Touch: Book 1 of the Savage Bond Series

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Summary

They say the bond chooses you, but what happens when the truth threatens to break it? After the tragic death of her fiancé, Amina’s world has been nothing but loss and lingering shadows. Two years later, one electrifying encounter at a gala threatens to reignite everything she thought she buried—especially when her body, her soul, begins to respond to a stranger like it never had to the man she once loved. Malachai Rendell is hardened by loss and bound by vengeance. He never expected to find a second-chance mate—let alone someone as human, intoxicating, and maddening as Amina. But the bond doesn’t lie, and every touch ignites something he cannot control. None of this changes the fact that some bonds are built on lies. When secrets surface and enemies close in Solina and Malachai are forced to confront their pasts as they are simultaneously thrusted into a web of betrayal, blood, and truths that could destroy them. When love and fate collide with vengeance, only one will survive. It all started with a simple touch.

Status
Complete
Chapters
40
Rating
4.9 16 reviews
Age Rating
18+

Chapter 1| No Control

I couldn't breathe, the anticipation had built up so much in me, twisting a knot that lodged in the base of my throat preventing any air from escaping.

Too frazzled, too excited, good God, if this is what it going to be like when I'm in his presence, I surely would not survive it a second time.

I felt the heat radiating off of his body before I felt his touch. One finger, a simple caress down my spine had me shuddering where I stood.

I swear my body grew hotter and hotter by the minute. He removed his finger and just as quickly, the heat he brought with it vanished.

I craved his touch, I wanted it so bad now that I'd had a taste, and the more I thought of it, the more the desire for him to touch me grew.

He hadn't moved though; even with my back to him I was so aware of his presence, so in tune with his movements, like some imaginary force tethered me to him.

Oddly enough I could feel the smirk on his face, I could sense his satisfaction from his stance. He had me right where he wanted me, and he knew that I knew.

What made his victory all the sweeter was him knowing that I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

I was fire and he was oxygen, feeding my flames, and I had no control-not over the heat, not over the pressure bubbling up inside of me, trying so hard to overcome the bulge transfixed in my throat.

I felt him lean in, and when his lips lightly brushed the tip of my ear, the wave of ecstasy that rushed through me had me closing my eyes in a poor attempt to diminish a sense so that I might enjoy this feeling a little while longer.

He paused a moment, letting the tension build; grasping onto the windowsill with all my might was all I could do to keep my knees from giving out.

He snaked his hand around my neck, taking hold of my throat. The fire was raging, the pressure had become too much, I wanted to cry, to scream, to beg even. I was a sweaty, trembling mess!

I needed to breathe, I needed, I needed-before I could finish my thought, he brought my ear closer to his mouth and whispered, "Release."