Page 92 of Don't Make Me Beg
My lips are on his before he can finish that sentence, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as he lets out the sexiest groan of surprise. His hands drop to my hips, gripping me tightly as he deepens our connection and pulls me flush against him.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name, makes you forget everything that’s come before it, because how could anything else matter when kisses like this exist? It’s a fresh start, a rebirth, a complete factory reset, and I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life.
Luka nibbles at my bottom lip, as his tongue gently moves against my own like he’s trying to memorize every inch of my skin. But there’s nothing gentle about the way his hands move over me, possessive and hungry, like he needs to touch me everywhere and doesn’t know where to begin.
I let out a whimper when his large palm slides up my shirt, my skin already on fire and begging to be consumed by him.
“Jesus, Scout,” he hisses in between kisses. “You’re driving me crazy with those fucking whimpers.” His hand inches a little higher, his fingertips stopping just below the swell of my breasts...
“Mr. Luka… I hate to interrupt, but… I believe your sauce is burning…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Luka
Luckily, I was able to salvage most of the sauce before it burned. If L.O.K.I. hadn’t interrupted us—something I know he was all too happy to get to do after I made him end all three of his trysts—I’m not sure how far I would have taken things. Hell, I’d have probably fucked her right there on the kitchen counter—which is not what I want her experience to be tonight.
I can’t let myself get carried away with her, not yet. We’re starting at the base level here, and I need to warm her up before we jump into anything crazy, even if she’s got a bit of a pain kink.
It’s not that I’m against playing into it… Hell, I fully intend on delivering whatever she needs to get her off, but I need to be sure before I get lost in my lust-filled haze. And she needs to experience all shades of the spectrum before she knows what she likes.
Besides, there are plenty of less-obvious ways to fulfill a desire.
Which is why I insisted that we take our time and eat dinner before we took things any further… Scout may have pretendedlike she wasn’t disappointed, but I could see the hurt all over her face. It kills me knowing she’s so used to being rejected that she didn’t even protest, just put on that fake smile and acted like everything was fine.
As if I can’t see straight through her mask.
As if she could ever hide from me.
I make a mental note to add that behavior to my list of lessons I plan on dealing with later.
“That was delicious, Luka. Where did you learn to cook like that?” Scout asks, attempting to help me clear the dishes, but I wave her off.
“You can learn anything on YouTube,” I say with a wink. “Can I get you some more wine or anything?”
She shakes her head and opens her mouth to speak, but closes it just as quickly, like she’s changed her mind.
I saunter toward her. “What were you going to say?”
Her face turns pink, and she shakes her head. “Nothing.”
“I know you’re lying, so just ask me already.”
Her eyes flash to meet mine, like she’s trying to figure out how I knew what she was thinking, then she bites her lip and her eyes drop to the floor. “Fine… I was going to ask you if you wanted to pick up where we left off… or…”
I bite my cheek to hide my smile because seeing Scout looking so fucking shy as she asks for what she wants is simultaneously the hottest and cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
Dragging a thumb over her jaw, I slowly tilt her chin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” My tone is patronizing as fuck, but the way her cheeks flush deeper tells me she enjoys it just as much as I thought she would.
This fucking girl has no idea what she’s doing to me or how much I’m enjoying playing with her, too.
I nod toward the living room. “Go wait for me on the couch. I’m just going to grab something.”
Her eyes widen in recognition of my change in tone, and she doesn’t need me to tell her twice before she makes her way to sit on the couch.
Fuck, I love how naturally submissive she is. She may not realize to what extent, but she loves this shit just as much as I do.
When I return, I find her sitting up, her spine rigid, hands splayed on her thighs like she’s waiting to hear what crime she’s being convicted of. I love how nervous I make her, but more than that, I love that she trusts me enough to submit to anything I tell her.
