17. Juliette #3
“I want to experience it all,” I say, and Scotty repositions himself to lie on his side behind me.
The “little spoon.” That is what he’s made me.
His fingertips tease and awaken my sex, and it’s like he knows exactly where to touch me to get the best reaction.
I sigh and groan. Mewl and whimper. He seems to be enjoying all of it as his fingers dance with more intensity until it all bubbles up like a soup pot about to boil over.
When was the last time I’ve felt this good?
Actually, when was the last time I felt anything at all?
Scotty enters my life, and my life is awash with color, like I was a blank canvas waiting for the proper brush strokes.
Now I am relishing in a different kind of stroke, one not even the stable boy in my village could mimic.
Merde. My eyes slip shut as Scotty cups my pussy with his palm. What is he doing? I don’t even care at this point because it all feels too good.
“Fuck my hand,” Scotty growls in my ear. Gooseflesh prickles along my arms and the back of my neck. What did he just say? He nuzzles the shell of my ear with his nose and murmurs darkly, “You heard me. I said fuck. My. Hand. Use me. Pleasure yourself. Now.”
The mere suggestion of doing something so …
so wanton … nearly has me climaxing. When I tilt my face to look up into Scotty’s eyes, I notice they’ve darkened into bright red orbs.
He licks his fangs greedily like he’s been feeding even though we haven’t eaten in ages.
Waiting for me to obey him. I jerk my hips forward and let out a soft sigh as more heat licks through my body and into my throbbing clit. More, my body demands. More, more.
My lashes—the only hair still left on my body—flutter, and my hips buck involuntarily against his hand.
I am no longer in control of my body, and the tension within me uncoils like a spring in a toy.
My climax is quick but as fierce as a summer storm, and twice as violent.
Not to mention twice as wet. I’ve soaked through my undergarments.
To quiet myself, I quickly bury my face in Scotty’s arm.
“Oh, gods,” I say, my voice muffled against his body. “You are practiced, indeed.”
Scotty pets the top of my head, then kisses it again and again until I am nearly sick of it. He sits upright and pulls me into his lap and cradles me. In his arms, I feel so … small. Like I could disappear in his jacket, never to be seen again.
We sit in the grass like this for ages until the credits on the screen finally roll. Some of the cars begin to drive out of the lot. No one seems to notice us or what we did right behind them. But I know … and I will remember this moment for the rest of my unlife.
“I feel like a young woman again,” I finally say.
Scotty rests his head on top of mine. He runs his hands up and down my arms, like he’s trying to make me warmer. Silly of him. Perhaps it is simply a rehearsed gesture. An artifact from his human life, to coddle a woman in this way.
“I’m not that practiced,” he says, and plants one final kiss on the top of my head. “Don’t go getting it twisted.” I have no idea what that means. “I haven’t slept with that many women. I’m sure you’re far more experienced than I am. You’re older.”
“Have you fallen on your head when I wasn’t looking?” I tease, lightly swatting his chest. “Because you know what I look like. The last man I slept with was when I was still a human.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. I’m not blind, Jules. I see you. I see all of you. What’s the problem?”
I blink slowly. “I … I’m ugly, Scotty. That is the problem.”
“According to who, exactly?” His brows knit together, like he’s trying to solve a difficult problem. Or maybe he’s angry with me? “Because I know you’re going to say ‘to everyone,’ but that’s a bunch of shite. You’re cute, Juli.”
“Maybe when I was a human, but no one told me I was particularly handsome when I was alive, either, because—”
He places a fingertip on my lips again, silencing me. “Shh. Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s not exactly your call to make, is it? You’re beautiful. And you’re just going to have to deal with me having a different opinion than you.”
If I could blush right now, I’d die from the embarrassment. But instead, I avert my gaze. I look up at the stars, and then … and then I feel the stinging behind my eyes. No, no, no. Don’t cry. Not now, you silly old thing. To be this sentimental just because a man called me beautiful!
I jerk my head back to meet his gaze, then clear my throat. “Tell me more of your story. I want to know what happened after the frenzy.”
He sighs. “Really? You suck at taking compliments, by the way.” A flash of his fangs, and I can’t help but smile back.
“I know. But I really do want to hear the rest of your story. Please. Humor me.” I melt against his chest thanks to the delicious orgasm. Something I haven’t experienced in … far too long. It will be easier for me to simply listen to Scotty right now.
“Yeah, right, so, we can skip over the parts where I took that job at Fletcher and Sons, right? Because it’s boooooring as fuck,” he says. “You don’t want to hear me drone on about sorting mail. But I did take that job, and it was a good thing for me. Well, until it wasn’t…”