Page 39 of Scar

I slowly stir awake,feeling all warm and cosy. Blinking a few times, memories of where I am come to me. I tense when I realise that I’m buried face to chest with Scar. Both of us are laid on our sides, my leg is draped over his hip, and my other leg is tangled with his. His arm is draped over me holding me close, like he’s cuddling a teddy. I close my eyes as I breathe in his scent, wanting to dart my tongue out and lick him to see if he tastes as good as he smells. Instead, I slowly inhale, savouring the heady mixture of the fresh woodsy scent of his cologne and the smell of fresh air leather that just seems to be on him. A small sigh escapes my lips and I immediately tense, worried I have woken him.

His hand flexes on my lower back, slowly moving over the curve of my cheek. He gives it a gentle squeeze and a deep groan rumbles in his throat.

I go to lean my head back to see if he’s awake, but the movement tugs on my stitches. I immediately hiss, stopping my movement.

“What’s the matter, Angel?” he asks, his voice coming out deep and husky. When I don’t answer he shifts, slowly rolling me onto my back, nestling his body between my legs. His sleepyeyes, full of concern search mine. My cheeks heat when I feel the firmness of his body, but also the very hard morning wood that is nestled right at my centre, and all I can think isdon’t move, don’t move.He cocks his head, his lips tipping up at the edges. “You’re looking a little flush. You feeling okay?” he asks, knowing damn well why I am flush.

“I’m fine. The stitches just pulled a little and well, being in this position is er, well it’s...” I pause, trying to find the right word. “It’s erotic,” I say, feeling my blush deepen in my cheeks. This just makes Scar smile wider.

“Angel, if you think this position is erotic, give me time and I will blow your fucking mind.” As he says the words, it’s like my traitorous hips have a mind of their own and shift up, looking for friction. A deep groan vibrates from his chest. “That ain’t happening.”

I cover my face with my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. “I am so sorry,” I mumble from behind my hands. “I don’t know what got into me. I have never done that before, and I have never wanted or felt the need to do that.”

He pulls my hands from my face, and I’m expecting to see a look of amusement at how incredibly stupid I am for making a fool out of myself. Instead, he looks down at me like he’s trying to withhold something. “You’ve never felt turned on? Never felt like you wanted a man before?” he asks, his voice low.

I’m a little scared to answer, afraid what his reaction might be. What is the right answer? I’ve touched myself, and I’ve read romance novels, but I’ve never looked at Layton and wanted him.

“I—” I pause.

“Don’t ever hold back with me. You can say whatever is on your mind with me,” he assures me, as if he’s reading my mind.

I look to the side, avoiding eye contact with him and breathe the words out in a rush, like ripping off a band aid. “I’ve touchedmyself, and I’ve read romance novels, but I have never desired a man. I never wanted Layton.”

“You told him no and he still...” Scar pauses, unable to finish the sentence. I can feel his eyes assessing me.

I shrug slightly. “I mean, after a while I stopped fighting it. The more I fought, the more rough he got, and sometimes if I just lay there, he’d hurt me on purpose to get me to react.” I pause, hating how silent he’s gone. “I mean, what I read in those books.” I snort a laugh. “Those ridiculous, multiple orgasms? Yeah, right! I wish they would have been a little honest though, that sex is painful and it’s only the men that enjoy it.” I sigh.

I feel Scar shift, so I brave it and look at him again, watching him as he slowly moves down my body. “I’m going to give you pleasure, right now unless you tell me to stop. Can I give you that?” he asks.

I frown, confused at what he’s doing. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. I look into his eyes and give a small gentle nod. His eyes spark as he glides the T-shirt up to my waist. I immediately tense as I feel his breath tickle across my thighs. His fingers hook under my panties at the sides of my hips, and he glides them slowly down my legs. I shift, helping him to remove them completely, all the while keeping my gaze fixed on a tiny crack on the ceiling. My breathing is rapid and my cheeks are flushed. “You’re fucking stunning,” he compliments softly between placing soft kisses along my lower stomach. He gently pushes my legs apart and I feel him pause for a moment.

I instantly move to clamp my thighs closed. Layton always used to say how hideous my fat thighs were, or how even though I would make sure I was waxed just how he liked it, that even my pussy was a whore’s pussy. That I was lucky I had him, because I wouldn’t get anyone else.

“Look at me,” Scar demands. I look at him, and he has my T-shirt gripped tight in his fists. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

“I, I…” I pause and shake my head no.

“I need you to say the words, Angel. You are in charge of this entire situation, of me. I do what you want me to do,” he states, his eyes searing through mine, showing me that he means every word.

“I don’t want you to stop,” I tell him, my voice barely a whisper. The reason I don’t want him to stop is because he wants to do this, and for yesterday, for what I feel for him, I don’t want to disappoint him. He slowly lowers himself down and I turn my focus back to that small crack in the ceiling as I feel his breath dance across my centre. “Relax Angel,” he says gently as he delicately pushes my legs apart.

My fists clench the sheets, and my heart beats wildly in my chest in anticipation of what’s to come next. I don’t want to tell him I’ve never done this before, although I’m sure he can tell.

Just keep focused on the crack on the ceiling, and don’t ask dumb questions. I wonder what?—

“Woah!” I gasp as I his tongue connects with my clit. I lean up on my elbows and look down on him. His face is nestled between my thighs, and as he looks up at me, his eyes light with amusement as he does that thing with his tongue again. “Holy—” He adds pressure and pleasure I’ve never felt before shoots through me. “Oh!” I moan. My hips buck and he groans, his eyes still watching me as he fucks me with his tongue. No, he doesn’t just fuck me with it. The man is a magician, or a sorcerer, because whatever he is doing has to be magic. I’m not sure what spell he is casting but I am here for it.

My eyes are hooded and my breath is coming out ragged, and I’m sure I look like a panting dog as I watch him, but I can’t look away, loving the way that his eyes burn as he watches me. My muscles tense, and it feels that with each lick, each stroke of histongue, my climax edges closer and closer. Reading my mind, my body, he sucks on my clit, working along with the swirling motion with his tongue. I explode, and my legs clamp around his head, my hips writhing as my orgasm takes hold of my body.

“Oh! Oh fuck!” I scream as my climax hits. Scar moans against my centre, licking everything before he slowly lifts his head, his lips glistening with my arousal. “What was that?” I pant.

He gives me a cocky grin and moves up my body until his face is just millimetres from mine, slowly running his tongue over his lip. “Hmm, hmmm. Your pussy is sweeter than honey,” he groans before taking my mouth. His lips caress mine and I can taste myself on him as his tongue caresses mine. I whimper and he smiles against my lips as he slows the kiss. He lays us down, pulling me to his chest.

I sigh as I listen to his heart beating. As I look down, I see his very hard, very erect dick pitching a tent in his boxers. I clear my throat. “Er, you want to, um, you think... I mean, what about your, erm?” I stutter. He laughs and I push myself up and look at him.

His hand tucks my hair behind my ear as he shakes his head. “It will go down in a minute, well until I eat you out again,” he states.

---