Page 114 of Savage Hearts

He hesitates. He fights himself for a split second, accustomed to not giving in. Then a small moan slips past his lips, and he surrenders.

He crushes me against his chest, buries a hand in my hair, and takes my mouth like he’s been starving for it since the day he met me.

I’m pretty sure that’s because he has.

The kiss is the most passionate and all-consuming I’ve ever experienced. It’s as if floodgates have opened wide. Like a dam has broken. He puts his whole body into it, wrapping around me and holding me painfully tight, his hands shaking, his breathing harsh. He makes desperate sounds into my mouth as he ravages it, groans of pleasure and sweet, longed-for relief.

Then he’s cradling my head in his hands and kissing me desperately all over my face as I laugh breathlessly, staggered by the force of his emotion.

That wasn’t just a kiss.

It was an opened door into his soul.

“Say it again,” he demands. “Tell me again, baby. Tell me.”

“I’m okay. I’m not hurt. I’m right here, and I’m okay.”

He falls on top of me, pressing me back against the floor and our bodies together, and kisses me again. I sink my hands into hishair and close my eyes, dizzy from his taste and how savagely my heart is pounding.

He kisses my jaw, my cheek, my neck, speaking in Russian as his lips move over my skin. Words pour out of him and onto me, baptizing me with fire.

I wrap my legs around his waist and find him hard, like I knew he would be. I grind against his erection, letting him know exactly what I want.

“You’re still healing,” he rasps, breaking away to gaze down at me with fevered eyes. “The gunshot wound. We can’t—”

The words die in his mouth when I pull my shirt over my head and fling it away.

I’m not wearing anything underneath it. His gaze on my bare breasts is as devouring as his kisses.

Breathing hard and staring up into his eyes, I whisper, “We can. We are. Right now.”

There’s no hesitation this time. He’s pure heat, speed, and physical force, a bull smashing through the starting gate.

He rises to his knees, yanks off my shoes, sweats, and panties, rips open the fly of his jeans so his hard cock springs out into his hand, then falls between my spread thighs and shoves it deep inside me.

I arch and gasp, clutching his shoulders.

He’s huge, hot, and invading, sinking all the way in with a single thrust. He covers my mouth with his, swallowing my moan of pleasure, then fucks me hard and ravenously, one hand gripping my ass, the other fisted in my hair.

He’s still completely clothed.

I’m naked and delirious beneath him. I’ve never been so naked in my life.

He breaks away from my mouth to kiss my breasts. His hot, wet mouth is heaven on my rigid nipples. The tickle of his beard raises goose bumps on my skin. He sucks hard on a nipple, then nips at it with his teeth, making me gasp again. My fingers twist in his hair.

He rises to an elbow and grips my throat. Staring deep into my eyes, he fucks me until I’m writhing and moaning his name.

“Malyutka.My little bird. My sweet angel. What have you done to me?”

His voice is raw, choked with emotion. His eyes are filled with anguish.

I climax with his hand around my throat, cutting off a scream.

He drops his head and hides his face in my neck. Shuddering, he fucks me straight through my orgasm. Then the motion of his hips falters. He releases a guttural moan.

With one final, forceful thrust, he comes inside me.

THIRTY-THREE