50. Juliet
JULIET
“ W e can get caught here,” he says, the words gritted out through clenched teeth. “It’s practically out in the open.”
I bite down on my lower lip. “You like to be watched, though,” I remind him. “Isn’t that why you videoed us together?”
“Oh fuck.” Gio reaches up to scrub a hand down his face, but his fingers get caught on the mask and he stops, letting his arm drop again. “I shouldn’t let you do this. Nolan sent me to bring you—to make sure you made it back to us, not to…”
My fingers slide his belt from its loops and I tug the leather free.
“Jules…” My name is both a warning and plea on his lips.
When I go to lower myself to my knees, he catches me and jerks his gaze up and down the corridor.
A moment later, he yanks me behind a red curtain and against the window that overlooks the courtyard I just left.
“Fuck, fine,” he snaps. “If we’re gonna do this, then we need to be quick.”
I grin as I lower and look up at him as my knees touch the floor. “I can be quick and clean,” I tell him.
It’s been so long since it’s just been the two of us, him and me, together, that this feels almost as if we’re back at the beginning when neither of us were very sure of the other.
So much has happened since then, so much has changed, yet we’re there once more.
I didn’t realize how much simpler it was then. How naive we were.
“ Fuck .” Gio releases the curse on a low hiss as I hold his dress shirt away from his body.
He takes it from me and slides it between his teeth.
I smile, grateful, as the action gives me room to reach for the front placket of his pants.
Undoing the button, I lean forward and take his zipper between my teeth.
His abs constrict once more as I drag it downward.
My hand delves inside and frees him from the confines of his clothes.
He’s hard and thick in my grasp, the vein underneath his cock practically pulsing as the head of him weeps with a slick precum.
The glint of silver from his piercing draws my attention and I move up, opening my mouth to let my tongue lick out and steal over the jewelry.
Gio’s hands find the back of my head, fingers sliding through the strands of my hair as he thrusts his cock against my face.
I lick him again, lapping at the salty taste of him before parting my lips further and taking him inside.
The head disappears into my mouth and smooths over the flat of my tongue.
His fingers contract against me, one hand dropping to palm the back of my neck.
The possessive hold keeps me in place and reminds me that I’m not here with someone I feel obligated to pleasure, but a man that has killed for me—would do so again.
My lashes tickle the skin beneath my brow as I look up through them.
His gaze meets my own, the shock of dark wanton desire burning from him into me.
“You are fucking stunning, Prep Girl,” he murmurs, the sound of his raspy tone lighting me up inside. “Take me deeper?”
It’s a question, a request, and I love him all the more for it.
I widen my jaw and his cock sinks several inches deeper into my mouth.
He doesn’t stop until he’s at the back of my throat.
We’ve done this before—in another place and in what feels like another lifetime.
He pauses and then nudges against me, a silent interest, a phantom inquiry.
The corners of my lips quirk upward. Too many people think that the Scorpion Kings are all alike—criminals, loyal only to each other.
Only I know the differences in them this way.
Without Nolan here to push the boundaries, Gio is a different kind of lover.
He’s not so much gentle as he is constantly aware.
Sometimes I want the pressure, I want the demand. Now, I just want him.
“Jules…” My name is both a prayer and a warning spoken in a garbled tone that barely makes it past the shirt pinched between his teeth.
Pride suffuses my soul. Gio’s fingers contract against the back of my skull and the nape of my neck as I bob my head forward, taking him even more. The head of his cock slips into my throat and the squeeze is an ache that I now relish.
More. More. More. That’s what I want. What I need.
I don’t stop taking him until the tangle of dark, neat curls at the root of his cock tickle against my nose. Then I inhale through my nose and hollow out my cheeks, sucking as I slowly pull him free.
“God damn!” The words are gritted out, muffled slightly by the clench of his teeth and his shirt. His hips jolt, his body jerking against his will as I pleasure him with my lips, throat, and tongue.
Wild. Angry. Untamed. That’s what I want. I want Gio to lose his mind over me the same way I’ve lost my mind over him and the rest of the Scorpion Kings.
Up and down. Back and forth, I suck his cock all the way to the base over and over again, until he’s hissing through his teeth, struggling to bite down on the fabric of his shirt, as he stares down at where he disappears behind my lips.
His cock continues to leak precum, growing in volume with each pass over my tongue, into my throat. His abs ripple and contract as he fights his orgasm. Upon the next withdrawal, I pause and flick my tongue over the tiny V shape beneath the head of him and he loses all semblance of control.
Ripping himself away from my mouth, Gio steps back and yanks his jacket then nearly rips the buttons of his shirt off as he undresses.
Dropping it to the floor behind the curtain, he reaches for me, hands shoving underneath my armpits as he hauls me up off my knees.
His hunger shines through dark eyes, glittering at me with a need so visceral that it might scare another woman.
I know this man, though. I know exactly what he’s capable of, and I’m not afraid of it. Not at all.
Wrapping my hands around his nape, I lean into him. “Do it,” I offer. “Take me, Playboy. Make me yours.”
“You are such a fucking brat,” he mutters.
A moment later, though, his mouth takes mine in a vicious demand, stealing the air from my lungs as he lunges against me.
My spine hits the glass window as his hand cups the back of my head to keep my skull from slamming it.
Even wild for me, he’s protective. His tongue invades, twining with mine as his free hand moves down my side and lifts me up against him.
The hard length of his erection presses into my belly.
Finally, he releases me and I gasp, sucking in lungfuls of air.
“Dress,” he says. “Up.” I kind of love that I’ve reduced him to a lustful monosyllabic being, but to be fair, I’m in the same position, and that’s all it takes for me to follow his command.
I yank the fabric of my dress up, stretching it over my hips until it’s gathered at my waist. My breasts are pulled free by him as he pushes either side of the already low-cut top to the sides.
Gio’s calloused hands smooth over my waist and then cup my tits, squeezing lightly before they’re on the move again.
His fingers and palms are rough and calloused, scraping against my sensitive nerve endings with such masculine appreciation that it makes me shiver.
I take the leap, jumping into his arms, and he catches me easily enough, lifting me further until the head of his cock presses against the thin strip of fabric over my cunt.
“Move the underwear,” he growls. “Or I’ll rip them off.”
Smiling, I tilt my head to the side. “Maybe I want you to— Oh!”
Gio’s fingers pinch the side of my thong and yank.
The delicate fabric pulls taut against my skin and then rips with a quiet rending noise.
The cool metal of his piercing nudges against my hole and I rise, arching as it slips against my clit, teasing the bundle of nerves that’s more than ready for some pleasure.
“Gio, please , don’t tease me.” The groan that escapes me is needy and demanding all in the same breath. His responding chuckle vibrates against my hardened nipples.
“Never, Prep Girl,” he swears.
Liar. I whimper as his cock knocks back against my core and then slips inside. Gradually, with impossible slowness, he thrusts into my cunt, stretching my inner walls around the thick rigid girth of his cock until I’m clawing at his shoulders and back.
My teeth tingle with need and unable to resist, I bend my head and sink them into the hard muscle of skin where his neck meets his throat.
His grunt is echoed by the sharp jolt of his hips as he sinks the last final inch inside of me.
I’m hot all over, burning up and coming alive.
My skin feels wrapped too tightly over my bones.
My head is fogged over, a misty haze descending as he holds himself to the base inside of me.
“ Gio …” This time, I’m the one crying out his name, pleading for him to do something.
“Not yet,” he says through clenched teeth. “Not yet.”
“ Why? ” The word is a begging plea.
“Because you still think me fucking you is what makes you mine,” he replies.
What?
Confused, I lean away from him only for him to take that exact moment to draw himself out of my core and thrust back into me in one long, violent movement. Crying out as my inner walls convulse with the sudden action, I cling to him, my legs wrapping around his waist as he fucks into me.
“This,” he grunts out, powering into my body as he tries to speak, “isn’t what makes you mine.
“You were always mine, Prep Girl. You could lose interest in sex for the rest of your fucking life and you would still be mine.”
My walls clamp down against him, resistant against every withdrawal.
It’s too good, too much stretch. My nerve endings are on fire, sparking and spiraling around inside of a body that doesn’t know what to do.
I shake against him. My breasts feel swollen and full.
My nipples are hard little buds, scratching against his hard chest.
Releasing one shoulder, I reach up and cup one breast, pinching my own nipple if only to give myself some relief from the ache.
If there’s one thing these men have taught me, it’s that good sex can be full of both pleasure and pain.
The need builds and builds up inside of me until only the sharp bite of something that hurts can relieve it.
Gio thrusts into me, pushing my back against the wall until I’m pinned between an immovable object and the man before me. “Say it,” he growls, moving into me. “Tell me that you belong to me, that you belong to us, that you’ll never fucking leave us again.”
“I…” I can’t breathe. All of the air has left my lungs. I squeeze my breast again, pinching down harder on my nipple. It’s not enough. “I…”
Each thrust drives me higher and higher until I swear I can see clouds. The crest is right there—almost in reach. Gio’s hand finds my jaw and jerks my head back down and my eyes to meet his.
“Say. It.” The order is a deep, dark need inside of him.
“Yours…” I whisper, panting. “I’m yours…”
His hand drops away from my chin and dips between us, sliding down the curve of my belly and through my slick folds. The second his thumb and fingers dance over my clit, all of the built-up energy inside of me bursts free.
I come, clamping down on his cock and gasping through the fierce wave of pleasure that encapsulates me. His hands never stop, fingers pinching and rolling over my clit to extend the release until I’m boneless in his arms and hanging against him, jerking at each pass of his cock and hand.
When I’m well and truly sated, Gio pulls out of me and lowers me back to my knees. My lashes flutter and my brow creases in confusion, until he says, “Open your mouth, Prep Girl. It’s time for you to swallow my taste. Time for me to mark you.”
A moan flows from between my lips. My filthy playboy wants to leave me with something of him after our encounter.
I follow the command, leaning back, opening myself for him as he strokes his cock from root to tip.
His eyes connect with mine, holding for several long seconds as the tension in his muscles ripples over his frame.
His cock jerks and white cum shoots out across my tongue.
I lean forward, trying to take him between my lips, but before I can get another jet of cum, Gio directs the head of his cock down to my tits.
Rope after rope of milky fluid falls over my breasts, painting my skin in his release.
I gasp and lift my breasts higher to make sure he covers them and to avoid getting any on the actual dress.
Gio’s deep, guttural moan is sensual and reverberating. I blink at the cooling liquid that drips from one nipple. When he’s done, Gio drags two digits up over my breast, sliding the pads of his fingers through the mess he’s made of me before lifting it back to my mouth.
“Open,” he commands again, and I do. Parting my lips to allow him access, I shiver as he smooths his cum over my tongue.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Take me inside your luscious little body, Prep Girl, and know that no matter where you go, you will always come back to us. You will always belong to us.”
When his hand retracts, I close my mouth and swallow his seed. Warmth flushes over my skin, a desperate need filling me up from the inside. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but them.
They might have branded my soul, but that claim goes both ways. The Scorpion Kings are mine .