Wicked Savage: Chapter 9

“So, about this weekend in New York City you mentioned. Where exactly would we go?’ I ask, taking a sip of the iced tea I ordered, my eyes lingering on the attractive, enigmatic man across from me.

I can’t believe he’s already planning another date before we’ve even finished this one, but honestly, I wouldn’t say no. The more we talk, the more I find myself wanting to spend every single second with him, wishing we weren’t so far apart.

“We’d catch a show, then I’d take you on a shopping spree and spoil you a little before I fucked you in every room of my penthouse.”

I shiver at his words, the heat in his gaze searing into me and sending a storm through my pulse.

“I think I’d like that,” I manage to say, my tone barely steady.

He chuckles, that smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, sinking deep into my gut. My core throbs in response.

“I thought you were afraid I was a serial killer,” he adds. “Doesn’t it scare you to be alone with me all weekend?”

If he only knew how many killers I’ve crossed paths with…

I shrug, trying to play it cool, twirling my straw between my fingers. “Well, my mother always said those who don’t take risks don’t drink champagne.”

His expression shifts, the teasing fading as he takes a quiet breath. “Your mother…she passed away?”

“Yeah. About two years ago.” My throat tightens, and I quickly glance away, swallowing hard.

“I’m sorry.” His voice softens, and I feel the sincerity in his words. “My mother passed away too, when I was a few years older than you.”

“I’m sorry too.”

He pauses, then gently asks, “So, who do you live with? Your father?”

I shake my head, trying to push past the sting of memories. “My siblings and I moved in with my older cousin. I never really got along with my dad.”

My eyes drop as I’m haunted by the last time I saw my father—furious when he found out I was leaving with Konstantin.

“Are you okay?” His hand finds mine, holding it with a tenderness that makes my chest tighten.

“Yeah…” I force a smile.

When his brow furrows, I’m not sure if he believes me. But he doesn’t press further. Instead, he shifts the conversation.

“So, what does that saying mean? The one your mother used to say?”

I fight the urge to laugh at the confusion that flashes across his face. “It’s a Russian proverb. Like the American saying ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained.’”

“Ah,” he muses, his grin widening as his eyes darken, the room’s soft lighting casting shadows across his features. “I like it. And…am I that risk?”

I meet his gaze. “You are. And if I don’t take it…I’ll never know if there’s a reward waiting for me.”

He chuckles. “I promise there is.”

“I don’t mean the one in your pants, even though that isn’t so bad.”

“I didn’t mean the one in my pants either, love.” He leans in, his elbows resting on the table, the veins in his large hands straining against his skin. “And not so bad, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Plenty of fish in the sea to try out. You know, for comparison,” I add, a mischievous tone to my words. “Wouldn’t want to settle.”

The muscle in his neck jerks. I don’t know why I like making him jealous. Maybe because I can. Maybe because I enjoy knowing that he hates imagining me with other men already. Maybe I have daddy issues and am starving for love. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter, because I really like torturing him.

“Say that again and see what I do to you, Dinara.”

“I’d say I mind, but I really don’t think I would.”

In an instant, he’s up on his feet, striding over to my side. There’s a steely look in his eyes, and the way his chest rises and falls just before he grabs my hips sends a jolt through me.

He lifts me into his arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” I fight a laugh as he carries me over to his side of the table and drops me onto his lap.

My legs straddle him, dress hiked up to my upper thighs as he grabs my jaw, staring so deep into my eyes, I feel it in every cell of my body.

“I thought you needed reminding whose pussy this is.”

“You’ve fucked me once. My pussy is not yours, Cillian Quinn,” I whisper, his lips pulling closer to mine.

“Once, twice, a hundred times. It doesn’t matter, Dinara. You’re gonna be mine. Because I’ve already decided.”

“Decided what?”

His cock presses into my pulsing core. “I’m your first, and I plan to be your last.”

My heart skips a beat, completely overtaken by his words even when I know logically that all these feelings I’m experiencing, the things he’s saying… It’s all too soon.

What is it about him that draws me in? Is it his self-confidence? His masculinity? The commanding aura? The way he just claimed me as his when we barely even know each other?

This truly could go one of two ways. He’s either insane or I’ve just hit the jackpot.

“My last, huh? Well, that doesn’t seem fair.” I nip his bottom lip, and he groans, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling until it stings.

“What doesn’t?”

“You got to fuck God knows how many women and I only ever get to fuck you?”

Even though I’m one hundred percent certain there’s no one better out there.

His jaw tightens. “None of them ever meant anything. And if I could go back, I’d change it all. But it doesn’t matter now, baby, because you’re stuck with me.”

His smirk makes the ache between my thighs grow until I find myself grinding on his lap, his cock thick and hard against my core.

“Is there a way to get unstuck?”

His hand brushes gently under my chin, his eyes dark and burning with raw intensity. “No matter how hard you try, leannan, I’m always going to be there, reminding you how right we’ve been from the moment we met.”

A rush of need floods through me as his free hand fists my hair, dragging my face down until his mouth crashes into mine. “Cillian,” I groan in between kisses.

His growl is deep and demanding as he takes me roughly, teeth nipping, his tongue invading me and sucking mine into his mouth. I’ve never in my life been kissed this way. Like this man is trying to devour me or remind me that I am his in every sense.

Maybe both.

For a moment, I wonder if my mother would’ve liked him.

And then the reality hits: she’ll never be there to see me get married or be there when I have a baby. She’ll never share in those moments, never laugh or cry, because she’s gone. A tightness grips my chest, the sadness creeping in just as he pulls away, his hand gently resting on my nape.

I sigh deeply, letting my face fall into the curve of his neck, my arms wrapping around him and holding him close. His palm moves in slow, comforting strokes along my back, and even though he doesn’t know it, his touch eases the ache.

“You alright, babe?” His voice is soft, laced with genuine concern, and it twists something inside me.

I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat, and force a smile as I pull away from his touch. “Yeah, sorry. I’m good.”

He doesn’t buy it. His eyes stay locked on mine, his brows knitting as he studies my face for any crack in my mask.

Before he can respond, our waitress arrives with the food, rolling a cart toward us, but Cillian doesn’t even look at her. His focus never leaves me, concern still written across his face.

“That looks good,” I say, trying to redirect him, hoping the distraction works.

When the waitress stops right in front of our table, I can’t help but notice how unfazed she is by the sight of me practically humping Cillian. Then again, I’m sure he’s paying a lot for this private room.

We both thank her, and once she sets the plates down, I try to stand, but Cillian tightens his arm around me.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His warm breath grazes my neck, igniting a rush of sensation that ripples through me, heat pooling low and urgent.

“My seat, so I can eat?” I raise a brow, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

His gaze darkens, desire flickering in his eyes. “You’ll stay right here on my lap like a good girl, where I can feed you.”

My stomach clenches, heat sparking in the space between us. The tips of my fingers trace his jaw, grazing his rough stubble. A surge of heat pulses through me as I lower my lips to his, the kiss soft and tentative.

He groans, his fingers threading into my hair, but he doesn’t rush it, letting me lead instead.

“I can be a good girl.” My lips drop to his throat, kissing up that beating pulse, that rough skin. “A very good girl.”

“I don’t know about that.” His head falls backward, and I love watching him turned on.

I suck on his skin, circling my hips against his hardness while he grunts and arches into me until a moan slips out from my throat. I slide a hand between us, stroking his hard erection through his trousers.

“Fuck, you need to stop.”

“Don’t think so.” I stroke him faster, my lips feathering over his while my hand slides up and down to a quicker tempo.

His teeth grind, the need rattling his bones until he grabs my wrist and roughly drags my hand away.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls.

The corner of my mouth angles up. “Paying you back for earlier.”

His chuckle is low and raspy, still drowning in his obvious need. “That’s not gonna work well for you, baby.”

In an instant, he grips my hips, flipping me so I’m still on his lap, but facing the table. He drags the chair closer, positioning me on one of his powerful thighs as he calmly starts cutting the steak into small bites. He does the same with the lobster tail, his focus unwavering as I wait, curious to see what he’ll do next.

“Open your mouth.” He brings the fork with a piece of the steak close to my lips.

As I hungrily take a bite, he widens my thighs and slides the lace of my thong to the side, completely exposing me.

“What are you doing?” My tone grows hoarse, my face heating up from the possibility that the waitress will catch us.

“Playing with my food before I eat it.” He nips my earlobe as I try to chew, his fingers taking a leisurely swipe through my soaked center. “If you don’t finish your meal, I won’t let you come.”

He flicks my clit just as the steak glides down my throat, stars forming in my eyes from the intense sensation.

“Think you can do that?” He slowly slides one finger inside me, then another, until I’m stretched to what feels like the max, but I know that’s nothing compared to his cock.

“Yes.” I nod frantically, needing the release so badly, though I’m sure he won’t have pity on me.

“We’ll see.” He pops another piece into my mouth, his thumb barely grazing over my clit while his fingers curl as he fucks me with them.

“Oh God,” I groan, unable to swallow, the need clawing at my skin.

“Eat,” he demands, his rough tone making my body tremble with anticipation.

He works me faster, his thumb rubbing me in hurried circles. I attempt to keep it down, fingernails digging into the top of his thighs as I fight not to moan as loud as I want to, the feeling permeating every pore in my body.

“Look how soaked you are, messing up my pants with that perfect pussy.” He slips his fingers out, running them over my lips. “Suck.”

I obey, instantly tasting myself, while his lips drop back to my ear.

“So submissive. I like that.”

My walls clench, enjoying his praise.

His touch returns between my thighs, adding a third finger until it burns, but when he flicks my clit, all I feel is pleasure. The need climbs and claws until I’m barely able to take another bite of the food, but he pushes the fork into my mouth, reminding me of the rules.

Eat and keep quiet.

I can behave. I can do whatever he wants. I’m a good girl.

He pistons his fingers faster, and my eyes roll back, my breath stilling in my chest.

Fuck, I don’t wanna be a good girl right now. I wanna be bad. I want to release his dick from his pants and fuck him right here, not giving a shit who sees us.

“Cillian!” Pleasure permeates through my tone.

“Every bite, love,” he reminds me, increasing and then decreasing his tempo as he feeds me another bite, then another.

I don’t taste the food anymore, completely overtaken by the sensations he’s brought out in me.

“I’m close,” I cry out, arching my back toward him, needing to come so badly.

The fork makes it past my lips, and I think it’s lobster this time. I don’t even care what he gives me; I’ll eat it all because all I’m hungry for is this orgasm.

“Come on now. You’re almost done.” He drives deeper and faster, and my breathing turns labored.

Oh God, I’m almost there. Just a little⁠—

The door creaks, the waitress approaching.

Nonono!

“Better keep quiet.”

Thrust.

“Or you’re gonna put on quite the show.”

He circles my clit, penetrating me harder as he uses the tablecloth to cover my hips.

Fuck. This can’t be happening.

“How is everything?” The waitress smiles just as he tips the fork to my mouth once again.

“It’s quite delicious. Right, baby?” He peers at me while I try to formulate a response that doesn’t sound like a dying cat.

“Mm-hmm. Perrrr-fect.” I clear my throat.

Oh my God, I’m gonna come.

“That’s great to hear.” She refills our waters.

Just fucking leave, lady!

“If there’s anything you two need, just let me know.”

“We will.”

Thrust.

“In about twenty, please bring out a piece of your chocolate mousse cake.”

“Certainly.” She bows her head, turning toward the door while he continues to torture me.

“Good girl,” he tells me. “I don’t think she had any idea that you were being finger-fucked under the table like a dirty slut.”

“Please, Cillian, please.” I bite on the edge of my lower lip, begging and pleading for this to end.

His other hand grips my throat, his mouth across my ear. “Look how you beg for it.”

A growl escapes him in a sharp, breathless rush. And that only makes me that much hungrier for the release he keeps denying me.

“Please. Please let me come.”

He thrusts his fingers deeper, faster. My clit’s tender, pulsing with need.

He squeezes tighter around my throat. “Not yet. You haven’t finished all your food.”

“I-I’m not hungry.”

Except for you.

In a flash, he flips me around over his thighs, roughly dragging up my dress until my ass is exposed. “Cillian, what are⁠—”

He slaps me hard across my behind, soothing my skin with his palm. His hand slides into my hair until he’s fisting it tight.

“You didn’t follow the rules, love. So you don’t get to come.”

“No, no, please. I’ll beg. Please. Please let me come.”

The throaty rasp of his chuckle makes me shiver. He spanks me again and again, until the pain is nothing but a throbbing burn he soothes away before it returns with a vengeance.

“Good girls follow rules, while bad girls get punished.” He shoves my panties to the side, cool air hitting my core.

I’m a little afraid someone is gonna walk back in and see me like this.

My God, the mortification, especially with Boris right outside the room. But I need this so badly that I don’t care.

“Please. I’ll be good, I promise.”

His gaze turns molten, teeth clenched as he slaps me again. “I know you will.”

Another heavy strike has me gasping with a cry, whimpering and writhing, as he touches me there, teasing me before another slap comes. The pleasure and pain morphs into one, tears forming in the corners of my eyes from the sheer need, the throbbing of my skin. I’ve never understood what orgasm denial felt like until now. It’s torture.

He rams two fingers into me, teasing me to the brink before slowing his rhythm. Beneath, his rock-hard dick pushes into me, making me crave it.

But being like this—over his knee, completely exposed and at his mercy—it’s hot. I’m enjoying every bit of this sweet torture.

His fingers slide through my core, playing with my opening, teasing me with my own slickness as he drags his fingertips to my puckered hole. “Going to have this too.”

He pushes into it, and I moan from the sensation, knowing I’d let this man do anything he wants to me.

“Please, please…”

“I love hearing you beg me for pleasure.”

His touch returns to my center, thrusting deeper, working my clit at the same time while my hair is still trapped in his curled fist.

“Hear that?” He takes me harder, the sound of my wetness filling the space around us. “Your pussy is soaked, baby. All for me.”

“Yes, it’s all yours.” My voice drops, crying out for more.

When he touches my clit this time, I fall apart, completely overtaken by the most intense orgasm of my entire life.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby. Squirt all over me.”

I can’t believe he made me do that again. I’ve read about this, but never believed it was real.

He continues to drive his fingers deeper until I’m completely spent, breathing out heavily as I collapse against him. He tugs my head back by my hair, his gaze locking on to mine as he searches my eyes. Then, without warning, he captures my lips in a kiss that’s both deep and intoxicating. Every part of me is completely captivated by him.

His growl is thick and strained, a raw and savage sound that resonates through my core as his tongue twists around mine. The man is pure animal, and I’ll gladly volunteer to be his prey every single time.

He pulls back, his stare intensifying as he fixes my panties and lowers my dress before placing me back on his lap. When I glance down, I find a wet stain on one of his pant legs.

“Oh my God.” My hand cups my mouth, but he only laughs.

“I’ll wear it like a badge of honor.”

“You’re truly a madman.”

The back of his hand strokes across my jaw. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

My head falls against his shoulder, and he winds his arm around me, holding me so tight, I feel like I somehow belong with this man. This crazy man who makes me feel things. Scary things. Not just sexually, but emotionally.

I’d really like to keep him, but the universe has never cared about what I want. It takes without warning, just like it took my mother.

My heart pounds, but I force those thoughts back into the dark corner of my mind, where I’d rather not go.

I glance up at the door just as it opens, our waitress stepping in with an enormous slice of the most decadent double chocolate cake. She clears out the table, then places two empty plates and the cake before us.

“Thank you.” He pulls a stack of bills from his wallet and hands them to her.

She looks down at it, her eyes wide. I’m pretty sure it’s close to a thousand, if I counted the hundreds right.

“Do you need change?”

He shakes his head. “We’ll leave when we’re ready.”

“Not a problem. Thank you.” She glances back at him as she walks away.

I raise an eyebrow. “Do you always leave such a generous tip?”

He chuckles. “Depends on my mood.”

His hips shift against me, his gaze darkening with desire.

“And you’re in a good mood now?”

“I’ll be in a better one once I have you bent over this table with my cock deep inside your cunt.”

Shit.

His words send a zap to my core.

“Is that right?”

He leans in, his lips ghosting over mine. “Why do you think I gave her so much money and told her to fuck off?”

His smirk does sinful things to me.

“You’re so polite.” I nip his lip, and he groans, winding my long hair around his wrist.

“Always.”

His mouth takes me hard as he stands, effortlessly lifting me with him. In one swift motion, he bends me over the table, shoving the plates aside, clearing space for what’s to come.

His body molds to mine from behind, one hand tangled in my hair while the other glides up my dress, bunching it past my hips with a slow, deliberate touch.

“Stay just like that,” he warns as he reaches into his pocket.

I don’t see what he’s holding at first until he’s ripping a condom wrapper with his teeth.

“You have no idea how badly I want inside you, a ghra.”

That word, his desperation for me…it all makes me want him even more.

“Show me.”

His eyes ignite like a fiery flame, fingers lowering the condom over his thick erection. Those piercings are insanely sexy and I want to experience the feeling of them again.

“There are so many things I can show you.” He lines the crown of his cock against my entrance, and I welcome the instant sting, needing more, pushing my ass into him.

“Fuck me, Cillian. Don’t hold back.”

“I don’t plan to.”

My center throbs; I love what those words do to me. His fingers land on the zipper at my back, slowly lowering it. The sound fills the room, adding to the erotic current we’re both trapped in.

“Is that what you want?” His caress trails slowly along my bare skin, and my back bows from the sensation.

“Yes.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” His mouth drops to my shoulder, leaving a kiss behind.

The more he touches me, the more aroused I become. The more desperate. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I have to remind myself that he’s a grown man. Not like the little boys I’ve kissed before.

His crown pushes into me just as his teeth sink into my nape before he licks the pain away. “All I want to do right now is take you hard and deep, but I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

Turning backward, I stare into his eyes, finding kindness within them. He’s definitely not from my world, that’s for sure. The last thing those men care about is whether they’re hurting the girl they’re fucking.

“Do it. I told you, don’t hold back.” I grab his forearm.

His mouth twitches with a half-smile, and before I can utter my next breath, he slams his hips into me, sheathing his thickness inside me. I wince from the pain. I should’ve reconsidered what I told him, but it’s definitely too late now.

“Shit, I’m hurting you.” He turns my head gently, his palm resting on my cheek, brows creased with concern.

“No, I’m fine.” My mouth trembles slightly, betraying me.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“This is new for me. It’s okay if it hurts.”

“It’s not okay.” He leans down and kisses me, his touch soft and reassuring, making my heart flutter at his tenderness.

“Look, someone had to do it. Might as well be you.” I crack a smile, hoping to ease the tension in his face.

Instead, his expression tightens, like he’s just learned someone’s ruined his favorite car.

“That’s right—it’ll be me.” His hips begin to move, slow but deliberate. “It’ll always be me.”

All restraint leaves him as his thrusts grow harder, driving deeper with each one, until all the pain is completely replaced with the pleasure he allows me to have. His fingers curl around my throat just tight enough to steal my breath, leaving me with only enough air to savor this intoxicating moment.

“Oh God, yes!”

“Stay quiet, love,” he hums, his voice rich and smooth, like velvet against my skin. “Unless you want an audience. Because I promise, I won’t stop for anyone.”

I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek, desperate to muffle my moans, but it’s useless. The more he pumps into me, the more I’m spiraling.

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever fucked.” His hand climbs up from my throat, grabbing my jaw hard as he whispers against my ear. “And I’m never gonna let you go.”

Please don’t.

With every deep, commanding thrust, he consumes me, and I surrender to him completely. His fingers trail down my hip, gliding to my core before teasing me with a flick that sends my eyes rolling back.

“Yes, don’t stop!”

“Never. Gonna give my greedy girl exactly what she needs.”

When he pinches my clit, white-hot pleasure bursts behind my eyes, my fingers gripping the tablecloth in a frantic attempt to ground myself. But he doesn’t stop. He pulls out only to hoist me onto the table, the plate of cake crashing to the floor as his mouth devours every last tremor of my release.

“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted.” His moans vibrate against my skin, his tongue gliding over me, teasing and tormenting until I’m powerless to contain the desperate cries spilling from my lips.

I don’t know how long he fucks me or how many times I actually come because I’ve lost all ability to count.

Or think.

Or do much of anything except feel everything with him.

But I do know one thing: this man is mine just as much as I am his, and nothing and no one will change that.