Page 28 of Born Savage

My will to fight tossed aside.

My desire to escape all but forgotten.

His hand lingered in my most forbidden spot, teasing me to the point the ache for him itself was just as painful. I cinched my eyes shut as he fondled me, no longer needing to hold me against the wall. I was relaxed while my breathing remained hitched. I’d never experienced such pleasure.

I knew the moment he curled the tips of his fingers, hitting a spot that brought sheer ecstasy. Gasping, I bit my lower lip to try to curtail any noise, but with every deep plunge, the battle was easily lost. How could such pleasure be provided by such a brutal man?

Like everything else, there were no clear answers, just wave after wave of enjoyment. So much so I was trembling all over, my pussy clenching and releasing around his fingers.

“So tight,” he muttered.

In my crazy brain, I’d told myself I’d wait for the right man. As if there were any out there. There were no princes as told in fabled stories on the yellowing pages of fantasy books. There were no heroes as noted in crumbling comic books.

There were only broken men and monsters and the fine line between them had already become blurred.

I hadn’t realized I’d begun to slide to the floor until Rage suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist. In keeping me aloft, his actions weren’t slowed. In fact, he thrust faster, keeping me on my toes as incredible pressure continued to build.

My head remained foggy as a strange and amazing set of sensations tore through me. I’d orgasmed before in those few private moments where darkness had been my friend. But the increasing jolts of current thrashing through my body were unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

With his arm locked around me, he pulled me away from the wall until I was left with a feeling of floating in the air. His fingers remained flexed open and with a twist of his hand, his thumb speared my asshole.

Another wave of shock left a lingering impression. He pressed his face against the side of my neck, his scalding breath keeping the fire burning brightly. “Come for me. I need to feel your release.”

Need and want were two entirely different words, but the meaning was clear.

He wouldn’t allow me to rest until I’d obeyed him.

Which wasn’t difficult since my body was following his commands to the letter.

Another wave of heat sliced through every vein and muscle, leaving me breathless with an ache so deep my body would have folded over had he not been holding me.

His fingers were magic, still drilling into me while his mouth whispered all the filthy things he’d do in response to my obedience.

With the beautiful wave of pleasure, I was pulled from this world to that realm of fantasy. A sweet reminder that sometimes when you wished hard enough, your hopes and dreams could come true.

CHAPTER 6

Rage

A virgin.

I’d laid claim to a virgin, a woman so beautiful she’d managed to take my breath away. Was there guilt? Some, but whatever was driving us together refused to be denied. What I felt and had already experienced with her was highly unusual.

In the world of the damned, very little mattered.

Not the former fancy toys of the rich and famous, expensive sports cars defying gravity, the cost exceeding what most had earned in two years. If not more.

And certainly not the number of dwellings a person owned as most were little more than cracked concrete and twisted steel. The dwellings surviving the blast formed an entirely different skyline than depicted in the glossy magazines of years before.

While precious jewels did have their place in currency for illegal drugs and ammunition, money meant nothing.

Other than another substance to burn in hopes of withstanding another long, frigid night.

In the darkest bowels of every city, there were still secrets lying in wait, used against those considered traitors. And the level of brutality used for both punishment and pleasure was merely an extension of behavior coveted by those considered the rich and famous.

What continued to drive those suffering daily was hope for survival, wishing for better days.

Yet in the domed cities, hope was given freely in exchange for one’s soul, the people in charge ruling by fear and demand.