Savannah’s fingers tighten in my hair, and she tugs my head to the side as I walk down her hallway. Her tongue flicks against my earlobe and then she bites it, causing me to groan at her boldness. I may have to change her nickname to Spicy, because she’s not all sweet I’m finding.
I make it through her bedroom door, briefly taking note of the pale, yellow walls and white eyelet and lace comforter on her bed, complimented with a slew of white-and-yellow little pillows with lace trim and silk bows.
So sweet.
So Savannah.
I walk to the end of the bed, lift a knee up to crawl on it with her still clinging to me, and then bend forward until her back hits the mattress. She releases her hold on me, laying her head back and looking up at me with hot eyes.
“I thought we were going for a ride,” she teases me, and I find I like being teased.
“Change of plans,” I tell her as I sit back on my haunches, studying her loveliness. Prior to this moment, I was trying to lump Savannah into a category based on my experiences and hurts. She was either the heroine or anti-heroine type, and now I’m not sure what she is.
She’s just something… else.
I think about what she told me last night… about the hell she went through after nearly being raped. I wonder if the horror of that moment… when she had no control over her situation, when she was clawing at her would-be rapist with a fevered desire to protect her innocence… I wonder if those memories come back to her when another man touches her.
It makes me doubt what I’m about to do to her, and my selfishness takes a back seat.
“Do you want me to do this?” I ask her hesitantly.
“It depends… what are you about to do?” she asks coyly, and without her saying another word, I can tell by the look on her face, by her shy words that are tinged with longing, that she wants whatever I give her.
But I need to make sure. Lifting my hand, I skim my fingers up her neck and wrap my hand around her throat lightly. I use my thumb to stroke her jawline for a moment, then lift my hand and trail my fingers back down her neck and to her collarbone just peeking out from her sweater. “I’m going to possess you, Sweet. I’m going to take my time doing it. I’m not going to let you up out of this bed until I’ve had my fill of you, and honestly… I’m not sure how long that will take. I’m going to control your body… make you scream… make you writhe against the bed, love. I want you to beg me for it… and only if your words are sweet enough for my ears, will I give it to you. So, I ask again… do you want me to do this?”
She never hesitates… not even for the half second it takes her to suck in air between her teeth. “God, yes.”
Her complete surrender slays me. Leaning forward, I place my hands on the bed at her shoulders and kiss her again. For the fourth time, and it’s even better. Her lips are so soft, her breath tasting of mint and sugared coffee. Her tongue is at turns bold, then shy, and as I move my mouth over hers insistently, I find it doesn’t take much for her to submit to me wholly.
Pulling back from her once again, I scoot off the bed. “You have way too many clothes on for what I have planned.”
“Better remedy that,” she says with a grin and sits up to start pulling her sweater over her head.
Placing my hand at the center of her chest, I push her back down on the bed. “Uh-uh. Let me do this. Let me unwrap you in my own way.”
She immediately lies back on the bed, bringing one hand to rest across her stomach and the other thrown over her head. She watches me with curious eyes filled with soft yearning. “Okay,” she whispers. “But will you undress first?”
“I thought I was in control,” I chastise her gently with a warning look.
“Please.”
Just one word. Please. And I give into her immediately.
Kicking my tennis shoes off, I reach down and quickly remove my socks. I’ve never stripped for a woman before… not at her request, and sadly, I find there’s no sexy way to remove one’s socks and shoes. But once they’re out of the way, she gives me a soft command. “Your shirt… take it off.”
Smiling darkly at her, I lift the hem of my dark gray Henley and lift it slowly up my torso. For the first time ever, I’m glad that I work out. I’m glad that she’ll watch me as I reveal myself to her, and I hope she finds pleasure in looking at my body.
I’m temporarily blinded when I pull the shirt over my head, but I hear her loud and clear when she sighs in pleasure. As I toss the shirt aside, I find her eyes pinned to my chest. I stand there… absolutely still, and watch her watch me. Her eyes roam… over my stomach, my ribs, my chest… my shoulders, my arms, then back to my stomach again, before dropping down a bit lower where she looks hungrily at my hard-on straining against my jeans.