Page 32 of Scars He Gave Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 2)

I slip my hand under his shirt, let my fingers glide over his spine, and enjoy the luxurious feel of his skin. He’s exquisite. Perfect. Delicious. He drags his mouth up my throat and kisses me again as he slips the straps to my tank top down my arms.

His mouth moves over mine, caressing with his lips, teasing with his tongue, and I moan.

I can’t feel enough of him or taste enough of his kisses and when he drags his lips down my throat to my collarbone, I want more. More kisses, more touches, more of his body pressed against me, his skin touching mine.

I tug the hem of his shirt up and he pulls away long enough to yank it over his head then gazes down at me with wild eyes and swollen lips.

“If you want to stop …”

I pull him back down. If that isn’t answer enough, there isn’t going to be one. My hands explore as he lowers his head and takes one taut nipple into his mouth. I arch my back and hold him against me.

The nostalgia is nice, but he’s different. More man than boy. More experienced. I would probably be jealous if I had the capacity to think deeper about it, but the things he’s doing with his mouth and his hands overshadow everything else. When he moves to the other nipple and slides his hands down my stomach, I’m ready. Panting, even.

He sits up, depriving me of anything but the ability to look at him. I’m cold where his mouth and hands have been. If he’s going to stop now, I’m going to need a few hours with a vibrator to get over this.

“Take your clothes off.”

His eyes are dark, almost black they’re so blue, and feral. I want him out of control.

“Do it yourself.”

The predatory grin, the curl of his fingers into the blanket turns me on even more. But when he says, “If I have to do it, I don’t think you’re going to like it,” I’m lost. I couldn’t possibly want him more.

I shift and smile, leaning up on my elbows.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t take orders from you.” I lift one hand and lay it over my breast. “I don’t even need you. I have a vibrator and fingers of my own.” His gaze doesn’t waver from my fingers tweaking my nipple, but his breath is shallower, and his smile’s faded. “So, if you want something done, you ask nicely, and maybe I’ll decide I need your help after all.” I keep my voice low and sultry but let my hand drift to the waistband of my shorts then inside.

“Stop.” He pulls my shorts down then kneels between my legs for a second, watching me slide my fingers in and out of my pussy, before he takes me by the wrist and brings my hand up for a lick. He lowers his head and brushes his tongue from my slit to my clit.

I die for a full second from the sheer pleasure before he slides his tongue inside me then back out, replaces it with his fingers, and sucks my clit into his mouth. After four days of teasing myself with his kisses and a few mostly innocent touches, I’m so ready I could explode right now, but I want more. I want everything with him.

He keeps going and I feel like I’ve won. Until, just when I’m about to enjoy the most erotic orgasm of my life, he pulls away.

I whimper. “Please.” I can’t manage words more than that one.

“Please what?” He moves to stand beside the bed, unfastens his belt, then the button and the zipper to his pants. Dear God. There’s nothing this man can’t do without looking like he was born to do it, like a god. And right now, he’s a sex god.

“Please fuck me.” I have never wanted anyone—including him—the way I want him right now. When I try to sit up, he pushes me back. “Let me touch you.”

He cocks an eyebrow and shoves his jeans down. Commando is such a good way for him to go. “Not yet.”

Instead, I can only watch as he strokes his cock from base to tip. Oh, God. He’s long and thick, ready, dripping, and I want him inside me. I turn sideways and capture him between my thighs. He runs his free hand along my leg and tries to move it, but I’m strong and he’s one-handed. I hang on.

The power play is real. Neither of us is willing to give in.

But then he grabs my hips and flips me on my stomach. With the other hand, he pulls my ass high in the air, finds the wetness between my thighs, and swipes teasingly across my aching clit.

“Do you think you’re in charge here, Corrie?”

I gasp. Not because he’s naked in front of me, or because he said my name in that slow, sweet way I’ve always loved, but because I’ve wanted him for so long—more than the few days I’ve been here—and now I have him. All I have to do is submit.

“I want you,” I whimper. “Please.”

As I sit up, he leans forward and kisses me, soft and sweet then hard and wild as he pushes me down. “Get further on the bed.”

He unwraps a condom and sheathes his cock. I stay on all fours and lean my hips back towards him, arching my back as far as it will go. I am breathless before he’s even entered me. I’ll do anything he wants me to do if he’ll please just slide inside me, fill me up, make me his.

He rubs the head of his cock at my entrance in a slow, smooth motion. It doesn’t satisfy anything. All it does is crank the heat inside me up another notch.

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