Page 5 of Savage Possession (Savage Reign #3)

ASH

I ’ve spent three days watching these docks, but nothing has come or gone. Seventy-two hours of nothing. I could have used this time to hunt Isabella down and convince her whoever the fuck else is trying to get her into bed, is the wrong choice.

I have to laugh at that. Like I’m the better choice to anything a girl like her has lined up. She comes from high society. Her parents probably have half of the wealthiest people lined up wanting her hand in marriage.

Me? I’ve got the funds in the bank to knock them all back with surprise. Crime pays, after all, but I also have the lifestyle of a biker. In a word, my life is gritty where hers is polished.

But that kiss was as sweet as heaven.

Anyway. She's gone, and I have been given a task that needs my full attention. I can hunt her down after I wrap up my assignment.

I need to stay focused. A new designer drug has swept through New Orleans and our parish, spreading deeper into the country.

It’s marketed as a substance that won’t get you high, can’t cause an overdose, and only sharpens your senses and boosts brain power.

And to top it all off, the origin of the problem is right here in our own backyard.

Let me back up, because that brochure on Euphoria is pure bullshit. This drug kills, period. It already has. The last three bodies were college kids partying at our club, the Voodoo Lounge, just last week.

Not exactly fun times. Storm’s handling it. The one silver lining is he figured out how they’re moving the drug through town—flower boys, of all people. Smart cover. And now one of those flower boys finally cracked. Long story short, he handed over shipping dates and cargo numbers.

Which puts me here. There’s more going on, but I’m tired just thinking about the mess Euphoria has put us all in.

I pull out the crumpled piece of paper again and scan over the printed columns of information. Times, cargo numbers and company names of the shipments containing the drugs are all here. This piece of paper was definitely confidential.

I stare over the hood of my truck at the dead port.

Either this list is a decoy, or they caught the leak and switched up their delivery schedule. Makes sense—even if it pisses me off.

Shit.

I call my prez. Reaper’s gonna hate the interruption. I’ve been radio silent for three days, and for good reason. I can’t afford to lose focus. I promised Reaper I had this handled, and I damn sure mean to see it through. Besides, he’s busy officiating Storm and Emilia’s wedding.

I scrub both hands over my face. Fuck. Coming back empty-handed is not what I wanted, but it is what it is. I need a shower, food and to clear my head, anyway.

Reaper needs to know I’m switching gears. I pick up my phone right when the screen flares to life with a flash of movement across the screen.

Huh. I flip it around and blow up the image of the back alley to Arabelle’s bookstore.

After the Vultures attacked Arabelle in her bookstore, we all beefed up the security. I made sure Storm and Beast looped me in on the video feed of the bookstore and the Savage compound.

There are a few blind spots Reaper and I left so we could silently move through our own properties, but when it comes to our various business ventures, every angle is covered.

And right now I'm watching a beautiful woman with ash blonde hair in what looks like a wedding dress stare up at the back alley camera.

I crank the engine and point my truck back to Haven. It takes me less than fifteen minutes to weave through the back roads of the bayou and pull into the back alley and slam on the brakes behind a familiar motorcycle but I don't see the asshole who usually rides it.

But my attention is more on the beautiful yet shaken woman standing in my high beams.

I kill the engine and slip from the cab.

I don’t think or slow down to ask questions about her smeared mascara and torn dress. I only take her smaller frame into my arms. I don’t take another breath until I have her front pressed against my front and I can feel the erratic thump of her heartbeat against my chest.

“Isa, sweet angel.” My hands roam over her hair, her shoulders and down her body. I can’t believe she’s actually in my arms. I’m not a man who prays, but I send up my gratitude to whoever might be on my side for once.

Isa pulls back a fraction. Despite the deep shadows swallowing us both, I can see those tender blue eyes scan my face.

I don’t know what she is searching for. Anger?

Acceptance? All I know is I see fear staring back at me and my heart screams for vengeance against whoever sinned against this sweet angel.

I should ask her why she’s here, but I don't care. Not this very second. I’ll get to it, but right now I only care that she’s in my arms and came back to me for whatever reason that might be.

I pivot us toward the closest wall so I can support her back and touch more of her all at the same time.

She loops her legs around my middle. Heat from the force of our longing cocoons us and I no longer feel the bite of the evening air. I’m too lit up by having her close to me.

The second I have her against the alley door, I bury my hands in her hair and pull her mouth to mine.

She oozes sweetness and forbidden temptation. And now she’s mine and this time I am not letting her go. She can beg all she wants, but this angel is staying with me. For now and forever.

Fucking. Bliss.

Those are the only two words that enter my brain as her lips part and I pass my tongue through the welcoming slit. Our heated breaths mingle and I devour every inch of her mouth with mine.

My hands trace down her body, and I lock my arms around her as I pull her so close she couldn’t possibly slip away.

A soft moan escapes her, her breath snagging when my mouth takes her with a deeper urgency.

As my hands move lower to cup that perfect little ass through her dress, she lets out a needy whimper that grips my balls and doesn’t let them go.

My cock jolts as her body writhes against mine, every nerve in me screaming for what it craves. At last, and only with reluctance, I break the kiss. The way she lingers there for a moment longer, eyes closed, captures something deep inside me and pulls me into the magic spell she’s used on me.

She opens her eyes, and the smile she offers claims another part of my soul.

“I never wanted to love a woman. I never wanted to give my heart over to someone who could crush it. But Isabella. My sweet angel, you came back to me and I swore if you did I would never let you go. You have me sounding like some dead fucking poet, but I don’t care.

If I had a ring right now, I would put it on your finger and crash my best friend’s wedding so I could get an ‘I do’ out of you right now. ”

I wish the light out here was better. I can’t tell if the way she is biting her lips is out of dread or desire.

I press my forehead to hers and I get an answer through action, rather than words.

Her lips pepper sweetly over my nose, my cheeks and it’s all I can do not to rip her clothes off and sink into her tight channel to claim everything about her as mine when she brings her lips to mine.

It’s a soft touch that fills me with the need to possess her in every way imaginable.

Possess her kisses.

Possess her sweet soul.

And possess the smear of her virgin blood on my cock.

I want all of her.

And I want to give all of myself to her.

“Ash.” Her voice shakes but those pretty eyes laser into mine.

If she could peel back my layers and examine me piece by piece with that one look, I feel she would.

She’s been hurt and by the tears forming in her eyes, it was recent.

She wants to know who she can trust. It’s written all over her face.

I ease her down my body, her tender curves caressing over my harder body.

As her toes touch the cold pavement, I see the moment she feels my arousal.

Her lips part and I notice a heat fire up inside her that matches my own.

She dips her hands under my cut and splays her open palms over my chest. There’s an innocence about her that flares the beast inside me to life.

I want to dirty her up and make my claim of her virginity last all night long.

A single tear rolls down her perfect cheek, forcing me to pause.

I tilt her chin up with a gentleness I never knew I possessed.

“Who put those tears in your eyes? You don’t need to be afraid, sweet angel,” I murmur, lowering my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “Not of me or anything or anyone else in this world, not while I’m here to protect you. Do you understand?”

Her teeth catch her lower lip, already plump and reddened from our kiss. Her eyes glimmer with what looks like hope as our gazes lock.

Wild, wind-swept hair frames her face and abandoned long lengths fall over her shoulders and down her back. I move the unruly locks to the side and run my fingers up the back of her neck. I go deeper and the tiny moan she gives me sends another wave of heat to grip my balls.

I cup the back of her head and pull her into me. I hold her like this and say, “Talk to me.”

She hesitates for a second and I’m trying to unravel the meaning of her silence when she finally speaks in a soft voice. “I’m not scared of you. I don’t think I ever could be.”

I trace the edge of her face, glad for once, that she doesn’t know the real monster I have buried inside me.

I’ve put bodies in the ground. Ones that asked for it, but a killer is a killer no matter the excuse.

At least that is what my father said when he told me on his deathbed.

He swore up and down that men like us don’t deserve love.

And I believed him all the way up until someone above saw fit to have this angel walk into my life.

“And the tears?” I gently urge her.

I step back, keeping my hands right where they are at. And that is when I see it. The blood on her face and the bruise forming over her right cheek.