Royal Savage
Page 22

It’s quiet for a while.
By the time I look over again, Avalon is fast asleep, curled up into my big jacket.
“Thanks for the chat.” I whisper to myself. “I guess I know why the fuck you gave that douche a shot now.”
Closing my eyes again, I allow myself to just enjoy the peace and quiet of the night, hoping that this odd fucking calming feeling of having her near drowns out the rest of the noise in my head for a while.
Maybe I’m just an idiot for having any hope . . .
I WAKE UP IN A panic, looking around a cold, dark room. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust enough to see that the room is unfamiliar.
Fear sets in until I look over to the right to see Royal sitting in a chair with his face buried in his hands. His long, messy hair is hanging over his inked hands, his shoulders slumped in defeat: a beautiful, but heartbreaking sight to take in. It makes my chest hurt at the realization of what he told me earlier at the lake, and I have a feeling that he’s still lost in his thoughts over his loss. Seeing him in pain almost physically hurts me.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly, while sitting up. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and intrude. I should go. I’ll go find Jax and ask for a ride.”
Royal looks up from his hands and rubs his hand down his mouth. He clears his throat and reaches beside him for a bottle of whiskey. “Go back to sleep. You’re fine.”
Getting comfortable against the headboard, I watch him as he tilts the bottle back and takes a long swig. “I’m not really tired anymore. I can go upstairs and watch TV so you can have your bed back at least.”
I get ready to get out of his bed, but his command stops me, making my heart jump from the firmness of his voice. “Stay.”
Keeping his eyes on me, he slowly stands up and strips out of his shirt, tossing it aside. My heart begins racing with unwanted desire as my eyes gradually trail over his firm body, bit by bit, taking it all in; every inch of pure inked muscle. This man is undeniably beautiful, and I could spend hours just admiring the art of his body and tattoos and never grow tired.
My eyes follow his hands as they lower down his body to undo his jeans, before pushing them down his tattooed legs. Watching him take them off sends a surge of excitement through me and I find myself wanting to just reach out and touch this man. The feeling makes my chest ache with need.
I can’t pull my eyes away as he walks over to the opposite side of the bed and crawls in beside me. That’s when I notice the scars on his right thigh, just below his black boxer briefs.
My heart drops as I take in the three, long, jagged lines. Without thinking, I reach out and run my fingers across them. “How did you get these?”
Grabbing my wrist, he pulls it away and squeezes it. “A knife.”
My eyes widen at his confession, and I get this strong urge to just reach out and comfort him and let him know just how beautiful every inch of his body truly is; the scars included. I have to fight with everything in me not to ask him why or how. I want to know everything about this man and why he is the way he is: dark and demanding.
Feeling a small bit of confidence, I crawl in between his legs and grip his thighs, watching his reaction as I run my hand over his scars again. Feeling his legs flex under my touch has my stomach doing somersaults and my breathing uneven.
His eyes leisurely close and a deep growl escapes him as I move my hand higher up his thigh to the top of the first scar.
“Watch yourself, Avalon.” I squeeze his thighs, just wanting to feel him. Right now, I could care less about the consequences. This man gets my heart pumping unlike anything or anyone else. “Dammit, you’re fucking pushing it.”
For some odd reason, a part of me wants to know what he’ll do if I continue to push it. Taking a deep breath and holding it, I slowly move both of my hands up his strong thighs, stopping just below his thick erection. I allow my fingers to trace the outline.
“Fuck!” He yells.
Next thing I know, his hands are on me and I’m somehow below him on the mattress, with our faces only inches apart.
Gripping my thigh with one hand, he opens my legs wide and presses his body between them, squeezing my thigh so hard that it hurts.
I feel his lips next to my ear as he captures both of my wrists in one hand and holds them above my head with force. “If I fuck you . . . I will hurt you. Every fucking inch of this beautiful body will crave to be touched by me . . . devoured by me, and I can’t promise you more than one night, so stop.”
“Oh yeah,” I challenge, feeling my heart pumping with adrenaline. “What makes you so sure of that? Maybe all I want is one taste.” I tangle my hands into his hair and tug on it, pulling his neck to the side. “Maybe you’re just afraid that you’ll want it more than once, or maybe you don’t fuck as good as you look.”
I almost regret that last part and can’t believe that I actually had the balls to say it. I don’t apologize though. Instead, I search his eyes, demanding a response.
His eyes stay on mine for a heated moment, burning me from the inside out and making my whole body flush, before he bites my bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth. The feeling of his beard rubbing my lips surprisingly turns me on, mixed with the pain of his mouth and I find my body already lashing out, wanting more, so I bite him back when he tries pulling away.
Releasing my hands and grabbing my face with one hand, he yanks my jeans down my legs with force and tosses them aside. Lifting me up, he flips us, leaving me to straddle his lap, then tangles his hands into the back of my hair and thrusts his hips into me, hard. So hard that I bounce out of his lap and fall back down, my breath getting knocked out of me.
I let out a loud moan, just imagining the way it would feel to actually have him inside of me. He’s so thick and long that a part of me is almost afraid it will hurt. Pushing me down against him as roughly as he can, he thrusts his hips a few times, grinding his erection against my now aching pussy. His rhythm has me almost dying above him, and I can tell by the satisfied look in his eyes and his devilish grin that he knows he has me right where he wants me: hot and ready to lose myself to him.
His grip on my hair tightens as he yanks my head back and bites my neck, thrusting against me again, his erection driving between my wet lips. That’s all it takes for me to lose it, my pussy clenching hard as my whole body shakes in his arms and I scream out his name.
He waits until my orgasm is done, before tossing me down beside him. “Now go to sleep. I’ve been drinking all fucking night so don’t test me.”