Clean Point

32 Scottie

32

bet u wanna – Sabrina Carpenter

My back was pressed up against the door, his hand sliding down my jaw, tilting my head up as his lips pressed hungrily against mine, all in a matter of a single heartbeat. My hands rose to his face, feeling his stubble against my palm as I pulled him close. Our mouths moved against each other, desperate and starving for a taste.

He pressed into me until there was no more space, our bodies hard against each other, grinding and needy. The feel of him against me only left me addicted to him, every inch of him hard from muscle and want.

His head pulled away from mine, and I groaned, instantly missing the touch of his lips. I was quickly rewarded with hot lingering kisses trailing across my jaw, his hand tilting my head as he needed it. He trailed down my neck, across my bare collarbone and left me breathlessly, moaning and panting.

My fingers pulled at his jacket, clawed at his clothing like I was trying to dig my way to his naked skin, wanting to feel the heat of him against my own fingertips, wanting to trace every ripple of tight muscle, craving to find out how he tasted against my tongue.

‘Nico,’ his name left my lips on a whine, aching at my core for more of him. His lips on my throat weren’t enough. I needed all of him.

‘Fucking love hearing you say my name.’ He spoke against my skin, as if he couldn’t dare stop himself for a moment. ‘Need to hear you moan it.’

‘Make me, then.’

His head lifted, my body instinctively following to keep him close. His eyes met mine, the grey darkened with need. His hand rose to my lips, the pad of his finger running slowly over the my swollen bottom lip.

‘I should’ve known you’d be so demanding.’ He smirked, and a knot yanked tight inside me as I pressed my thighs together, fighting the urge to rub them against each other and give myself any edge of pleasure.

‘Show me how much you want me. Show me how desperate you are.’ He grinned, satisfied. I could see the power trip going straight to his head as he realized how much he was in control here, that I was too weak to fight him any longer. I wanted him, needed him to take control. If it meant the smallest bit of satisfaction from him, I’d do exactly as he said.

No question asked.

His left hand ran up my bare thigh, but he didn’t play with me like he had in the car. This time, he wasted no time pushing up the sparkling material of my dress, the high leg slit giving him perfect access.

‘Was this on purpose?’ His grin turned curious as his hand reached between my legs, his middle finger teasing me as he moved forward. ‘Did you leave your panties at the hotel just to tease me?’

My legs struggled under the weight of my body, the teasing pleasure too much. I shook my head truthfully. I couldn’t have expected this, but I didn’t once regret it.

‘I bet you did,’ he said as his finger found my clit, running small teasing circles around it. My eyes closed, breathing in as he spoke again. ‘Now I’m tempted to make you pay for it. Bend you over and fuck you from behind until you can’t stop yourself from screaming my name. I bet you’d enjoy me using you like that.’

Another moan escaped me as his movements grew in momentum. I couldn’t help myself as I began to grind against his hand, needing more and more pressure as the pleasure began to build.

He leaned forward, his lips leaving another trail of kisses against my bare neck, leading up to my ear, where he whispered in between kisses, ‘Let me make one thing clear. You’re mine from now on, Scottie. I’ll do anything for you. I’ll treat you like a princess and a pretty little whore. Whatever you want. But I don’t share.’

His name on my lips was a breathy, strangled plea for more. I could feel his grin against my skin as his hand moved again, finding my entrance, two fingers lined up.

‘I need you. Please,’ I begged for more. For him.

‘You’re so wet for me. I wonder how perfect your pussy is. Wet and tight and needy,’ he teased, refusing to move any further. I desperately ground against his fingers, pressing in, but every time I did, he pulled back a little, leaving me more frustrated, crying for more.

‘Nico, please,’ I begged, pushed to my limit. My usually strong body felt reduced to a fragile little thing too close to snapping. He was the rock I was clinging to, absolution pulling me in the other direction.

‘Look at you, legs spread for me, desperate to ride my fingers. Is this what you want? A dirty quickie in a cupboard?’

‘I want …’ I could hardly form the words, ‘I want you.’

‘Do you know what I want?’ A devilish smile curled onto his lips. ‘I want to fuck the name of every other man you’ve ever had out of your brain. I want to be the only one you can remember taking this pretty cunt. The only one you want.’

‘You are …’ I could feel how embarrassingly wet I was, his fingers working my pussy in every way except the way I needed. ‘I only want you.’

‘Prove it,’ he challenged, his hand realigning at my entrance. I wasted no time pressing down, and this time, instead of moving away, his fingers pressed inside of me. He forced me to work, making me fuck myself on him.

I opened my eyes and held his gaze, his eyes dark and challenging. ‘Prove you can take me, Scottie. Show me how good you’ll be for me.’

I ground on his fingers, low and deep, my pussy aching and stretching to take them. I couldn’t stop the loud moans escaping my mouth, his name, every curse under the sun following it. His other hand found my mouth, closing over it to muffle the noise.

‘Keep going,’ he demanded as if it was something I could control. I felt him working his fingers inside of me, pressing and massaging against my G-spot as wave after wave of pleasure crashed against me. I moved faster and faster, growing greedier for the satisfaction that was building.

‘You are so fucking beautiful like this,’ he crooned, the mood changing. My attention pulled to his face again, finding his eyes soft, the smile on his lips one of disbelief. His hand lifted from my mouth, wiping a strand of hair from my face. The moment was delicate, like the mask had slipped, and I was seeing the smallest hint of what was hiding behind. It only made me want him more.

I’d never felt like this for anyone. All the hook-ups and flings; they had nothing on Nico Kotas and this cupboard. Not from the way he was touching me, his obvious need, and how fucking special he made me feel. Like I was made for him, a precious thing he wanted not to keep or lock away, but to let shine.

Then he did the most despicable thing. He pulled away, leaving me a whimpering mess. His fingers removed, and I almost screamed at him, would’ve done so, if that dark look hadn’t returned to his face, challenging me not to say another word.

His fingers rose to my mouth. ‘Clean,’ he commanded. ‘And taste.’

My lips opened, mouth taking whatever he gave me without question. As he instructed, I greedily tasted myself on his fingers. He watched me, his breathing deep, lips parted on a breath. Then he rewarded me with the sight of him on his knees before me.

He kneeled in between my legs, his hands underneath my dress, easing the material up and out of the way. He unwrapped me. Slowly. Painfully. One look at his face and his devilish grin told me it was on purpose.

‘Please,’ I begged, his hand snaking around my right leg, pulling it over his shoulder, opening my legs for him.

He looked up at me, his eyes hungry. ‘Are you going to beg me to taste you? Are you going to beg like a needy brat?’

‘Yes. Please, I need …’

‘What do you need?’

‘I need your mouth.’

‘And …’ His spare hand rose up to my pussy, trailing again between my legs, teasing. ‘Where do you want my mouth?’

I almost cried out as he leaned forward, kissing my thighs, trailing his lips, biting and grazing his teeth on the sensitive skin. My hand found his hair, fingers knotting.

‘Show me where you need my mouth, Scottie. Use me.’ He no sooner said the words than I pulled his hair, moved his head to my centre, and pressed him to my pussy. He didn’t need to be told twice, his tongue licking, mouth sucking, my hips grinding against his face as I tried to open my legs as wide as I possibly could for him.

My eyes rolled back, moans escaping me, his name delicious on my tongue, his hair between my fingers. Pleasure built higher as his finger joined his mouth, pushing hard back inside me, moving with my hips. I could feel him moan against me, the heat of his lips, the grip of his other hand on my hip, holding me close to him. I gripped the nearest surface, holding on like I was holding onto the edge of release that was building, the tightness squeezing between my legs as I worked against his fingers.

He didn’t stop when I whispered to him that I was close; instead he intensified his efforts, just as hungry for my orgasm as I was. I was desperate and close and needy, living for every lick and suck and grind. And then it crashed into me, my legs weakening under my weight, but he held me up with his shoulders and the support of his free hand, lapping up every moment of my orgasm, feeling me grow tight against his fingers.

When he pulled away, his grey eyes were incredibly bright in the dim light, his lips pulled into a slack, satisfied smile as he said, ‘I’m going to need you to do that again.’