Page 21 of Scorched

It came loose, my panties drooping down my hips.

He grinned and pulled the other ribbon.

I shifted.

They fell away completely.

I stayed standing with my back to him and he unhooked my bra. I tossed it to the floor.

Myles wrapped his arms around me, pulling me back to lean against his chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“You think so?”

He rocked his hips forward in response.

He was hard in his jeans, his erection pressing against my ass.

I whined quietly. “I want you.”

“Help me undress, then.” He chuckled. “I got you out of your clothes pretty fast.”

He had. Now I needed to return the favor.

I stripped him out of his clothes. He kicked his shoes off. His blazer hit the floor; I undid his belt, then his jeans. He unbuttoned his tight-fitting shirt and slid it off while I worked his pants and underwear down.

He looked like a god, golden-skinned and powerful.

I stepped closer.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me toward him. “Bed?”

“Bed.”

Laughing, we stumbled through the cramped apartment to a tiny bedroom. There wasn’t much in it—a small dresser, a bed, a stack of milk crates serving as a nightstand.

It made my heart ache, just a little. He’d meant it when he said he lost almost everything.

I climbed into his bed, opening my arms. Myles followed, leaning into me and kissing me hard.

I wriggled under him, spreading my legs invitingly.

I didn’t need any warm-up. I was ready to go, right now.

He moved to lie over me, his hands sliding up my thighs. He guided me into place, my knees drawn up toward my chest.

I was completely exposed to him, and it was exactly what I wanted.

“Don’t make me beg,” I murmured.

“I like when you beg.”

“Shh.”

He laughed and kissed me again.

I felt the head of his cock press against my entrance.

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