Page 88 of Sixty Days Of Summer

A sexy grin curls at the corner of his mouth as he replies, “I love it when you fucking take control. I love it when you’re so fucking dirty.” He lifts me up effortlessly, guiding me toward the bed, then sets me on my feet.

“Lay down,” I command, gesturing to the bed.

He lifts his hands, tugging his shirt over his head, then leans back on his elbows, his eyes fixed on me, watching my every move. I undo the button and zipper on his jeans, sliding them down slowly along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock as it springs free, lightly grazing his stomach.

Lying back, he threads his fingers behind his head, his gaze intense and unwavering. I can’t help but admire the ink sprawled across his chest, the designs trailing up over both shoulders. The intricate patterns and musical notes are mesmerizing, each telling a story that only he knows. But myeyes always gravitate to the skull in the center of his chest, its bony fingers wrapped around it, obscuring its eye sockets. It feels like a haunting symbol of his past, a reminder of the battles he has endured.

I’ve always wanted to ask him about it, to understand what it means, but I hesitated, not wanting to bring up painful memories. Now that he’s more open and facing his demons, I decide to take a chance. “Is this the pain you’ve carried?” I ask, my fingers softly tracing the long, bony fingers of the tattoo.

When he doesn’t answer, I glance up and catch him watching my fingers glide across his skin, his gaze intense. I can feel the scars beneath the ink—each one a reminder of his past struggles, like the cigarette burns on his arms he tries so hard to hide.

“Yeah,” he finally replies, his voice low and raw. “It’s how I’ve always felt. Like no matter how hard I tried, those fingers always probed into my thoughts, dragging me back into that dark world.”

As my fingers trace down his chest, I notice goosebumps rising under my touch. I slide my hands lower, exploring his abdomen, then wrap my fingers around his cock, giving him a soft stroke. Feeling bold, I lean in closer, my tongue flicking out to taste the milky drop on the tip. The moan that comes from him sends a thrill through me, fueling my desire.

His hands lower to his sides, fingers clenching tightly as if he’s battling the urge to tangle them in my hair and command me to open my mouth so he can fuck it. I watch his nostrils flare as I repeat the teasing action.

“Fuck, Scar,” he breathes, his voice dripping with affection.

A surprised squeal escapes me as he suddenly pulls me on top of him, his lips crashing against mine in a scorching kiss. The heat of his mouth sparks a hunger inside me, one I can’t ignore. I bite his bottom lip softly, urging for more. His kiss grows deeper,intense and commanding, his fingers splaying against my neck while the other hand grips my hip, holding me still as he takes what he craves.

A gentle pinch on my nipple makes me gasp, urging me to grind against him, lost in the heat of the moment. I'm so aroused that I could scream. Gasping for air, I pull back from the kiss and whisper, “I need you to fuck me, Ace. Fuck me now.”

“You don’t have to ask, just take it, Scar,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “It’s fucking yours whenever you want it.”

His words make me grind across his hard cock. Oh, my God. Every bump and vein is perfectly designed to drive me wild with pleasure.

“Christ,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with lust. “Your pretty pussy is drenching my cock.” The heat in his eyes sharpens as he reaches down and grips himself, his gaze locked on me. “Rub it on your clit,” he commands, his voice rough.

Wrapping my fingers around him, I take control, savoring the power I have over him. His eyes drop, fixed on my hand. “That’s it,” he whispers, teeth clenched as I trace the sensitive area.

A moan slips from my lips as I indulge further, getting lost in the sensation.

“Fuck, I bet that feels good,” he says.

“So fucking good,” I moan, but it’s not just the sensations of his cock and piercing that have me entranced. It’s the way he watches me, his eyes dark with desire, lips parted just enough to reveal his hunger.

I quicken my pace, rubbing his cock against my clit, the overwhelming pleasure building inside me. I’m so incredibly wet, teetering on the edge of my release.

“Fuck, I can feel you throbbing on my cock,” he breathes, tilting his head back, eyes closing as he loses himself in the moment. His hands grip my hips hard, anchoring me to him.

And now I want it even more. I need him inside me like I need my next breath. “I need your cock in me when I come,” I confess, the words spilling from my lips with desperation.

He snaps his eyes open and sits up, pulling me closer with an arm wrapped around my lower back. His deep, husky voice does something to me when he whispers, “I want my cock inside you too.”

Goosebumps ripple across my skin. Our eyes lock as he slowly enters me, stretching me to accommodate every hard inch of him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, sliding his thumb down to tease my clit while I ride him.

His feral kiss ignites something in me, each thrust is pure bliss. Then it happens spectacularly. The orgasm hits like a tidal wave, crashing over me in a rush of intense pleasure. Fuck it feels so good. I gasp, pleasure erupting, my back arching, and every nerve-ending screaming.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, lost in the overwhelming pleasure.

A deep growl rumbles in his throat as my pussy tightens around him. His forehead rests against mine, his strong chest rising and falling, as if he’s just experienced his own release. In a blissful haze, I lean into him.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me so close that there’s no space left between us. The intensity of what I’m feeling is almost overwhelming. His breath brushes my skin, warm and inviting, as our foreheads remain pressed together. I can see his restraint etched on his face, the way his fingers tangle in my hair.

My heart races as I take in every detail of his face—the sharp angles, the heat radiating from his eyes, and the palpable torment etched into his features. It’s clear that holding himself still, while buried deep inside me, and not moving is a battle he’sbarely winning. Yet, despite the struggle, he fights against the overwhelming urge, determined to satisfy my every need.

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