Page 27 of Scarred Hearts

The moment I stepped off the platform, one of the bouncers pulled me to the side, lifting his chin at someone in the packed room. The guy had specifically requested me, and he was wealthy, according to the guard. I shifted my gaze to the stranger and froze. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. Cocoa brown hair, styled in a short quiff, muscular, and a sun-kissed tan.

He was sitting in a black leather chair, sipping on a drink in a lowball glass. I swanned over to him, taking his hand in mine. Something about him exuded mystery and sex. I came from money and danger. I didn’t give a fuck about that. I guided the tall stranger through the showroom with one of his hands on my hip and the other holding his glass.

The moment we were alone in my room, he examined every inch of the interior in silence. I thought he was about to chicken out until he twisted to me, introducing himself. Taking a step closer, he lowered his gaze to mine. I closed the gap between us. The music playing through the room was slow and smooth, with enough bass to make the heart pound with each thump. But I wasn’t sure the music was the reason my heart was thumping. The first three buttons of his shirt were already unbuttoned, and I fidgeted with the fourth.

“Can I touch you too?” he asked, which I thought was polite. Men never asked permission to do anything. They just did it, and I either had to deal with it or slap their hand away. I didn’t play the professional and respectful game the women at Euphoria played when they redirected hands. I didn’t care. I’d put someone in their place if I needed to.

Slowly, I nodded. His already deep-brown eyes darkened with lust and hunger. He set his drink on the nearby table and placed a hand on my waist, the other under my chin. Instantly, I melted at his touch; a reaction I’d never had with any client before. We were like magnets, drawn to one another from the moment our eyes met.

“What can I do for you tonight?” I whispered nervously, which was a foreign emotion to me.

“Make me forget it all.” He ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, growling, “Submit to me,” before bringing his lips to mine.

I melted into his passionate, deep kiss. Kissing wasn’t something I did with clients. I didn’t chance it. With him, I was at his complete mercy. In fact, he’d been the first man I’d kissed since I was thirteen. And that’s when I knew I was fucked.

I was a stripper and an escort. I wasn’t supposed to get lost in the moment. Tyler Prescott had captivated me before he even laid a hand on me, and in that moment when his tongue and hands were all over me, I was willing to risk it all. I’d played the game and submitted to men before in the scene, but with Tyler, when I lowered myself to my knees, I meant it.

The night was as perfect as it could’ve been. We spent hours talking between having incredible sex. We explored kinks, and he taught me the true meaning of Dominant and submissive. Before that, I just thought dominant was being an asshole who fucked hard and talked dirty. While he did that too, he showed me another side I’d never forget.

Unfortunately, just as quick as our night began, it ended the moment he walked out of my room, and I didn’t see him again until Luke brought me to Boston.

Just as if no years had passed, I lowered myself to my knees right there in my foyer, shifting my gaze to the floor. Bending over, he placed his fingers under my chin, gently tilting my eyes up to meet his. His other fingers slipped into my hair. I leaned into his touch, not daring to look away.

Slipping his thumb in between my lips, he coaxed my mouth open. “Take it out.”

Knowing his heart might still be fragile, I paused, giving him a few moments to change his mind.

“Did you forget that I don’t like to repeat myself?” he asked lowly. “Take. It. Out.”

“Yes… sir.” I reached for his black leather belt.

“Eyes on me,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.” I nodded and kept my gaze locked with his as I unbuckled the belt and unfastened his formal slacks, revealing his enormous cock.

It was just as huge and intimidating as I remembered. It was the only cock that had ever stretched me to my absolute limit. Running my palm over his length, I parted my lips in anticipation. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, so many questions I wanted to ask.

Before I could speak, he peered down at me with a mischievous glimmer in his eye. Without warning, he spat into my mouth and then pulled me toward him, guiding his cock inside.

He pumped himself in and out of my mouth gently, giving me a few seconds to adjust before picking up the pace. If tonight was anything like last time, I knew I would soon be pushed to the brink of pleasure and pain. Now, all I could focus on was the taste of him and the overwhelming feeling of being at his mercy once again.

“No one has ever sucked my cock like you, Gia.” He continued to force himself slow and deep inside. “Fuck.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. With each slow and deliberate thrust, he forced himself deeper inside my throat. My body couldn’t resist the intense desire I felt for him, despite trying to fight it off. His cock pressed against the back of my throat, making me gag. I struggled to control the drool threatening to spill out onto the floor. But I didn’t want to disappoint him; I wanted to please him in every way.

He picked up the pace, fucking my mouth with need. I moaned, vibrating his shaft and sending waves of pleasure through us both. The sound of his belt snapping through its loops caught my attention, but I kept my focus on pleasuring him. Suddenly, he yanked my head back by my hair and leaned over, looping the belt around my neck, and pulling me to my feet.

With his fingers curled tightly around the leather, he brought my lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss as we walked backward toward the living room. His lips moved from mine and lowered down to my neck, nibbling, licking, and kissing every inch of my sensitive skin. My back hit the cool glass of the window behind me as his hand ventured between my thighs. I eagerly spread them apart to give him full access as he slid aside my thong. Passion and lust radiated between us, and we couldn’t keep our hands off one another.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head,” I confessed, feeling both exhilarated and petrified at the same time. My heart raced as I waited for his reaction, bracing myself for rejection or, even worse, indifference.

Instead, his response was to deepen our kiss, his middle finger sliding inside me. I couldn’t hold back a moan as he added a second finger, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I pressed against him, trying to convey my desire without scaring him away.

He pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmured, “Good girl.” His other hand moved to cup my rear, pulling me against him as he continued to pleasure me against the glass. He wanted anyone passing by below to see us in our intense moment.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered huskily. “I need to feel your pussy squeezing my cock. It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you.”

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