Page 86 of The Devil's Scars

With a curse, Scars pulled out of her eager little mouth. God, as much as he wanted to come in her supple, grasping throat, he wanted to come on her hot little body more. He hauled her to her feet, grabbed a cushion from one of the porch chairs, and set it on the railing. Her eyes flared with excitement when she understood what he was going to do, and when he lifted her and gently sat her on the cushion, she smiled.

“What are you smiling at, beautiful?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair. “You happy?”

“Yes,” she said, and he believed her. “I’m happy with you.”

Scars grabbed the condom and stroked his massive erection for a few seconds, knowing that she loved that. She watched his hand, feeling her pussy spasm and twitch, wishing that it was her mouth on him again. He opened the condom, and she bit her lip when he rolled it on quickly, then stepped between her legs, wrapped them around his hips once more. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her lower lips, and she threw back her head and called his name.

“Ready, baby?” he said, teasing her, pushing in an inch, then retreating, pushing in again, pulling out. “Or should we eat those croissants that you brought over?”

She growled at him now, a feral, female sound of need and impatience, and dug her fingernails into his ass and lower back, raked them across his flesh. He gasped, loving that she was going to leave marks on him again, then entered her in one strong, smooth stroke.

“Ah!” Zoe cried as her body opened to him, then clamped down hard. “Scars – my God…”

“Tell me when you’re coming,” he whispered in her ear as he started to make sexy little figure-eights with his hips, deep inside her. “I want to know, so you tell me. And I want to come on your breasts, Zoe… is that OK?”

She nodded, and he knew she was sinking into her pleasure now and going non-verbal. He kissed her, and started to thrust in a building rhythm, faster, faster, faster again, telling her how amazing she felt around him, and she moved with Scars, moved over and over, and she felt him inside her, thick and hard and so hot – and suddenly Zoe’s entire existence shrank to her wild, frantic, blossoming need.

“Now,” she whimpered, barely able to form the word. “Now, now, now!”

“Fuck, yes,” he said, loving how she shook and melted around him. “Come for me, beautiful. Come hard.”

Unable to do anything except what he told her, Zoe’s world went black, then exploded into stars, over and over again. She was still coming in tiny bursts when Scars pulled out of her, and him rubbing his fingers against her clit while he yanked off the condom extended her pleasure, set it off once more.

“Oh!” she cried, unable to believe that it was happening again. “Now, now!”

“That’s my good girl,” he breathed, stroking himself fast and hard. “Come with me this time. Come on, baby… give me one more. Now.”

She sobbed as her second orgasm crashed over her, and Scars groaned as he gave up all control, and just released over her perfect breasts. Zoe gasped, loving the sticky heat on her, feeling like this man had just claimed her in all the ways that truly mattered.

“God, yes,” he said, thinking that he could die here and now, and be the happiest man alive. “Zoe… you’re amazing, baby.”

She touched her glistening chest, moved her hand to her mouth. She held his eyes as she sucked his pleasure off her fingers, thinking that he tasted like pure, unapologetic, animal lust.

“You filthy girl,” he said thickly, his chest still heaving. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”

She smiled at him, and she was radiantly lovely. His angel with the soul of the sweetest sinner he’d ever known, his reason for believing in fifth chances.

“Does this mean that you want to keep me, handsome?”

“Hell, yeah.” Scars lowered his lips to hers, and was astonished that he was hardening again already, that he wanted her again so soon. “I’m keeping you, Zoe. You’re mine.”

“Yours,” she said, and the second the word left her mouth, she set down her last fear, her last reservation, her last protest. Her walls were gone, just blown apart by this man’s amazing patience and kindness and belief in her. She was a rose without a cage of ice, and she found herself stretching, reaching to the sun, wanting to be both warmed and protected by its power. “Yours, Scars. I promise.”

---