22
SCOTTY
“I don’t care what other girls like done with their nipples! I want to know what she’ll like!”
Pinching my eyes shut for a moment, I plead with myself to stay patient.
Calm. “Tate, I don’t know what she’ll like.
Every woman is different. I just know the .
. .” This is so weird to talk about with him.
“I just know the, like . . . spot to hit, you know? That kind of stuff. And I can read signals well, I guess. But really that’s just a skill I had naturally even before my first time. ”
That surly expression doesn’t budge.
A loud sigh leaves me, and I rub at my temple.
He’s asked about a half-million questions today already, and that’s only in the short few hours since I first offered to teach him how to pleasure Ezla. I meant in the moment, but he’s unrelenting.
I don’t even know why I offered in the first place— No, that’s a lie.
It’s because Tiger’s proposal is sounding more and more appealing, and I’d been taken over by the insane urge to give it a shot, leaving me to use the first tactic that came to mind when I wondered how I could convince Tate to accept it too.
But now all I can think about is what Ezla would look like impaled on my dick, her pussy milking me as I hold her legs securely over my shoulders so that she’s bent in half, all spread open for me.
Even though all my mind can conjure of her is a fuzzy figure with no clear features other than the flawless shape of her body I can always see hugged lovingly by her Avri suit, I can imagine taking such good care of her, driving myself into her slowly, but deep and hard . . . making her feel every inch.
My cock’s been demanding attention throughout the entire conversation, and it’s becoming unbearable.
“Really, Tate—it comes naturally. I can simply better guide you if you need help. It’s more like a . . . failsafe.”
His eyes squint, but he dips his head in understanding.
I nod in return. “Okay, good.”
Glancing at the three other men in our group who are sat around the dining room table in our Bonded chambers eating their dinner and studiously pretending to ignore our conversation—all except for Tiger, of course, who’s been listening with an animated face the entire time—I push off the taalk beneath my palms and rise to my feet. “Gonna go to bed early.”
I hear my brother’s snicker but don’t bother to look back as I all but bolt to my bedroom, hard-on throbbing insistently with every step.
Slamming the door the moment I’m inside, I yank off my boots and armoury sticks, throwing them in the general direction of my bed where I’d put my gloves earlier, before reaching for the hidden zipper at the back of my Avri suit.
Unlocking the clasp with a click!, I drag the slide down to where the zipper ends at about a fourth of the way into where my ribcage sits at my upper back, leaving the rest to the stretchy sinthe; it enables me to easily and hurriedly pull the suit off my broad shoulders, then down the rest of my body, until I’m as naked as the day I was born, my erection standing up proudly.
I don’t hesitate to wrap my hand around it.
Hissing, I rub my thumb over the pre-cum leaking from the tip, using it as lube as I drag my hand down to the base.
Twisting my fist, I tighten my grip, working my palm back to the mushroom head.
Then I repeat the motion, letting my head drop back against the door behind me.
Lashes fluttering as my mind pictures that hazy figure again, pleasure burns through me.
A grunt escapes me, and I have to bite my lip to keep any damning groans from slipping out as I pick up my pace, the sound of my palm frantically pumping my cock obscenely loud in the quiet of the room.
But my mouth falls back open again as a tingling heat builds at the base of spine, hips jerking forwards into my grip as my lips form Ezla’s name without sound.
Breathing completely uncontrolled and brows scrunched, I pump my hand a few more times—before my cock jerks and cum shoots out of me and all over the glossy floor.
The orgasm feels endless, and I’m left gasping for breath, sagged against the cool door that’s in complete contrast to the flush covering every inch of me.
Once I’ve got my heart rate mostly back under control, I swipe my forearms across my sweaty forehead and make my way to the bathroom to go grab a towel to clean the mess up.
Christ, I really don’t know what’s come over me—I hardly even know Ezla.
All I do know is that she’s ridiculously impressive, independent as hell, and has a knack for killing Evots and Exots alike in the most brutal ways possible.
I don’t know what that says about me when she’s the only woman who’s affected me like this, the only woman I’ve ever truly wanted and not for any sort of distraction.
And it came on so suddenly, so inevitably.
Fuck, what is she doing to me?