Page 24 of Savage Revenge (Savage Sins #1)

Jordyn

GIVE ME YOUR MONEY

Ripples of euphoria continue to float through me while Cash watches me unnervingly closely. Yet I’m trembling so hard that I’m glad he’s caging me in. Like he’s keeping me safe. From what, I’m not sure.

There’s something about Cash, an air of confidence or arrogance, that made me figure he knew his way around a pussy, even if I did think he would be a selfish lover. But I was not expecting fireworks and missiles and planets to explode from what the man can do with his fingers.

I desperately wanted to ask for his cock. The sight of it pressing against his slacks was enough to make me drool. Thick and rigid. Practically a third leg. But there was no way I was going to ask him for anything. I sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him from whatever he wanted to do, though.

It only takes a few seconds before my haze of pleasure dissipates and my mind starts spinning.

What did we just do?

What the hell is going on between us?

Are we still enemies?

Do we still hate each other?

I can’t believe I let Cash Savage finger-fuck me while he’s holding me hostage. Seriously, it’s a wonder I’m not totally certifiable. Is this a new kink I’m into?

Cash is dangerous. I need to remember that. He’s ruthless and is known for being violent.

Yet he’s also caring in a red-flag way.

He stayed with me for hours while I slept, watching over me. It’s kind of creepy, but it’s also hot in a sexy possessive way.

“That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters as he studies my face. “Pissed at myself that I missed out on that last night.”

As I stare up at him, my gaze fixated on his prickly jawline, I smile. “Yeah. You really fucked up last night. I think I forgive you now, though.”

The corners of his steel-gray eyes crinkle as he lets out a soft huff of laughter.

“Brat.” Then his expression turns serious. “How’s your head?”

Wow. Apparently, orgasms work because I haven’t noticed any pain for several minutes. If anything, it’s a damn good distraction.

“It’s better. Thank you.” My eyelids droop, and the adrenaline that raced through me moments ago is quickly morphing into satisfied exhaustion.

Cash presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. A move I wouldn’t have expected from this dangerous, rough, arrogant man, which makes it feel even more special.

“Get some more rest. I’m going tampon shopping.”

I blink at him. “You don’t have to do that. Edith and Birdie have a list I can add?—”

“No,” he says sharply, already standing and adjusting his rolled-up sleeves. “I already told you, kitten. I’m taking care of you, and unless you want your ass to be red, I suggest you don’t argue.”

Letting out a sigh, I watch until he’s halfway to the door and then a thought pops into my head.

“What about you?” I ask hesitantly.

He pauses and turns back to me, confused. “What about me?”

I bite my lip, and my gaze travels to his still-hard cock. “What about your needs? You didn’t get anything.”

It’s a challenge to tear my eyes off his dick, but I do, and when I meet his stare, he smirks. “I might be a selfish bastard, kitten. But don’t get it twisted. I got plenty out of that.” His expression sobers, and he pins me with a hard look. “For now.”

My cheeks burn, and he gives me one last look of hunger and something else. Intrigue maybe. Then, he disappears out of the bedroom, leaving me in a warm, sleepy, achy bubble.

And for the first time since waking up in this house, I’m not thinking about trying to get away from here.

My eyes drift shut, and I let out a deep breath as sleep pulls me under again.

When I slowly blink awake, the room is completely dark. I check the clock next to the bed, working out how long I slept.

It’s not uncommon for me to sleep for twelve hours or more during a migraine episode, but I hate doing it because it feels like a waste of a day. Although I guess today wasn’t a total loss. And it’s not like I have anything better to do.

Nearly midnight.

My body feels heavy as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Migraine hangovers are the worst. My head doesn’t hurt anymore, but I feel like I’ve been dead for three weeks. And I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. Not that I could’ve kept anything down if I’d tried.

I stand and stretch slowly, wincing as a cramp hits.

Of course. Nothing like a little uterus pain to top off the evening. At least I can say it’s right on schedule. I’m sure I’ll wake up in the morning to a homicide scene in my panties.

As I make my way to the bathroom, I wince at the ache between my legs. He didn’t go easy on me. Three of Cash’s thick fingers were almost too much, yet I think his cock is even bigger.

But when I turn on the light, I freeze and blink. Then blink again as I take in the sight.

Neatly lined up on the shiny marble counter are boxes. Eighteen of them. All different sizes, shapes, and brands of tampons.

I can’t help it.

I giggle. Full-on shoulders shaking laughter.

That man. He bought me tampons. And obviously had no idea what he was doing so he got everything. It’s overkill. Absolutely ridiculous. It was also weirdly thoughtful.

The memory of earlier hangs over me. His hands, his mouth, his words. The way he made me feel perfect and beautiful. How easily he made me come apart like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

Another light cramp hits, and I’m snapped back to reality. I need a shower. Maybe I’ll feel half human again after and then I can search for food.

I turn on the shower and stare at myself in the mirror as I take off his shirt and drop it to the floor. A small purple spot near my collarbone catches my attention. Is that a bite? He marked me. On purpose?

My face flushes at the thought. I shouldn’t think that’s hot.

And yet, I sigh and step under the spray, smiling like a damn fool.

Elliott wouldn’t have been able to make me feel like that.

He’s good-looking. Hot in a way that is often found on magazine covers.

It wouldn’t surprise me if he runs on a treadmill daily and does a million sit-ups to get washboard abs.

He might even do them in front of the mirror because he’s a little cocky like Cash.

There’s just something about the man that makes me think he might not care about someone else’s pleasure.

Like he would put on a perfect show to the public, but maybe behind closed doors, he wouldn’t be quite as attentive.

Not that I have any hard evidence to go on, but it’s a deep gut feeling.

Elliott isn’t a bad guy. He’s just… not Cash.

I shower quickly, avoiding my hair, then dry off and put on a clean pair of panties and another of Cash’s shirts. They’re so damn soft and comfortable; the perfect length for a nightshirt. That’s the only reason I keep wearing them.

Barefoot, I creep out of my room, surprised to find the hallway empty. I’m starting to wonder if Cash fired Caleb. Or possibly killed him. Damn, I should probably ask. I’d be the one responsible, and overall, Caleb isn’t that bad.

As I creep through the house, I wonder where Cash is. Not that it matters.

When I walk into the kitchen, Edith smiles up at me, a flicker of surprise in her deep brown eyes. “Jordyn, dear, I’m so glad to see you up. Birdie told me you haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I was starting to worry. I don’t want you withering away.”

I giggle again, something I’m not used to doing so much. I can’t help it, though. Between Edith and Birdie always feeding me, I’m pretty sure I’m up ten pounds just since coming here. Weight I do not need to be gaining.

“Food sounds wonderful, Edith.” I lean against the huge island because I know she won’t let me make my own meal even if I tried.

The older woman practically beams at me and pulls out a covered plate from the fridge. “I’m so glad. I made pasta for dinner. Is that okay?”

“Carbs, cheese, and sauce? Is that really even a question?” I ask with a grin, and she laughs as she pops the plate into the microwave.

When she pulls it out and hands it over to me, I nearly moan as the aroma of garlic and parmesan hits me.

“Cash is in the game room, dear. Go say hi.”

I nod and carry my plate through the house, not waiting to start eating as I move down a wide hall. When I reach the open doors into the enormous game room set up like a partial arcade and a partial casino, I pause, wide-eyed. Because Cash isn’t alone, and I have no pants on.

Cash is sitting at a poker table with a cigarette in one hand and cards in another, but the second he senses me, his eyes snap up.

Then three other heads turn.

Kian. Beckett. And Xander.

Heat rushes up my neck.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t realize you had company. I just came down to get some food. Edith said you were in here.”

Beckett grins first. “Hey, bombshell. Come join us.”

Kian groans, shaking his head.

Xander raises an eyebrow like he’s analyzing me.

I ignore the three men’s gazes, keeping mine trained on Cash.

He hasn’t said a word, but he’s staring at me like I’m the only one in the room. Like he can’t look away even if he wanted to.

“Do you want to play?” Cash asks, leaning back in his chair.

A grin slides over my face, and I lift a brow. “Yes. And I don’t bluff.”

His eyes glitter at me using his words. After a second, he nods and tips his head to an empty seat. “Then come play, kitten.”

I pad into the room, and Cash smacks Beckett, so I can sit beside him.

Beckett grumbles but slides to another seat, and part of me wants to sit next to Beckett just to poke the bear.

The problem is, Cash wouldn’t hesitate to spank my ass right in front of his brothers, and that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.

“Good girl. I saw that naughty glint in your eye like you were plotting to do something you shouldn’t,” he whispers slowly into my ear when I sit down. “You made the right choice, though. I’m proud of you.”