Savage Impulses by Danielle Dubois Page B

can't,” she said faintly, but his sure
movements told her in no uncertain way that he certainly could.
    He took his time with it, moving with
agonizing slowness. As she bit her lip, he slowly inched up to her
sex. It was hard to tell where the water ended and her own wet
response began. When his fingers, covered in the rough fabric of
the washcloth, found her slit, she knew it didn't matter.
    She moaned with embarrassment when he swept
the fabric from the very front of her slit all the way to the back,
pressing her buttocks apart to do so.
    “Don't...” she muttered, but when he pressed
his hand against her rear, she couldn't stop herself from groaning
and pressing back against him.
    “Don't what?” he asked challengingly. “Don't
make you cry out? Don't make you feel good?”
    When she had no response to that, he chuckled
and threw the cloth aside. He replaced the fabric with his own
fingers.
    She moaned as he spread her cheeks wide, and
she realized that he was looking at her more intimately than anyone
ever had before.
    “You're beautiful here,” he told her firmly.
“Perfectly made, as if you were created with me in mind. You were
just a virgin yesterday, and you have no idea what's waiting for
more.”
    She shivered at his words, involuntarily
tightening against him.
    He responded by sliding a quick finger inside
her.
    The water made it easier than ever, and she
gasped at the speed as much as at the sensation. He pulled it out
again just as quickly, making her cry out in dismay.
    “There are places where I've not even touched
you,” Jake continued. “For my father, who's a well-respected man
back east, people smile and nod, but behind my back, I know that
they call me a savage for my mother's blood.”
    He squeezed the globes of her rear in his
large hands, and she groaned. He was strong enough to leave
bruises, and she thought she might get around to protesting as soon
as it stopped feeling so damned good.
    “They might call me a savage, but you might
be surprised at the invitations I get from some of those high and
mighty townswomen, and you would be positively shocked at what they
want me to do...”
    Marigold grit her teeth and she kicked her
legs hard enough to get a good splash in Jake's face. She was
rewarded by a yell. Glancing over her pale shoulder, she managed to
catch his eye.
    “You're not going to be taking any more
invitations from those townswomen you were talking about. Not while
you've got me living here, you understand?”
    The moment the words were out of her, she
felt stripped, as if she were taking some kind of huge risk, but
Jake only chuckled.
    “I would never take an invitation from any
kind of woman like that,” he assured her. “The kind of woman I like
is a lot more open about her 'savage' impulses. The woman of my
dreams is willing to take all of me when we're underneath the open
sky and mounted on the back of a horse. She's willing to let me tie
her down so that I can have her in whatever way I like best, and
she's... open to new ideas.”
    As he spoke, he ran the tip of his finger
over her rear hole, making her yelp and try to pull away. Despite
the initial shock, she could not deny that there was pleasure to
it, and she listened, fascinated as he talked.
    “I've known women back east who prefer to use
this hole. It prevented pregnancies, they said, and it made them
feel a kind of pleasure they never knew. Can you imagine me
stretching you here, opening you up so that you can take my
cock?”
    She could imagine it, and the image terrified
her even as it aroused her. She bucked hard.
    Jake laughed, and he laid a hand on her rump,
calming her.
    “Not tonight then, I see. It seems that my
darling is a little skittish. There will be plenty of time to
seduce you into seeing my way, after all.”
    She was going to ask him what he meant by
that, but he was already pressing his fingers inside her slit,
probing deep and sinking straight in from the warmth and the
lubrication that