Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (The Hawke Family Book 1) (18 page)

Sweet baby Jesus! Savage is ripped!

I mean, I’ve seen him before, in the videos, but this is real life, full living color and flesh right at my fingertips. 

Sleeping peacefully on his back, his head is turned away from me, the arm that was wrapped around me now sprawled out along the bottom of the pillows, exposing his toned bicep. The crisp white sheet is pulled up just under his pecs and my hand itches to pull it down so I can examine the rest of him.

This is creepy. I shouldn’t be watching him sleep, thinking about touching him while he is completely unaware. Creepy, right? Predatory?

I clutch my hands together, anything to prevent me from giving in to my desire to find out if the rest of his body looks like this. He mentioned he works out every day, but I never imagined he could look like this under all those crisp, perfectly tailored shirts. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t chiseled pecs and arms that look like they belong on a professional athlete, not a strip club owner. The video quality was questionable, but this? This is very real.

The temptation to pull the sheet back grows and my clit throbs looking at him. I bury my face in my hands and take several deep breaths.

Just go back to sleep.

If I can just convince myself I’m in control and slip back down into his arm and against his firm body, maybe I can drift off. I throw my leg over his hip, press my lips to his chest, and relish the taste of his hot skin on my tongue.

God, he tastes so good.

Instinctively, I press my bare core against him, searching for relief from my pounding need. The loss of my panties last night should be embarrassing, but it makes it so much easier to seek relief this morning.

Fuck. That feels good.

I rock my hips slightly against him, burying my face into his shoulder and chewing my lip against the desire to bite into his hot skin.

With a slight shift, his arm circles me and I whip my head around to look at him as embarrassment over what I have been doing rushes through me. His blue eyes are on me with laser focus. I shift to move away from him, but he tugs me across his body, centering my very wet pussy over his very hard cock encased in silky sleep pants.

“Were you going somewhere?” he asks, his voice thick, gravelly, and sexy as all fuck. If this is how he sounds in the morning, I want to spend every night with this man, and that is a dangerous thought.

“Um, yeah…” I start to make an excuse, to cover for the fact I had just been trying to rub one out on him while he fucking slept.

God, I am such a pervert. What was I thinking?

“No, the only place you need to be is right here, with me.” He shifts beneath me and even though I can’t see it, I can feel his abs flexing against me and I can tell they are just as delicious as I imagined they would be. His cock rubs against my core and I groan, dropping my forehead against his shoulder and biting my lip again. “Danika, look at me.”

I lift my head. His intent is as clear as the blue of his eyes blazing with heat.

“I need to taste you,” he whispers. He takes my mouth in a commanding kiss, sliding his tongue between my lips before I can protest the whole morning breath thing. I try to pull away, but he slides his hand behind my head, holding me in place as he ravages my mouth.

His other hand slides down my stomach and he reaches under the t-shirt and drags his fingers through my wet core. “Mmmm, I need to taste you here,” he murmurs before leaning back and grabbing the hem of the shirt. “You need to lose this. I didn’t see nearly enough of you last night.”

Oh, sweet fucking Christ! This man…

Any reservations or embarrassment I may have felt earlier is replaced by the driving need to have him inside of me. Shifting up onto my knees, I slide my pussy along his thick, hard cock, soaking the silk of his pants with my wetness. He moans and closes his eyes, moving his hands to my hips and digging his fingers into my flesh.

A curse tumbles from his mouth before he grinds his teeth together and the muscle along his jaw ticks. His fingers loosen on my waist and his eyes open. He moves his hands back to the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls it up over my belly. I grab the shirt from him and yank it up and off, tossing it over the side of the bed and onto the floor.

I’m utterly and completely naked, and as his eyes roam my body. The heat and appreciation I find in his gaze makes my heart race and need for him scream even harder. A growl slips from his lips before he surges up from the pillow and captures my right nipple in his warm, wet mouth, his dark morning stubble scraping against my sensitive breast.

The palm of his hand finds my left breast and he tugs and tweaks that nipple in time with the assault of his mouth.

His teeth graze along my flesh and I cry out, grinding down against his cock and clutching him to me. My nipples are direct line to my clit, and every tug on them sends a fluttering frenzy and rushing moisture between my legs.

Delicious torture.
That is what this is…torture.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore; grasping his hair, I pull him back from my chest. Heavy-lidded eyes burning with desire meet mine, and he leans up to take my mouth in his. His kiss is soft but full of promise. He pulls away, lies down, and urges me toward the top of the bed.

“Get up here. I need you to come for me.” He pulls me forward until my knees are on either side of his neck, my dripping cunt positioned directly over his face. Grasping the headboard for balance, I glance down at him and am not surprised in the least to find a satisfied grin on his face.

“God, Dani, you are so fucking beautiful,” he professes before lightly kissing his way up my inner thigh, stopping just short of where I so desperately need him, only to repeat the process on the other side. “Absolutely perfect.”

He slowly skims his fingertips along my thighs. I quiver and drop my head against the headboard. “Please, Savage!”

You’re fucking KILLING me here!

He chuckles and his warm breath fans across my mound, causing my hips to instinctively push forward, seeking his mouth. When his tongue finally slides across my aching clit, I cry out, grinding down against him, my entire existence now centered on that tiny pulsing spot.

The glide and swirl of his tongue over and around my clit has my legs trembling, and I know it won’t take long for him to push me over the edge. When he slides his fingers into me, I clamp down and roll my hips in rhythm with his thrusting.

I’m right.

The orgasm slams into me like a freight train. My entire body spasms and I can barely hold myself up against the headboard as fireworks explode against my closed eyelids in time with the throbs of pleasure from my clit.

When the orgasm subsides, my legs become useless and I sag against the headboard, practically smothering Savage under me. Too weak to even care, I shift back over his chest and slide down his body, only one thing on my mind.

She slides slowly down my body. With the taste of her release still on my tongue, I capture her mouth, wrapping my arms around her back and dragging her against me until our bodies are practically one. Her breasts press into my chest and her nipples pebble against my skin as I grope the globes of her ass and squeeze them.

My dick might explode.

Pressed between our bodies, she grinds her hips against my cock and I almost come. It’s like I’m fifteen again, fooling around with Jessica Boswell under the bleachers at the high school football field.

It’s been so long since someone but me touched me there, the instant her hand circles me, I’m going to blow.

Don’t lose it, Savage.

She pulls back from my mouth, pressing her lips to my neck and kissing, sucking, and licking her way across my chest.

I close my eyes, relishing the touch of her lips and hot breath floating across my sensitive skin.

Moving slowly down my body, she reaches my stomach, exploring every groove with her tongue. I’m wound so tight, I’m physically shaking trying to control my reaction to her touch.

It’s incredible, and, for a brief moment, I’m able to forget I’m different than any other man, that this is different than every other time I’ve been with a woman in my life.

But, as her hand slides down to the waistband of my pants, the racing in my heart changes nature, from thrilling and electrifying, to chilling and alarming.

A cold sweat breaks out over my body and my cock deflates.

She can’t know. What just happened?

I quickly grab her wrist, stopping her just as she moves to slip her hand beneath the waistband.

Her head jerks up, her eyes searching my face for an explanation. Hoping I can do a good job of concealing my fear, I pull her captured hand to my mouth, pressing my lips to the center of her palm and then offer her a what-I-hope-is-convincing grin.

The question in her gaze is evident.

Shit, say something.

“This is about you, Danika, not me. Why don’t we make some breakfast?” The look of confusion on her face dissipates, but doesn’t completely disappear. She watches me intently, waiting for some further explanation. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Let me change the subject. Please, don’t push this right now.

My heart continues to race while she studies me for what feels like an eternity. Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh and climbs up to press a gentle kiss to my lips.

“Starved,” she says before rolling off my body and climbing off the side of the bed. “I want to hop in the shower quick, though. Do you mind?”

Oh, thank God.

Shifting up onto my elbows, I watch her perfect ass shake as she walks toward the bathroom. She stops and turns back to me at the door, waiting for my answer.

“No, I don’t mind. You shower and I’ll start on breakfast.”

She smiles, and the moment the door clicks closed, I drop back onto the bed, pressing my palms into my eyes in frustration.

What the fuck was that, Savage? A beautiful woman wants to touch your very hard cock and you have to stop her?

The water starts running in the bathroom and I try to shake off the momentary lapse of sanity.

Get your shit together, Savage.

I grab my t-shirt and yank it on before getting in my chair and leaving the bedroom. Thinking about Danika naked and wet in my shower is going to do nothing to help my blue balls.

Forcing myself to concentrate on putting together breakfast, I don’t even notice she’s done in the bathroom until I hear her soft footsteps on the wood floor of the living room ten minutes later. She appears at the entry to the kitchen in that damn tiny skirt and another one of my t-shirts.

For reasons I can’t even begin to fathom, the fact she had to go into my closet to get it doesn’t upset me. In fact, knowing she feels comfortable enough to do that without asking actually makes me insanely happy.

You have it bad!

She moves into the kitchen and leans down against the center island. I grin at her and the smile she returns lights up her entire face. “Can I help?”

“If you want to grab the coffee pot and some orange juice from the fridge, that would be great.”

“On it,” she says, turning to the fridge and yanking the door open. I curse myself for not keeping the juice on the lowest shelf so she would have to bend over to get it.

She meets me at the table and moans when she sees her plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. “Oh, my God, this looks so damn good! I’m starving.”

“You’re hungover.”

Glaring at me, she digs her fork into the eggs and takes an enormous bite, another moan slipping from her throat. It’s the same sound she makes when I have her pussy against my mouth and my dick hardens remembering this morning. I reach down and adjust it, discreetly, I hope, before returning to my plate.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by an occasional distracting noise from Danika. She has no fucking clue what she is doing to me with those little sounds.

A shrill ring sounds and Danika looks up at me in confusion. It rings again and her eyes widen. “Shit, where’s my purse? That’s my cell.”