Page 13
Story: Savage King
You're not going to sit all night on this chair, are you?
My fingers drum on the armrest. My briefs are already driving me insane—twisting, riding up, clinging in all the wrong ways. I always sleep naked. Always. I hate feeling confined.
And this chair? It’s made for aesthetics, not comfort.
It'syourbed!
I finish the whiskey and decide that, yeah, it's my bed, and I'm not going to sleep on the fucking armchair. She invadedmybedroom.Mysanctuary. The least she can do is share the bed with me. It's big enough. And in another defiant move, I chuck my briefs.
The next morning…
Warmth. Comfort. Safety.
My mind drifts between dreams and reality, wrapped in a heat that feels almost protective, like a cocoon against the horrors of the past two days. The mattress is heaven, the comforter is just right, and the pillow cradles my head like it was made for me.
But none of it compares to the body beside me. Solid. Powerful. Giving off more heat than the comforter ever could.
I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want this dream to end. Until something thick and hard presses against my ass.
My eyes fly open.I don't recognize the room I'm in or the oversized four-panel bed. Long, wide, thick off-white curtainsare closed, not allowing a ray of light in, if there is any on the other side—I have no idea if it is day or night.
Warm light from a lamp by a comfy-looking sitting corner illuminates the room enough for me to make out a fireplace framed by bookshelves stacked floor to ceiling with leatherbound hardbacks.
That's as far as my eyes go, before reality kicks in with a vengeance. Everything comes crashing back to me, my abduction, the days of hell hanging from the ceiling, the accountant lookalike who cut my back open. All that flashes by me in the blink of an eye. Time stands still when I remember a large, fearsome, powerful man. I remember arms holding me, cradling me. Antonio! Antonio fucking DeLuna! A mobster, just like the men who abducted me.
This has to behisroom. And if this is his room, then the man in this bed must be… him!
An adrenaline surge hits me, and I jump out of bed. Unfortunately, the adrenaline rush isn't enough to keep me on my feet, and my knees buckle underneath me. My arms flail, looking for purchase, and find a long, metal rod. I grab hold of it, only to take it down with me.
"What the fuck? Scarlet?"
I can't see the bed, but I feel his presence as he rolls down it behind me. A set of feet comes into view, topped by strong calves. He bends down and reaches my field of vision. "Are you alright? What happened?"
He takes my hand to help me up, but my legs feel like those of a newborn colt. I don't have the strength to get up, not even with his help. He picks me up and deposits me back on the bed.
"Scarlet?"
Green eyes probe me. The corners are creased with concern.
Against my will, my gaze roams his body, the impossible wide set of his shoulders, hard pecs over chiseled muscles…oh shit, he's naked. Before I can stop myself, my eyes keep moving down the powerful six pack of his abdomen, and lower, toward… I swallow… a huge erection. My gaze lingers just a heartbeat too long before I force it back up, past a square jaw, with, yes, a perfect dimple in the center, up to his thick lips, which are currently carved into a sardonic, knowing smile. He knows where my eyes went. And he's enjoying it.
I try to pull together what dignity I can muster, which isn't a lot, especially not with the heat rising to my face, which I'm sure is beet red by now. "What… why am I here?"
"I brought you here last night, don't you remember?"
Finally, some part of my dignity makes a small comeback. "I do, but I mean, why am I here and not at my apartment or my father's house?"
Unperturbed about his nakedness or his erection, he sits down right next to me on the bed.I won't look, I won't look, I won't lo—shit, I just did. Fuck!
"You keep staring," he muses. "You like what you see?" He leans back, actually leans back, like a fucking king on his throne, to give me a better view.
A new wave of heat rushes to my face. "It's hard not to…" shit. I saidhard.
His lips curve in amusement. Bastard. He's enjoying this way too much. And my mind is still too jumbled to fully comprehend anything or to come up with a decent retort.
"Would you mind putting some clothes on?" I finally manage.
"I would actually." His grin deepens.
My fingers drum on the armrest. My briefs are already driving me insane—twisting, riding up, clinging in all the wrong ways. I always sleep naked. Always. I hate feeling confined.
And this chair? It’s made for aesthetics, not comfort.
It'syourbed!
I finish the whiskey and decide that, yeah, it's my bed, and I'm not going to sleep on the fucking armchair. She invadedmybedroom.Mysanctuary. The least she can do is share the bed with me. It's big enough. And in another defiant move, I chuck my briefs.
The next morning…
Warmth. Comfort. Safety.
My mind drifts between dreams and reality, wrapped in a heat that feels almost protective, like a cocoon against the horrors of the past two days. The mattress is heaven, the comforter is just right, and the pillow cradles my head like it was made for me.
But none of it compares to the body beside me. Solid. Powerful. Giving off more heat than the comforter ever could.
I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want this dream to end. Until something thick and hard presses against my ass.
My eyes fly open.I don't recognize the room I'm in or the oversized four-panel bed. Long, wide, thick off-white curtainsare closed, not allowing a ray of light in, if there is any on the other side—I have no idea if it is day or night.
Warm light from a lamp by a comfy-looking sitting corner illuminates the room enough for me to make out a fireplace framed by bookshelves stacked floor to ceiling with leatherbound hardbacks.
That's as far as my eyes go, before reality kicks in with a vengeance. Everything comes crashing back to me, my abduction, the days of hell hanging from the ceiling, the accountant lookalike who cut my back open. All that flashes by me in the blink of an eye. Time stands still when I remember a large, fearsome, powerful man. I remember arms holding me, cradling me. Antonio! Antonio fucking DeLuna! A mobster, just like the men who abducted me.
This has to behisroom. And if this is his room, then the man in this bed must be… him!
An adrenaline surge hits me, and I jump out of bed. Unfortunately, the adrenaline rush isn't enough to keep me on my feet, and my knees buckle underneath me. My arms flail, looking for purchase, and find a long, metal rod. I grab hold of it, only to take it down with me.
"What the fuck? Scarlet?"
I can't see the bed, but I feel his presence as he rolls down it behind me. A set of feet comes into view, topped by strong calves. He bends down and reaches my field of vision. "Are you alright? What happened?"
He takes my hand to help me up, but my legs feel like those of a newborn colt. I don't have the strength to get up, not even with his help. He picks me up and deposits me back on the bed.
"Scarlet?"
Green eyes probe me. The corners are creased with concern.
Against my will, my gaze roams his body, the impossible wide set of his shoulders, hard pecs over chiseled muscles…oh shit, he's naked. Before I can stop myself, my eyes keep moving down the powerful six pack of his abdomen, and lower, toward… I swallow… a huge erection. My gaze lingers just a heartbeat too long before I force it back up, past a square jaw, with, yes, a perfect dimple in the center, up to his thick lips, which are currently carved into a sardonic, knowing smile. He knows where my eyes went. And he's enjoying it.
I try to pull together what dignity I can muster, which isn't a lot, especially not with the heat rising to my face, which I'm sure is beet red by now. "What… why am I here?"
"I brought you here last night, don't you remember?"
Finally, some part of my dignity makes a small comeback. "I do, but I mean, why am I here and not at my apartment or my father's house?"
Unperturbed about his nakedness or his erection, he sits down right next to me on the bed.I won't look, I won't look, I won't lo—shit, I just did. Fuck!
"You keep staring," he muses. "You like what you see?" He leans back, actually leans back, like a fucking king on his throne, to give me a better view.
A new wave of heat rushes to my face. "It's hard not to…" shit. I saidhard.
His lips curve in amusement. Bastard. He's enjoying this way too much. And my mind is still too jumbled to fully comprehend anything or to come up with a decent retort.
"Would you mind putting some clothes on?" I finally manage.
"I would actually." His grin deepens.
Table of Contents
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