Savage Dom Read online Jane Henry (Savage Island #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Savage Island Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
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I took jugs of sunscreen with me because fair girls like me burn easily, but I’ve gotten used to limiting my exposure to the sun and staying in the shade to avoid being burned. I have the lightest tan now, and only burned once, but on the island, there are enough trees I can hide beneath during the full blare of the sun.

I miss Daniel. And if I’m honest? I’m even missing my work. Still, I’m not going to pretend this isn’t stunningly beautiful. I feel as if I’ve stepped foot straight into paradise.

I find a waterfall a few yards from the main beach and take a seat on a rock. Though the cruise ship’s been delightful, being alone like this is more my speed. I wish I had more time to explore, but I don’t want to get lost, so I get up after a few minutes and go in search of some photogenic places.

I wonder what Ben’s doing right now. Is he celebrating his birthday again? I smile to myself. Though it’s been devastating to see my baby brother regress after the accident, his childlike simplicity inspires me. There’s an ache inside me being apart from him.

I shake my head. I’m here to enjoy myself, not pine away for home.

Since I ate a substantial breakfast, I don’t even think about food or water for a while, as I explore the beauty of this island. I put my backpack down and take out my camera, marking where I put it so I don’t lose it. I don’t want its weight on me while I take some pictures.

The first picture I take is of a beautiful white flower with a yellow center in full bloom, the second the waterfall hidden in the woods. Birds tweet overhead, but at times it’s almost silent here. I’m so focused on taking pictures, I don’t hear anything but my own thoughts as I focus the lens on the beauty that surrounds me.

But after a little while, I start to feel as if I’m being watched. I look around me, but none of the other passengers have ventured this far. I look to my left and then my right.

“Hello?” I ask into the vast emptiness, but of course no one replies.

The first clue that tells me it isn’t my imagination and I’m not alone is the snapping of twigs. I look all around me but see no one at all.

“Who’s there?” I yell out, but my voice only echoes back to me. Then something flashes in front of me. I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands. That wasn’t an animal but a person.

He passes several yards in front of me again, running.

What the hell?

It’s not a passenger, though. No, it couldn’t be. His clothes were torn into shreds, his hair hanging about him in wild, unkempt light brown strands.

The skin at the back of my neck prickles, little goosebumps rising on my arms.

Are there natives on this island?

Was it a man? Or an animal? He looked somewhere in between, if I’m honest.

“Who is it?” I yell. I don’t see him, but footsteps draw closer. I look wildly around me for some sort of weapon, anything at all I can use to defend myself, because I know intuitively I’m in danger. My belly ties itself in knots.

Would anyone hear me if I screamed? Would I be attacked?

I need to get back to the ship, but cast one more final, wild look around me. All I see is a large stick, but it’s better than nothing. I pick it up, even though I have no idea what to actually do with the thing.

“Where are you? Who are you?” I scream, but my voice echoes around me. My pulse races and the stick slips in my sweaty hands, when I hear him breathing behind me. I spin around with a hysterical scream. It is indeed a man, but something about him is wild and rabid.

He lunges at me, his arms outstretched, his eyes hugely wide and terrifying. I barely register what’s happening, wildly jabbing my stick at him with another terrified scream, but he dodges me and yanks it from my grip.

“Leave me alone!” I scream, words are my only weapon now, but he merely tosses the stick to the side and lunges at me, his hands at my throat. I slap at him, and on instinct knee him between the legs. He easily deflects my knee and slaps me across the face, hard. My cheek stings and blood fills my mouth. I’m whimpering and flailing when he grabs me in his ferocious grasp and throws me to the ground.

I tear at him, my fingernails clawing at his arms and neck, but he only hits me again. I’m dizzy with pain, and I know I’m no match for him. He’s so much stronger and more vicious than I am. I’m crying and begging, when he yanks up my dress and shoves it up higher, then to my horror, grabs my panties and tears them down my legs. I realize with terrifying, vivid awareness that he’s going to assault me. Oh, God, he’s going to rape me.


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