Savage Flames Series Book 2: Sinful
المؤلف
Amber Kuhlman
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51.4K
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Renee finally feels safe in the arms of the three men who once broke her. Matt, Jake, and Aaron have become her home—fierce protectors instead of enemies. But peace doesn’t last forever. When a stalker starts haunting her every step, the fragile calm she’s built begins to crack. The past they’ve fought to bury claws its way back, and love suddenly feels like both her shield and her greatest risk. As fear spreads and secrets rise, Renee must decide who she can trust—because this time, love might not save her. It might destroy her.
Chapter 1: Say You’re Mine
MATT
Her wrists strained beneath my hands, the headboard rattling faintly as I pressed her down into the mattress. Sweat dampened her hairline, her lips parted in a desperate, half-pleading breath, and I swore my chest squeezed tighter than my grip.
She was so damn beautiful when she fought me.
Not because I wanted her fear—I would never want that—but because she trusted me enough to give in, to let me pin her like this and know she wasn’t in danger. That trust was what undid me every time.
The quiet whisper in the back of my head said: she could’ve chosen anyone…but she chose you.
Even if she also chose Jake. And Aaron.
The thought twisted in my gut, sharp and familiar.
“Matt…” Renee’s voice broke on my name, higher-pitched now, her back arching under me. My grip tightened automatically, pressing her wrists deeper into the pillow, holding her still even as her hips shifted restlessly.
“Easy,” I murmured against the curve of her throat. My voice was rough, low. “Don’t rush me, sweetheart.”
Her body shuddered. I felt it beneath me, the tremor rolling through her ribs.
“I—please—”
God, that word. Every time it made my blood run hotter.
I tilted my head and kissed the frantic pulse at her neck, my lips brushing over her racing heartbeat. She whimpered, the sound soft and broken, and something primal in me answered with a growl.
“Say it again.” My thumb slid along the inside of her wrist, reminding her of my strength, the iron lock she couldn’t break even if she tried.
“Please,” she whispered again, her eyes fluttering closed.
I let her feel the pause, the slow drag of seconds as I breathed her in. Mint shampoo. The faintest trace of vanilla lotion. The scent that clung to my sheets long after she was gone.
Long after she was climbing into Jake’s bed. Or curling up in Aaron’s arms on the couch.
The jealousy hit me like it always did, a sucker punch to the ribs. Ugly, hot, unwelcome. I hated it. Hated how it carved me hollow even in moments like this, when I had her under me, trembling for me, whispering my name.
I should’ve been satisfied. She was here. With me. But some greedy, selfish part of me wanted all of her. Every second. Every kiss. Every breath.
“Matt…” Her voice cracked again, pulling me back from the spiral.
I kissed her jaw, my lips grazing the delicate line of her cheekbone until I reached her mouth. Her breath mingled with mine, ragged and desperate. “You trust me?” I whispered, my lips brushing hers.
Her eyes opened. Wide. Shining. Unflinching. “Always.”
And just like that, the sharpness in my chest eased. The jealousy dulled, replaced by the heady rush of her trust. That was what made me weak. Not her body, not the sex, not the way she writhed beneath me.
It was the way she never hesitated.
I kissed her—hard, fast, claiming—and her gasp was swallowed in the press of my mouth. She bucked beneath me, her wrists pulling again, testing my hold. I tightened my grip, forcing her still. “Mine,” I growled against her lips.
Her eyes fluttered shut. “Yours.”
The word poured molten heat through me. I groaned, shifting my weight so I could free one hand, sliding it down her ribs, over the dip of her waist, lower still until my palm cupped the curve of her hip.
She arched into the touch, desperate, and I smiled against her throat.
I wanted to drag this out. To make her beg until her voice went hoarse. To hold her here in this limbo where she belonged only to me. But my own control was fraying, threads snapping one by one as her body twisted under mine.
“Matt…” she gasped again, a warning, a plea, a demand.
I pressed my forehead to hers, eyes locking on her flushed face. “You don’t know what you do to me,” I rasped. “You drive me fucking insane. Every time you look at me like I’m the only one, I almost believe it. And then I remember I’m not.”
Her lips parted, confusion clouding her gaze. “Matt—”
“Don’t,” I cut in, the word rough. “Don’t lie to me. I know you love us all. I know you split yourself three ways. But when you’re in my bed? When you’re under me?” I pressed harder, grinding against her until her breath hitched. “You’re mine. Say it.”
Her eyes shone, defiance flickering there even as her body betrayed her. Her legs shifted, spreading wider, her chest rising faster. “Yours,” she whispered. Then louder, firmer: “I’m yours, Matt.”
My chest ached. My body burned.
And still, it wasn’t enough.
I kissed her again, bruising and hard, pouring every ounce of jealousy, of need, of desperate love into her mouth. She whimpered against me, and the sound shattered me completely.
I released her wrists and grabbed her face, holding her steady as I kissed her like I’d never kiss anyone else again. My other hand slid lower, teasing, claiming, and her body jerked violently beneath me.
Her nails dug into my shoulders. Her moans broke against my mouth. And when she finally shattered, crying out my name, I followed her over the edge with a groan torn straight from my chest.
For a long time, neither of us moved. The only sound was our breathing, harsh and tangled together.
I shifted onto my side, dragging her with me until she was pressed against my chest, her head tucked under my chin.
She clung to me, her body still trembling in the aftermath. “Matt,” she whispered again, softer this time.
“Shh.” I kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair. “I’ve got you, baby. Always.” And God help me, I meant it. Even if tomorrow she’d be whispering the same promise to Jake. Or Aaron.
I closed my eyes, holding her tighter, willing myself to believe that this—this moment, this heartbeat—was enough. Because if I didn’t, the jealousy would eat me alive.
