with killers on the loose should know better than to not lock her door. She’s basically inviting me in.
I slip inside without a sound before shutting the door softly behind me. Her apartment is dim except for soft light spilling from the partially open bedroom door down the hall, and I start walking, now able to hear the subtle sounds of her mattress beneath her, soft breaths ripping from her chest, and more importantly, the gentle buzz of her useless vibrator.
Reaching her bedroom in only six steps, I lean one shoulder against the doorframe and take her in.
Lyra is spread across dark sheets in an oversized shirt, her hair sprawled across her pillow as she lays back with her eyes closed. There’s a pinch of deep concentration between her brows as she holds her blood-red vibrator between her creamy thighs. She’s breathtaking.
I clear my throat.
Lyra’s eyes spring open, and her entire body jerks as she clocks me in the doorway. “What the fuck?” she screeches, slamming her thighs together as she scrambles to her knees, the oversized shirt covering right to her knees.
She launches the red vibrator at my head, and I catch it with ease, looking over it and noting the wetness around its still-vibrating head and having to resist the urge to lick it clean. “What’s wrong, Savage? Can’t get there on your own?”
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.”
“Oh, please, Savage. You don’t know how badly I’d beg you to try.”
She springs from the bed and launches at me, fury blazing across that pretty face. Reaching me in seconds, her hands fly toward my throat, but I evade her easily, catching her wrists and sweeping them aside before turning us sharply and pinning her against the wall. My hand settles around her throat while my body cages hers in place, holding her there as those wild green eyes burn into mine.
Her chest heaves. “What do you—”
“Uh-uh,” I say, shaking my head as my other hand reaches down, my fingers gently brushing her inner thigh. “You’re frustrated. You can’t let go.”
She breathes heavily as I slowly trail my fingers higher, but the fact she doesn’t even attempt to push me away tells me exactly what she’s been picturing these past twenty minutes.
“I can leave right now, or I can give you what your vibrator can’t.”
“I don’t need you.”
My hand closes around her pussy, cupping tightly and her knees buckle beneath her. “You’ve been fighting with yourself for twenty minutes, Savage. The whole fucking building can hear you not coming.”
She just stares, and I adjust my hold between her thighs, two thick fingers sliding straight inside her soaking cunt, and she whimpers. Instead of pushing me away, her hand braces against my chest and fists my shirt. “Oh fuck.”
My fingers start to move deep inside her, and she gasps sharply. “What’s it gonna be? I can leave right now, or I can fuck you until you shatter over every inch of this apartment.”
Her pussy grinds down against my hand, greedily taking more as she tightens her grasp in my shirt, pulling me impossibly closer.