Page 31 of The Devil's Scars

“Yep.”

“So is this an OK thing to do while you’re naked?” he asked, his right hand sliding between her legs, and cupping her pussy. “Meets with your approval?”

“Erm,” she said, catching her breath as her slick arousal actually pooled into his palm. “Yes.”

“Good to know.” Scars rubbed her slowly, making sure to put pressure on her clit. “And this? Also OK?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” His fingers were inside her now, probing gently, and her knees started to shake beneath her. “This?”

But Zoe couldn’t actually articulate an answer this time. His touch was just so good, and it had been so long, and she was so ready. He smiled again, watching her helpless response to this small touch, loving the passion and honesty of her response.

Without a word, he pushed her down onto the sofa behind her, her knees splayed, her feet on the floor. He knelt in front of her, used his broad shoulders to push her legs farther apart. He dipped his head, then paused, looked up at her.

“Yes?” he grated out. “Is this OK?”

She nodded frantically, seconds away from begging. God, when was the last time that a guy had done this for her? Years, right? And then, oh dear God, Scars’ mouth was on her most sensitive, secret flesh, giving her that most intimate, aching caress… and Zoe forgot about thinking. She forgot about everything except his mouth on her pussy, his tongue in her pussy, his lips kissing her pussy.

Scars knew that she was close already, and he also knew that he didn’t want her to come that quickly. Yeah, he was a cruel, sadistic bastard in some ways… but he got the feeling that Zoe hadn’t been with anyone for a while, and that she missed physical connection.

He wanted to do something special and amazing for her: he wanted her to come from the most intense, the closest, physical connection that there was. He wanted her to come on his cock, in his arms. And seeing as how he was already leaking pre-cum and counting backwards from one hundred to keep his excitement in check, he’d better get to that.

Scars leaned back and away, and Zoe moaned in disappointment and frustration – until she opened her eyes and saw him undressing. Delighted beyond belief suddenly, she sat up to watch. He kicked off his boots and jeans first, then his cut and t-shirt.

When his shirt hit the floor, she blinked at his huge body of angles and planes and taut muscles. Unable to stop herself, she stood up again, ran her fingers over his broad chest, felt his heartbeat quicken under her touch.

Slowly, she stroked the thick, raised scars scattered over his upper body, the numerous tattoos (especially an incredible one of what looked like the Tree of Life in a garden), the dark hair that peppered his hard pecs, and then ran in a line down his muscled abdomen. Her fingers followed the line until it reached the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts and she paused.

“Your turn to be naked,” she said saucily. “May I?”

He smiled at her. “You absolutely may, baby.”

Zoe lowered his boxers and she watched as he sprang free. At the sight of him, her pussy gave a spasm and her rosy nipples hardened. He was perfect – long and thick – and he was going to feel incredible.

Scars took her in his arms again, kissed her. She opened to him, and his tongue stroked her mouth, softly probing her. Zoe thought about his tongue and cock doing that to her lower lips and her legs started to shake.

He opened the drawer in the low coffee table next to the sofa, pulled out a condom. She blinked a bit, and he paused.

“I don’t have my own,” he said. “I never – I mean, I wasn’t expecting this, Zoe. These are for anyone to use, like club supplies. Is that OK?”

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t have any, either. I – well. I also didn’t come here tonight prepared.”

“And yet here we are,” he said softly. “This really OK?”

In response, she took the condom from him, opened the foil wrapper. He muttered a curse under his breath, and she watched fascinated as his large hand went to his cock and stroked. She was stunned at what a turn-on she found that, and she couldn’t look away as he moved over his hardness, over and over.

“You like that?” he asked between gritted teeth. “Watching me touch myself?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

“Condom, baby.” He held out one hand, still stroking with the other. “Now.”

She handed it over, watched as he rolled it down his incredible length. Then she gave a little scream when Scars grabbed her around the waist, sat down on the sofa, pulled her down into his lap. She balanced herself on his shoulders, surprised that he’d want her on top.

He kissed her, his hands running over her breasts, down the curve of her hips, then lower. He gently set her knees down on either side of his thighs, and delved between her legs again, skimming over her pussy, just brushing her lightly with a whisper of a touch. She closed her eyes and held her breath, silently begging for him to stroke her there.

Instead, Scars reached up and tugged at the clip holding her hair back. Her golden curls fell over her shoulders and around her face like a shimmering waterfall, loose and warm – and just like that, Zoe went from breath-stealing to heart-stopping.

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