Page 137 of Scars Run Deep

It afforded me the window I needed to hook my leg around his knee, wrench it out from under him, then follow through with another sharp twist to destabilize him further, while he grunted from the knee thing. As he shifted, his upper body lifting off me slightly in reaction to it, I rammed my head back.

Another grunt told me I’d connected. Hard.

More of his weight left me, enough for me to scramble out from under him finally.

I rolled to my side, then flipped back to my feet.

Blood ran down one of his nostrils and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, then grinned and crooked his finger at me.

Emboldened by escaping from that difficult hold, I ran at him.

He surprised me, catching me around the waist instead of defending himself.

I wailed on him, but he took all the punishment, and followed through with what he was doing, until he slammed me up against the chain-link.

His palms came down either side of my head and he shoved his hard body into my softness.

He didn’t just pin me then, he rolled his hips, making me feel his huge erection against my bare stomach.

It had a choked gasp leaving me, mingling with my heavy panting.

“My mistake, when I said you were fucked back there, I meant you’re about to be.”

Movement beyond him caught my eye and I looked to see Jonah and Killian striding into the ring, stripping as they went.

Oh God.

My core clenched in anticipation.

Asher leaned in and licked the sweat off the tops of my breasts, his talented tongue that should be outlawed, sending jolts of pleasure through me.

He bit down on my nipples through my sports bra and I threw my head back on a moan.

“I know you’re upset I benched you,” he said, as he trailed a hand down my body, in a teasing erotic motion that had me undulating against the chain-link wall. “But I know you also recognize it’s needed, that you are on the edge and despite your protestations, you don’t want to go over it.”

“Oh, God!” I cried as he squeezed my pussy through my pants.

“So there’s something else going on here.” He trailed his fingers along my waistband. “Isn’t there, little beast?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “I…” He jerked my pants and panties down to my knees with a rough tug.

“Say it,” he ordered, as he guided them off my legs, making me lift for him to help without even needing to say the words. “Get it off your chest.”

“I… I don’t want you to get hurt. I… I can’t lose you.”

“There it is.” He pulled my sports bra off and tossed it over the wall, baring me to him—to them all—fully. He pinched my nipples, drawing little whines of need from me. “Ready to let it all out, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I gasped, the haze of desire and unyielding need overwhelming me as I looked at each of them in turn.

He smiled and dropped his hands.

I couldn’t stand it, him no longer touching me. The loss of it.

All the frustration, the fear, the intensity breached the surface, and then I was launching myself at him and yanking on his hair and forcing his mouth to mine.

He responded just as harshly, fucking my mouth with his tongue within seconds, ravishing me, completely consuming me and taking utter possession.

It sparked the animal in me to life and then I was raking my nails down his chest, scratching all the way down, pearls of blood trailing along the red-raw paths. He groaned into my mouth, the sound sending a thrill through me.

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