Page 24 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

24

POLARIS

T he room flies past me in a blur, only coming to a slight stop when we reach the security men standing at the bottom of the VIP staircase. The rope is dropped before we even reach them, a simple nod aimed Asher’s way as we pass, then we’re climbing the stairs two at a time.

I scramble to keep up with him, his hold on my hand deathly tight and his strides measured.

As we reach the top, I glance back at the stairs that could lead me back to safety, back to our friends and the celebration, but it’s taken away from me a moment later when Asher tugs on a rope, letting the velvet curtain draw over the entryway.

His hold on my hand is suddenly gone and he strides away from me as I stand frozen in place, watching his every move.

Not like a predator watching their prey.

No.

Far from it.

More like the prey watching their predator.

The music still thrums beneath my feet, but it’s quiet enough to at least hear myself think. Not that I can do much of that when I’m teetering on the edge, uncertainty and desire plaguing me.

From where I’m standing, I can just about see over the edge of the wrought-iron balcony to my right, and I have a clear visual of the entire VIP area; every seat, every table, every glass, every bottle. Except… there’s not a single other person up here.

Just Asher and me.

Fuck.

As if sensing my acknowledgment of our isolation from everyone else, he glances back over his shoulder with his hands braced on the bar area at the opposite end of the room.

Even from this distance I can see the storm warring in his eyes, and I’m somehow centered in it.

Rocking back on my heels, I clear my throat. “Asher?”

He grunts. Fucking grunts, and why is it so feral yet… delectable?

It makes my thighs clench, my skin tingle, and my breath fall even more labored.

I’ve been in the presence of this man plenty of times since arriving at Trinity Falls Academy, but truly capturing his attention like this is something else entirely.

His hands ball into fists on the bar top, his knuckles growing as white as his hair, and I gulp.

Again.

I lace my fingers in front of me as my head dips forward, shying away from his intense gaze, and the vibrations of his footsteps approaching come seconds later. His fingertip slips under my chin, forcing my head back so my gaze finds his. The swirl of his blue and green marbled eyes is even more exquisite this close, even if they are fired by what looks like irritation.

Slowly, his hand drops from my chin, but his fingers linger around my face as he curls my hair behind my ears, refusing to leave a strand behind. The touch is delicate, the air is thick.

“The next time you hide behind your hair, I’m going to curl it around my fist and pull it back off your face.”

Hot damn.

My mouth dries as his words stall my thundering heart, and all I can do is gape at him. As if testing his words, he inches closer, running his hand over my shoulder and down my back to toy with the ends of my hair.

Fuck . I should just flick it forward on purpose and see if he will follow through. Even if there’s no desire in his threat and I’m reading it wrong, I’m still more inclined to find out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he breathes, eyes blazing into mine.

My lips part, ready to explain that this is actually all him when he’s gone again. My body misses his touch as he storms across the room, fingers raking through his hair as he approaches the bar again. This time he doesn’t stop, though, he circles the wooden top and reaches for a bottle of liquor.

He places it down on the bar top with a little more force than I expect before placing two shot glasses beside it. He doesn’t move, though. He just stares at it all.

My lips purse as I take a tentative step toward him, nerves threatening to get the better of me. I feel even more out of my depth than I usually do.

“Do you need me to leave?” I finally ask, the words heavy on my tongue as his gaze snaps to mine.

“I need you to stay the fuck here,” he grunts, palms flat on the bar as he eyes me.

My eyebrows gather, confusion getting the better of me. The rapid pace at which he wavers between hot and cold is almost too much to bear. As hot as he is, I can’t just stand here while he… does what, exactly?

Clearing my throat, I stand taller. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m?—”

“It’s you,” he snaps, brows furrowed as he glares at me.

I lift my hands in surrender, gaping at him as my caution levels rise. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing, but?—”

“You make me feral,” he continues, interrupting me as his fists hit the bar with a thud, and I gulp, my thighs clenching for the hundredth time tonight.

“Interrupt me again and I’ll turn feral,” I bite back, irritation swirling with the desire that seeps through my body. If I intended to put him in his place with my words, I fail miserably as his eyes darken and a salacious grin spreads across his lips.

He pushes up slowly, the liquor forgotten as he takes calculated steps toward me, taking his sweet-ass time as his gaze rakes over me from head to toe before he repeats the process.

“I don’t have time for a woman.”

Step.

“I don’t have the luxury of indulging in a distraction.”

Step.

“I don’t have any reason to consider getting caught up in the chaos that surrounds you.”

Step.

“But you.”

Step.

“In that fucking dress.”

Step.

“Hiding behind your hair.”

Step.

“Is enough to make any man fall victim to your siren call.”

Step.

We stand toe to toe, and for the first time tonight, he keeps his hands to himself.

I don’t like it.

His chest heaves in tandem with mine, tension coiling around us as if the world doesn’t exist past this moment between us.

“I don’t have time for men. I don’t have the luxury of indulging in a distraction. I don’t have time to worry myself over a bunch of wolves when I barely even know how to be a witch. But you, with those fucking eyes, is enough to make me fall victim to you and your brothers again.”

My pulse rings in my ears, the air static, when he takes a step back, taking a piece of my heart with him.

His tongue swoops over his bottom lip as he crooks a finger, but I don’t move.

“I have rules,” he starts, reaching for the first button on his shirt. “You do as I say and I’ll give you what you want.”

My head tilts to the side. “And what is it I want?”

“Me.”

I shake my head, finally taking a step toward him, but only one. “How about you do what I say and I’ll give you what you want.”

He snickers, undoing the second button of his shirt as he shakes his head at me. “And what is it you think I want?”

It’s a game, this is all a fucking game, and I’m locked in, all my cards on the table.

“Me.”

His eyes darken, revealing the truth in my one-word statement. “Oh, I’m going to have you, Silver. I’m going to have you every way I want you. I already know.” His fingers wrap around the third and final button, and the neckline falls open, making my mouth dry with need.

“You already know?” I repeat, scrambling to gain control of the situation, but it’s sifting through my hands with every passing second.

He nods before reaching a hand back over his head and tugging his polo off. It shouldn’t look that good when he does it, but the way his muscles coil and reveal his abs… damn, it’s impossible not to be impressed. He discards the fabric with no care as he takes a step toward me, heat dancing in his eyes.

“I knew it the moment your hand was in mine. I tested it when it was your waist in my grasp. I confirmed it when I felt your tight nipple through the material of your dress. I’ve played it out a thousand times in my head since we got up here, and I’m ready to execute my plan.” He kicks his shoes off, reaching for the button on his jeans before edging closer to me once again.

“Plan?” It’s the only word I can manage.

Coming to a stop in front of me, he leans forward so we’re eye to eye, nose to nose, and I shiver.

“Wylder claimed your first orgasm. Lincoln took your virginity. Tatum seems to hold something close to your heart, but me, Polaris, I’m going to dominate you.”

My face burns at his words, but the sensation cascades over my whole body as his lips crash against mine.

He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once.

His fingers are in my hair, tugging at the ends as promised. His other hand is slipping the spaghetti straps of my dress down my arms, allowing the material to pool at my feet, but I don’t shiver against the cold. He’s got me so worked up I’m on the verge of self-combusting.

Then he’s gone.

I pry my eyes open, completely confused over the fact that they were closed to begin with, to see him practically vibrating. His hands are coiled at his sides, his veins protruding with restraint as his eyes shimmer with something I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Give me a word, Polaris.”

“A word?” I repeat in confusion.

“Any. Fucking. Word,” he retorts, barely holding himself together as I stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know… wolf?”

Silence stretches between us, it feels like an eternity, so long that panic starts to kick in, when his head falls back and a laugh parts his lips.

“Perfect. Ironic, but perfect,” he states, righting himself as he unzips his jeans and tugs them off along with his underwear, until he’s standing completely naked in front of me. My eyes dart to the balcony opening.

Can anyone see him from down there?

Can anyone see me from down there?

I glance down at the length of my body, quickly realizing we’re in public and I’m down to my bra and panties. As if sensing my thoughts, he reaches out, ripping my panties with ease before tugging at my bra until it snaps and the material flutters into nothing at my feet.

My face burns, excitement and disbelief coursing through my veins. “You do realize anyone could see us, right? Anyone could come up here and… and…”

“What’s the word, Polaris?” he asks, ignoring my panic, and I sigh.

“It’s wolf, but?—”

“Good. You say that if you want me to stop.” He reaches for my waist in the next breath, lifting me off my feet as he brings me in close so we’re chest to chest, and my legs instinctively wrap around his middle.

I groan at the feel of him everywhere as his mouth claims mine.

My hands dive into his hair as his fingertips leave impressions on my skin wherever he goes. I don’t know where he ends and I begin, or vice versa. All I know is I need more.

It’s like he can read my mind because a breath later we’re moving, thankfully not toward the balcony edge but to the bar. The cool wood beneath me makes me shiver, and when I relax my legs from around his waist, he stands tall, looking down at me laid out for him.

He trails his fingers down my face, over my collarbone, down between the valley of my breasts, before circling my belly button. My core clenches, a soft moan slipping from my lips, and he grins victoriously.

“Oh the things I’m going to do,” he breathes before crouching and swiping his tongue through my folds.

My back arches up off the table, another moan parting my lips as he swirls his tongue around my clit once before feasting on me like a man starved. He nips, he growls, he licks, he teases, leaving me a nervous wreck of taut need. Writhing at his touch, I try to grab on to something, but it’s impossible, my only option is his hair.

The second I tug at the ends he becomes feral, all but bending me in half as he holds my thighs toward my chest and sinks his teeth into my clit.

I scream, my orgasm tearing through my limbs as I struggle to breathe. When he’s completely wrung my body dry, he stands over me again, the victorious grin still on his lips, only now, they glisten with my release.

“Asher,” I rasp, asking for what, I don’t know, but a moment later, his hands are on my waist, pulling me to my feet again.

It takes me a moment to gain my balance, and it feels surreal, turning around so my bare chest is pressed against his as we breathe each other in.

His eyes turn darker, something I didn’t think possible, but it signifies the moment before he spins me on the spot. My fingers splay across the wooden top, desperate to brace myself as he tips my hips up, offering my ass to him.

Gasping for breath, the anticipation getting the better of me, I peer over my shoulder at him just as he reaches for the bottle of liquor off to the side. He tears the lid off, and before I realize what he’s doing I feel the cool liquid run down my back, followed swiftly by the press of his tongue.

My body clenches from head to toe and my breath lodges in my chest as he does it again. This time, he waits until it runs down between the globes of my ass before he swipes his tongue after the taste.

Holy fuck.

The bottle slams on the bar beside me and I feel the full length of his body press against mine as he does. The outline of his cock nestles against my skin, fueling the fire burning through my bones, and he quickly works the tip to my entrance.

I freeze as I feel the press of him inching inside. “Condom,” I rasp, glancing back at him, and he shakes his head. “Asher, condom,” I repeat, and his eyes find mine as he runs his hands over my sides.

“No.”

“Asher,” I gasp, but I don’t move. It’s a stare off, and I’m locked in. He nudges another inch inside of me, and I gasp. “Asher,” I repeat, and he tilts his head.

“Say the word.”

I run my tongue over my dry lips, watching him, and when I don’t say it immediately, he takes another inch, forcing me to suck in a breath.

“Asher.” His name is barely more than a whisper on my lips.

“Say the word, Polaris,” he repeats, giving me an out again, but I can’t find the strength. I don’t want to find the strength.

Instead, I surprise us both and thrust my hips back, taking him all the way to the hilt. I watch in awe as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his face tilting up toward the ceiling as his jaw falls slack.

I want to see that face again and again and again.

My pussy flexes around him, attempting to adjust to his length, but it’s impossible, and I need more. Retreating, his hands tighten at my waist, ready to stop me, but I only make it halfway before I impale myself on him again.

“Fuck, Silver,” he bites, his fingers snagging at my hair as he holds me in position, retaking the invisible reins between us. He solidifies it with three strong thrusts, making me collapse against the bar, unable to keep myself steady. “That’s it, bend for me. Give me everything,” he growls, pulling me up so my back is flat against his chest, and with him still inside me, he spins us around so we’re looking toward the balcony.

I know what’s coming before he even moves, and his name tumbles from my lips. “Asher.”

“Say the word.” It’s his only response, one that he lets linger for five seconds before he’s moving, taking my silence as confirmation.

I silently thank the heavens for the fact that the balcony is chest high on me and impossible to see through. My hands wrap around the top as I look down at the crowd. The music is a little louder here, the floor vibrating from the bass as everyone dances below. If anyone looks up right now, they will surely see my bare chest. They’re also going to see the man looming behind me with his dick lodged deep in my pussy.

None of that matters when he runs his tongue up my throat before nipping at my ear, making me shiver as he thrusts his cock inside of me.

Fuck.

“You’re going to come on my cock now, Silver. You’re going to come on my cock for everyone to see, and you’re going to love it,” he breathes against my ear, the promise in his words far too enticing as I nod, only focused on doing exactly that.

“Asher.” His name is on my tongue again, but I still can’t decipher what I mean. He does, though.

He edges out of me, only to slam all the way home, repeating the motion in quick succession. Again, and again, and again.

He’s relentless, brutal, and so fucking intoxicating that I can barely breathe.

Tingles start in my toes as I clench around him repeatedly, the sensation tightening every muscle in my body, my impending orgasm hanging on by a thread. “Asher, oh my god, Asher, I’m going to… Holy fuck I’m going to…”

“Come. Now.”

Two words snarling from his tongue and I’m catapulting over the edge. Wave after wave crashes over my body as I succumb to his command, and his movements quickly begin to stutter as he chants my name.

“Polaris. Polaris. Fuck, Polaris.”

His cock swells inside of me, but a second before I’m sure he’s going to explode, he pulls out, painting my back instead.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Perspiration clings to every inch of me as I struggle to catch my breath, but with every inhale, realization dawns on me. My clothes are strewn everywhere, I’m coated in liquor and cum, and I’m nothing shy of a total mess for anyone to look up at and see. But then he kisses my shoulder blade and the worry evaporates.

That is until an audible slam vibrates from downstairs and the music cuts off. Shrieks of worry and panic filter through the air, making me tense up, especially when Asher does too.

“It’s The Crow. The Crow is here,” someone yells, and everyone begins to flee for the exit.

I take a step back from the balcony as Asher leans back, swiping a hand down his face.

“The Crow? Who is The Crow?” I ask, confusion weighing heavy on my shoulders, and the feeling morphs into panic when I see a group of men walk into the area from the left, each dressed in black, but one stands out among the rest.

Taller, broader, scarier, and finished off with a crow’s mask secured over his face.

Who the fuck is that?

“Asher?” I breathe, turning to find a solemn look on his face, but he does manage to meet my eyes.

“It’s my uncle.”