Chapter 12 Scarlett
SCARLETT
“I’m going to ravage you.” Jace pressed me against the inside of his hotel room door, his warmth radiating through my clothes.
A quick glance past his shoulder—and trust me, it was lightning fast with his mouth blazing a path down my jaw—revealed this wasn’t so much a hotel room as it was a luxury suite, bathed in amber lighting that made everything feel dreamlike.
And, oh my God, the possibilities. With so many surfaces besides just a boring old bed.
Which was perfect. The only place I’d ever had sex before was in a bed.
Traditional, missionary, and if I was really doing this, if I was really pushing myself to get the hell out of my head and have some fun, then why not act out a fantasy or two with this sexy stranger?
And what a stranger he was. I loved that he was so tall, he had to duck his head just to kiss me, loved how his muscles rippled beneath that black shirt with every movement, building the anticipation of seeing what lay underneath.
When his hand gripped my outer thigh, teasing the hem of my skirt higher with torturous slowness, his impressive erection pressed against me, making my breath catch.
The thought of him inside me sent heat pooling between my legs.
Maybe I hadn’t been with a man in forever, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want it.
Heaven, did I want it? Going without a man’s hands on my body, his tongue working magic while his eyes locked with mine, feeling him fill me until I cried out in bliss …
apparently, all those desires hadn’t just been simmering on the back burner of my mind.
They’d been smoldering, waiting for the match that would ignite them into an inferno.
“How do you like it, Scarlett?” Jace’s lips traced down my collarbone as my skirt inched higher.
It struck me, in the best possible way, that he’d taken a moment to consider my needs. Not just his. The other men I’d been with had never done that. If Jace was even half as talented as his kisses in the sex department, the man needed no instruction, but my word, him asking me?
Okay, panties are officially ruined.
As a bonus, his consideration emboldened me to answer.
“I want you to taste me until I shatter,” I breathed.
He groaned, the sound vibrating against my skin.
“And then I want you to bury yourself in me until I shatter again. Hard.”
Jace’s lips found my neck, his tongue trailing fire up my skin as his hand slipped beneath my shirt to cup my breast.
“I’m going to make you scream, Scarlett.” His mouth captured mine again, hungry and demanding, his tongue sliding between my lips as he tugged my bra down and rolled my nipple between his fingers.
Yes. Hell yes.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, rolling my hips against his impressive length as I tugged at his shirt until he broke our kiss long enough to pull it over his head.
Sweet baby hippos. I’d known he was built, but this was straight out of a fantasy.
Intricate tattoos embraced his torso, following the contours of his muscles like they were designed to enhance every ridge, every plane.
Broad shoulders tapered down to a set of abs that had me contemplating a career change to professional body-licker.
And since when was a belly button sexy? Because hot damn.
While I was busy drooling over his physique, Jace made quick work of my buttons, his lips trailing down my neck and across my collarbone until my shirt fluttered to the floor.
He reached behind me to unfasten my bra, and when my breasts sprang free, his kisses blazed a path down my chest until he drew my nipple into his mouth.
I arched into him with a gasp as he swirled his tongue over the sensitive peak, his hands already working at my skirt’s zipper.
I kicked off my heels, standing before him in nothing but a scrap of lace that barely qualified as underwear.
As he lavished attention on my breasts, jolts of electricity shot straight to my core, which was pulsing with need.
Reading my body like a master, Jace slid his fingers beneath the lace and groaned.
“You’re soaked for me,” he purred. “Good girl.”
Oh. That was new. I would’ve thought, given my control issues with men, that being called good girl would’ve sent me running.
But nope. In this context, with this man who’d taken the time to ask what I wanted rather than just imposing his will?
It lit me up like a roman candle. Whether it was the moment, the man, or the way he balanced dominance with consideration, I got wetter from those two words.
And I got even wetter as Jace knelt before me, his eyes locked on mine as he slowly, torturously peeled my panties down my legs, drawing out the anticipation until I stood completely bare before him.
When he finally looked at my sex and traced a finger through my folds, I was practically dripping.
“Look how you glisten for me,” he murmured, sliding a finger inside.
The throbbing between my thighs intensified to its own desperate heartbeat, so primed that I might shatter from this touch alone.
Grasping my calf with his free hand, Jace draped my leg over his shoulder and then …
Holy mother of—
His tongue swept across my folds.
My head thunked back against the door, and when he circled my sensitive bundle of nerves, I nearly combusted on the spot.
Keep it together, Scarlett. Let it build.
Though maybe being the fastest orgasm in history wouldn’t be the worst record to hold …
“You taste like heaven, Trouble.”
Through the haze of pleasure, I registered the nickname. “Trouble?”
He gave me two slow, deliberate licks before explaining. “That list is trouble,” he said, his breath teasing my sensitive flesh. “And you. You’re definitely trouble for me.”
His tone suggested I was a temptation he couldn’t resist, a crack in his normally impenetrable armor.
File that under Things That Shouldn’t Be Hot But Absolutely Are.
Jace’s tongue glided up my folds once more before he sealed his lips around that desperate bud, swirling and flicking with devastating precision. The pressure and heat of his mouth sent shock waves through my body, each movement of his tongue a deliberate stroke against my most sensitive skin.
Trembling, I grabbed the back of his head and watched him work, my fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair.
Here was a man, the most devastatingly handsome guy I’d ever seen, on his knees with my leg draped over his shoulder, his face buried between my thighs.
His powerful shoulders flexed with each movement, the muscles in his back rippling beneath tanned skin and tattoos.
The contrast of his masculine strength against his submissive position—servicing me, worshipping me—was intoxicating.
The sight alone almost made me come undone.
Every sensory detail bombarded me with each swirl of his tongue, and the slight stubble of his jaw scraped against my inner thigh, leaving a delicious burn in its wake.
His fingers pressed into my skin so tightly, they left white impressions that bloomed pink when he adjusted his grip.
Those large hands that could easily overpower me instead anchored me in place for his mouth’s heaven.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the erotic sight.
The length of his tongue circling, flattening, then pointing with meticulous attention.
His lips puckering as he sucked that sensitive bud into his mouth with a groan that vibrated through my core.
The sound was primal, hungry, like I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted and he couldn’t get enough.
His hair bobbed slightly as he worked his mouth up and down, side to side, around and around while my thighs began to tremble around him.
My skin flushed hot, then cold, perspiration beading across my collarbone and between my breasts.
I could hear my own breathing turn ragged, punctuated by soft moans that grew more desperate with each passing second.
To my side, there was a full-length mirror that reflected us in the sexiest image.
My naked form pressed against the door, head thrown back, one leg hooked over his broad shoulder.
His hands gripping my thighs, spreading me open.
My glistening folds with his tongue between them, his jaw working as he devoured me.
The image was raw, carnal, and utterly mesmerizing.
My climax began to build with embarrassing speed from the dual assault of sensation and vision.
Heat coiled tight in my belly, my legs quivering as tension built to an almost-unbearable peak.
Usually, I squeezed my eyes shut during release, but something made me look down at this gorgeous man.
Shirtless. His tattooed skin gleamed in the amber light as those green eyes—now darkened with desire to a deep forest hue—held mine captive.
He watched my face intently, studying every micro expression, seemingly memorizing how I looked on the edge of ecstasy.
The intimacy of that eye contact pushed me over.
I shattered completely, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crashed through me, my body arching and convulsing against the door.
And through it all, Jace maintained his relentless rhythm, his tongue and lips working in perfect coordination to draw out every last tremor, every aftershock, until I went limp against the door, utterly spent and gasping for breath.
Rising to his feet, he wiped his mouth with his thumb, then sucked it clean with a wicked glint in his eyes as he removed his pants, revealing black boxer briefs bulging with desire.
“You taste divine, Trouble. Now get on the bed so I can take you.”
I shook my head, still catching my breath, shocked I was bold enough to say this.
“Not the bed.”
The bed was boring, and although I doubted Jace would make it boring, I wanted different tonight, and shockingly, felt comfortable enough to ask for it.
He arched a playful eyebrow. “Pick the place, Trouble, but choose quickly.”
My core clenched at his words. Options, options …
There was a massive glass table that looked sturdy enough to hold us, a plush couch, several chairs, even a mini bar. But the enormous mirror …
Oh, yes.
It had me moving closer to it, to the couch.
Jace groaned when he realized my intention was to watch us.
After he removed his boxer briefs—and, holy hell, let me tell you the size of him made my heart squeeze in a small panic—he disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a condom, which he rolled onto his impressive length.
“Bend over.”
I chose the side of the couch that would give us the best view in the mirror, spreading my thighs and leaning forward to grip the armrest. A flutter of nervousness hit me as I glanced back.
“I don’t know if you’ll fit,” I admitted.
“Don’t worry, Trouble.” He lined himself up, the nickname sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
“I’ll go slow at first. But trust me …” With one hand gripping my hip and the other guiding himself, he breached my entrance.
A bite of discomfort made me instinctively tense.
“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on my lower back. “I’ve got you.”
I focused on melting into his touch as he pressed forward, inch by delicious inch, stretching and filling me until I felt impossibly full. When he was finally buried all the way inside of me, we both groaned.
“I knew you could take me,” he purred, his voice rough with need.
He held still, letting my body adjust, waiting for the slight burn to fade into pleasure. Yet another thing no other man had bothered with. When he finally pulled back and eased forward again, the sensation elicited a moan from deep in my throat.
“Look at us,” he commanded.
I lifted my gaze to the mirror, and holy hell.
The sight of him behind me, all rippling muscle and intensity with his jaw clenched as he gripped my hips, was almost enough to send me over the edge again.
He looked barely contained, like a predator fighting his instincts, waiting for permission to devour his prey. In the sexiest, best possible way.
The fact that he waited, that he cared about my pleasure as much as his own, made me trust him even more. So, when the last trace of discomfort melted into pure need, I pushed back against him.
“Please …”
Jace’s control snapped. He pulled almost completely out, then filled me so wonderfully, I cried out as he found his rhythm. I had never been ravaged like this before, and instantly, I could feel a wave of pleasure building inside of me.
“You’re so gorgeous, Trouble. Dripping for me.”
I’d never been this wet, this desperate. There was something about Jace, like he was designed in a lab specifically to activate every nerve ending in my body. It was probably just because he was a stranger, right? It made me more uninhibited because I’d never see him again.
Whatever the reason, I lost myself in the sensation of him driving into me, in every bruising grip and sharp smack against my flesh.
I watched his reflection, mesmerized by the way his muscles flexed, by the tightening of his stubbled jaw that betrayed his own approaching release.
But what drove me wild was how he watched my face in the mirror, waiting for my pleasure before claiming his own.
I shifted my hips slightly, changing the angle to watch him sliding in and out of me, and the new position had him hitting a spot that made my vision blur.
I crashed over the edge, so hard that my entire body trembled, so hard that I was no longer grounded on this earth but taken to a completely different plane.
With a roar, Jace’s rhythm turned erratic. He slammed into me one final time and stilled, his chest heaving against my back.
“Holy shit,” he breathed, pressing his lips to my shoulder blade. “I’ve never had anything like that.”
Well, that was flattering to hear. Incredibly flattering actually, and I wanted more of him, more of this. We stayed connected, both sticky with sweat and struggling to catch our breath.
“You are going to be trouble for me, aren’t you?” The wonder in his voice made my heart skip.
“Was this what I’ve been missing all these years?” The words slipped out before I could catch them.
“Missing?”
“I haven’t done this in forever.”
“No?”
“No,” I admitted. “And never like this.”
“Sounds like you had some serious pent-up sexual tension.”
“Apparently.” I laughed as he pressed another kiss between my shoulder blades.
“Shower?” he offered.
“Please.”
“Scar?”
“Yeah?”
“After the shower, I’m going to fuck you again.”
Well then, maybe trouble is exactly what I need.