Page 75 of Savage Desires

"Please, what?"

"Please fuck me, sir," I say, giving him what I know he wants.

When I called him Sir last night, he loved it. A part of me wants to call him Master and see what he does. I don't have a chance to contemplate it more because he starts fucking me just how I wanted. Deep, hard thrusts that have me crying out and moaning.

He grabs my hands and pins them above my head with one of his. Being held down sparks a bit of fear in me, but it doesn't take root because one look into Kisten's eyes tells me he won't hurt me. I give myself over to him, letting him fuck me however he wants. It doesn't take long before I'm teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me. Milk my cock like a good girl," he orders.

He fucks me harder, and I detonate on a scream. He doesn't stop moving until he's fucked every ounce of pleasure out of me. When I don't think I can take anymore, he buries himself deep inside me, finding his own release. The feeling of him coming inside me is so intimate. Feeling his cock throb inside me and the heat of his release filling me makes me feel so connected to him. There's a brief feeling of regret that he'll never be able to get me pregnant. He'll never fill me with his babies because those bastards took that from me.

Kisten's lips crash to mine, distracting me from my morose thoughts. He rolls us, so I'm on top like last night. I'm plastered to his chest, his strong arms wrapped around me, and his cock still deep inside me. I've never felt more secure in my life. Nothing can hurt me while I'm in his arms. Not even my own dark thoughts. It doesn't take long for the steady beat of his heart and soothing touch to lull me to sleep.

I'm nervous. We're meeting at the warehouse tonight to make plans for Saturday. I'm thankful that Kisten has been keeping me distracted all day. We went to the shooting range so I could do the obstacle course for more advanced training. It's the same thing the police and military use for training. Moving targets are definitely more challenging, but my aim was true.

I did three different simulations and managed to do a kill shot on all the bad guys and avoid the innocent ones. T.J. and Kisten didn't mention that not every target would be threatening. It was a stark reminder of how vital split-second decisions can be. I might've yelled a little at the assholes for setting me up like that, but I get why they did it that way. They want me prepared for anything.

We spent most of the day in the gym working on getting out of holds yesterday. It was super frustrating because things I could easily do before were a struggle. I ended up tapping out way more often than I liked. It added a new level of anxiety for Saturday. I have to stay on the offensive during hand-to-hand fights as much as possible and avoid getting caught in a hold. It's not impossible to get out because I have the training. I know what to do, but it taxes my energy big time, and that's not a good plan. The best option is to not get into a punching match with anyone and shoot anyone who looks in my direction, but that's not realistic.

The rest of the day was spent reviewing the blueprints for Mecca. Of course, the basement was just a big empty space on paper—not like they would have their plans drawn up for anyone to find. I'm able to sketch it out for Kisten and explain what every room is used for and where the guards stand. I do the same for the VIP area, even though it should be empty when we go in to get the girls.

"Calm down, love. I'm right here and not leaving your side."

"I'm okay. Just a lot of people."

"You met most of them last time. They'll bring a couple of their people to help plan their part of things, but they are all trusted people. You're safe here."

"My safety isn't my concern. I don't want to have another episode like the other day if things get heated. That would be embarrassing and make them doubt me," I say, admitting my fear.

"That won't happen. Mauve, Sissy, and Chante will all be here. I have a feeling they will be making you an official member of their little group."

I like the idea of being part of the girls. If Sissy and Chante are even half as badass as Mauve is, then I can't wait to meet them. Hopefully, their confidence and badassery will rub off on me.

"And remember, you're my fucking Queen. No one fucks with what's mine," Kisten says in a low dangerous tone.

I pout. "I thought I was your princess."

He smirks and tugs me into his body. "To the world, you're the Queen. You rule us all. Behind closed doors, you're my spoiled princess. My naughty princess that takes my cock whenever and wherever I command."

My pussy clenches with need. He's not wrong. After our sparring session at the gym, he carried me off to his office to fuck me over his desk because he couldn't wait for us to get home. It was hot as hell to see Kisten lose control like that. It definitely helped me work out my frustration from the session.

He tips my face up with a firm grip on my chin. "Your little pussy is wet, isn't it?"

I lick my lips. "Yes."

He groans and cups my pussy through my jeans, rubbing his palm on my clit. I whimper at the teasing touch. I spread my legs slightly, and he chuckles. "Needy girl. If we had time, I'd fuck you right here."

"I need you," I whine.

He kisses me with strong swipes of his tongue. "I know you do, love. I promise I'll make it up to you when this meeting is over. I'll fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

He presses a kiss to my forehead and steps away from me. Putting a slight distance between us. He does it whenever he's on the verge of losing control. I find myself wanting to test his resolve more and more. I don't let the distance stand. I lean into his side, my arm around his back, finger hooked in his belt loop.

People start arriving, and the conference room quickly fills up. There are more than double the number of people as last time. It's clear that some of these people aren't friendly in the least. There are a lot of glares and hostility between groups. It surprises me that they're willing to work together with that level of hate between them. It speaks to their character that they'd be willing to set differences aside to keep the city free of human trafficking.

Criminals with morals is definitely a new concept for me.

Mauve comes in with two other women. All three of them strut into the room like they own the place. They look at the men like they aren't a threat, and I immediately decide that I want to be just like them. I want to shed my insecurities and stand in a room full of dangerous men and just know I'm capable of going against any of them and come out on top.