Page 65 of Pretty Little Scars

“That’s right. Tell me what you need. Use your words, beautiful girl.”

“God, I need you inside me.”

“Iaminside you.” His smile is smug, and I squeeze his ass, digging my nails into his flesh. “Ah, love your hands.”

“I need your cock inside me,” I tell him. “Please.”

His eyes dilate, and he nudges his way between my thighs.

“I was going to take my time with you this morning,” he informs me before sucking a nipple between his lips and giving a little pull, making my core tighten and my hips lift toward him in invitation. “I was going to make you come on my face before I gave you my cock.”

“Please.”

“But the way you beg is too fucking tempting.” He kisses my shoulder as I reach between us and wrap my hand around his hard length, making him suck in a quick breath. His eyes narrow on me, and I move my hand up and down his shaft three times before rubbing my thumb over the tip, spreading the little bead of need pooled there. “Jesus, Duchess.”

“Need you,” I tell him, guiding him to my entrance. “Right now.”

He notches just the tip inside, and I hold onto his arms as he pushes all the way in so fucking slowly I grit my teeth.

“I only get to sink inside you for the first timeonce,” he informs me. “And I’m going to fucking savor it.”

Christ, the things this man says should be illegal.

When he’s seated fully, his forehead tips down to mine.

“Tucker,” I whisper, and that seems to be all he needs to start moving. At first, his strokes are long and slow, filling me up so completely, and then taking it away again.

“This tight cunt was made for me,” he growls as he starts to move faster. “Jesus, I can’t hold back.”

“I don’t want you to hold back.” I grip onto the nape of his neck, holding on as his hips slam against me, pushing harder and harder and grinding against my clit each time. “Oh fuck. Tucker, I’m gonna?—”

“Not yet.” He pulls out, making me gasp, and sucks my nipple back in his mouth. “You’ll come when I say you can and not a minute before.”

“Tucker.”

He lifts an eyebrow, and I realize that this is a side to this man that I haven’t seen before. He’s usually so laid back, sogo with the flow, and now he’s intense and in charge, and I fuckinglove it.

“I’m going to make you come but not fucking yet.” He shakes his head and kisses his way down my torso, leaving wet marks that feel cool from the morning air, and I can’t help but squirm beneath him. But when he pushes my legs up, my knees to my chest, and laps at my center, I cry out, twisting against the bed.

“Fuck!”

He pushes up on his knees and then slams back inside me, and I see stars.

Motherfucking stars.

“Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.”

“Jesus, look at you. So flushed and swollen. Sopping wet.” He’s pounding in and out of me, and when I lick my fingers and cover my clit, his eyes narrow. “Did I say you could do that?”

I lift an eyebrow and don’t stop, and he takes my hand away, kisses my fingertips, and then replaces them with his own thumb, making me whimper.

“I get to control this clit,” he says. “Iownyour orgasms. Do you understand me?”

Holy fucking Moses in stilettos.

“Answer me.”

I nod, but he doesn’t like that.