Page 24 of Scar

“You’re mine, Allegra,” I whisper, my lips brushing against her skin. “Every part of you.”

Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t reply. Her silence is a challenge, one I’m eager to accept. I lower my head again, this time pressing a kiss to the cut, my tongue darting out to soothe the sting. She shudders, and I feel a surge of satisfaction, knowing I can affect her this way.

“Scar,” she breathes, her voice a mix of frustration and yearning, longing. She wants me just as much as I want her. I just need her to say the words.

I pull back, my gaze lingering on the cut, now clean, as though it was never there. I brush my thumb over it gently, a gesture that’s almost tender. Don’t forget it,” I say softly, the warning clear in my tone.

She meets my eyes, and for a moment, we’re locked in a battle of wills, each daring the other to break. But then she blinks, and the moment passes, leaving only the electric tension between us.

Allegra’s breath hitches, her chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the warring emotions tearing at her resolve. Slowly, deliberately, I let my hand trail down her side, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. She doesn’t move away.

“Scar,” she says again, but this time, there’s a softness in her voice, a plea hidden beneath the surface.

I let the silence hang between us, but my hands keep moving. I pull the dress gently over her shoulders and down her arms, ever so gently to avoid it scraping against her skin, until the gown is gathered in a wet heap behind her.

I step closer, closing the distance between us. My lips hover just above hers, close enough to feel the heat of her breath. “Say it, Allegra. Give me the words.”

Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll push me away. But then she tilts her head slightly, her lips parting. “I want you,” she whispers, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

I don’t need more encouragement. I capture her lips in a searing kiss, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her against me. She responds instantly, her body folding into mine, herfingers tangling in my hair. The kiss deepens, a dance of need and desire, each of us pouring everything into the moment.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, our foreheads resting together. Her lips are swollen with my bruising punishment, a kiss that stains her heart with permanence. There’s no coming back from this. She may be my wife on paper, but now I mean to make her mine in every sense of the word.

“Allegra?”

I need to know that this is what she wants. She nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it’s enough. The walls between us have crumbled, leaving nothing but raw, unfiltered heat.

I lower my head, pressing kisses along her jawline, down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. Her hands roam over my back, clutching at the fabric of my shirt, as though needing something solid to hold onto.

“Scar,” she murmurs, a soft sigh that sends a thrill through me. I pull back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. They’re dark with desire, no longer guarded but open and vulnerable. I know she’s never been with anyone; I made sure to have her followed from the moment she turned eight. She’s been waiting for me, and everything I’ve done up until now has led me to this moment. Has brought us to this time and place.

“Allegra,” I reply, my voice a promise, no longer seeking. And with that, I lift her into my arms, carrying her to the bed, where we both surrender to the storm that’s been angrily brewing between us.

CHAPTER 22 – ALLEGRA

Scar lays me on the bed. My bed, because that’s where we were when he was helping me out of a dress I’ll never wear again. He circles the bed slowly, just watching me, his eyes scanning every inch of my body. I feel self-conscious, but at the same time, a deep thread of need spears through me. I am on display, but it looks like he’s enjoying the show, which makes me feel wantonly beautiful.

He circles the bed like a predator, watching me as he loosens his tie. Loses the jacket. Unbuttons his shirt. He takes his time, making me crazy with desire. His shirt is open, and Oh My God, what is that!?! He’s pure muscle and iron, ink glancing along his chest. He drops his pants until he’s standing naked in front of me. My breath catches. He’s ready and hard, his cock slapping against his stomach.

He stops at the foot of the bed and faces me, his eyes hooded as he zooms in on my pussy. I feel a thin line of liquid pooling between my legs before it rolls down and taints the bedsheets. I don’t care. All I care about is this throbbing ache between my legs, this itch that I need scratched. I don’t even care that it’s Scar who will get the best of me; I just want him in this way, and I want him now. Regardless of what comes tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to feel something.

Scar’s grey eyes shimmer as he tracks the glistening movement between my legs. I watch as he swallows, a thoughtful look in his eyes. I can see that he’s questioning himself. Considering if this is the wisest move. He’s wondering if he’s making the right choice, but right now, I need him to calm the burgeoning explosion that threatens to erupt inside me.

He climbs onto the bed and settles between my legs. The anticipation has me flinching, but I recover quickly by lifting my bottom off the bed in welcome. Asking him to come and take me.

“Already so wet,” he whispers, wiping a finger through my folds. He lifts his finger to his mouth and takes it whole, wiping it clean. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. I feel more liquid gathering as I watch him playing out every moment, bit by bit.

When he bends his head between my legs, it’s all I can do to stop myself from bucking off the bed. I watch from beneath hooded eyes as he slides his tongue from the bottom upwards, until he reaches my clit. One long lapping movement. He sits back on the balls of his feet and claims my eyes, letting me see the desire in them as he swallows, before he lowers again and starts to lick. He licks me up and down, his tongue navigating through my folds, until I can’t help but buck against his mouth. My heart rate accelerates as I climb and climb and climb and…oh my God, this is what they must be talking about in those books I read. I feel like I’m climbing up the side of a mountain and I’m almost at the top - I need to get to the top. When suddenly, he moves his tongue away and locks his mouth against my clit, sucking it ferociously. Denying me the top of the mountain.

I gasp, my hands clutching at the sheets, my body straining towards him. “Scar,” I manage to whisper, the word escaping my lips in a breathless plea.

He looks up, his eyes dark and filled with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that drives deep within me.

He shifts, his hands gliding up my thighs, spreading them wider. His touch is gentle, reverent, as though he’s worshipping every inch of me. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but in the best possible way. His fingers trace patterns on my skin, teasing, coaxing me to relax.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

I nod, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yes,” I breathe, the word carrying all the weight of my trust in him.

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