Chapter 8 #3
Her breath is hot against my mouth as she moves. Slow, steady movements that turn my brain to mush. She’s got my wrists pinned above my head, nails biting into my skin every time her hips roll down. Each drag of her body against mine makes my control slip another inch.
She leans in close, lips brushing mine. “You feel that?” she whispers. “How hard are you right now?”
“Hard to miss,” I grit out.
She smiles, smug and breathless, grinding again, long and slow. “Guess I still know how to get under your skin.”
“Adrienne,” I manage, voice rough, “you’ve been under my skin since day one.”
Her laugh is soft, taunting. “You like me like this, though, don’t you? Making you lose control?”
My patience fractures. “You think this is me losing control?” I shove up just enough that she gasps, my arms still trapped, but my body flexed beneath hers. “You’ve got no idea.”
She presses down again, and the sound that leaves my chest is half a growl. My hips jerk up, answering hers.
“Ohh,” she moans softly, “that felt so good, baby.”
“Fuck, Adrienne…” I drag in a shaky breath, eyes locked on the way her body moves above me. The word baby does something visceral to me. “You’ve always been a tease with me. Always knowing just how far to push it before you walk away.”
Her lips part, a soft sound slipping out when I flex my hips again. “And you love it.”
“Damn right I do,” I rasp, “but you know what I love more? Watching that confidence melt when I finally get my hands on you.”
Her eyes flicker, that defiant spark mixing with want. “You think you can handle me?”
“Handle you? Darlin, I’m going to ruin you.”
Her breath catches, but I don’t stop. The words start pouring out, every thought I’ve buried for months.
“You walk into my garage wearing that tight little dress, these fucking heels, and I’m supposed to just nod and say ‘morning’? You bend over the counter, I can see every inch of that ass, and I’ve got to pretend I’m focused on invoices.”
I shake my head, grinding up against her just enough to make her gasp again.
“You did that to me on purpose. Hell, you’ve always done it.
You show up to the ranch in those tiny cutoff shorts, pretending you’re there to help your dad.
You lean over my shoulder while I’m fixing your damn car, smelling like sin, acting like you don’t notice me fighting not to look down your shirt. ”
Her lips part on a shaky breath, but I keep going.
“You know how many nights I’ve gone home from family dinners half out of my mind because you sat across the table smiling at me like you knew exactly what I was thinking?
You’d cross your legs slowly, lick that bottom lip, and keep talking about business like you weren’t killing me. ”
She shifts on my lap, and I tighten my grip on her hips, keeping her still.
“And the worst part?” I rasp. “You’d bring some guy around once in a while, some shiny suit or ballplayer, someone who thought he could handle you.
I’d watch you parade around town on their arm, laughing, trying so damn hard to convince yourself one of them could give you what you need. ”
I lean in close, my mouth at her ear. “But they couldn’t. None of them ever could. You think I didn’t see it? The way you’d come back from those dates with that restless look in your eyes? Like you were wound too tight, like every touch they gave you just made you hungrier.”
I drag my mouth down her neck, biting just enough to make her gasp. “You want to know why, sweetheart?” I whisper against her skin. “Because they don’t know how to fuck you like I do. They don’t know how to make you feel safe and ruined all at once. They never could.”
Her breath stutters against my jaw. I can feel her heartbeat racing, her hips trembling where they’re still pressed to mine. For the first time tonight, she doesn’t have a comeback ready.
Her fingers twitch on my wrists like she’s not sure whether to hold me there or let go. Her lips part, but nothing comes out—just a soft, broken exhale that sounds a hell of a lot like surrender.
I smirk, voice dropping low. “What’s wrong? Didn’t expect me to notice all those little games you’ve been playing?”
She shakes her head, but her body betrays her, pressing closer, chasing the friction.
“Yeah,” I rasp, my eyes locked on hers, “you did. You wanted me to notice. You’ve been trying to make me lose it for years.”
I flex my hips beneath her until her breath catches again. “Well, congratulations. You win.” I lean up, my mouth brushing her ear, my voice pure gravel. “But you’re about to find out exactly what that earns you.”
Her grip on my wrists falters when I flex my arms, testing her hold. “You want to tease me?” I growl, voice low, steady, deliberate. “Then you’re going to take everything you’ve been begging for without saying it.”
Her pulse flutters beneath my lips when I kiss her throat. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember how to act so damn smug. Gonna make you come until you forget your own name.”
She trembles, still grinding, but now every breath is a whimper.
“I’m going to taste you,” I murmur against her ear, “everywhere. Feel you squeeze around my fingers, my tongue, my cock—until you can’t think straight. Until all you can do is beg me to keep going.”
Her fingers slide from my wrists. She’s shaking, not from fear but from need.
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I ask, catching her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “All that teasing… it was just you asking for this.”
I don’t wait for her to answer. Her mouth’s still parted, eyes dark and hazy when I free my hands from her grip and grab her hips. I flip us easily, her back sinking into the couch cushions as I settle between her legs.
The shift turns her breath into a half gasp, half moan, and I grin down at her. “My turn.”
Her dress is bunched around her thighs, and I slide one hand up, dragging my knuckles along the soft inside of her leg. She shivers, and that little sound she makes when my thumb brushes the lace at the top of her thigh? That’s the sound I’ve been waiting years to hear.
“Look at you,” I murmur, fingers finding the edge of her panties. “All this attitude, all this fight—melting the second I touch you.”
She tries to speak, but all she manages is a shaky, “Scotty…”
I dip my head, lips grazing her throat as I slide my fingers higher. “Say it again.”
“Scotty.” Softer this time. Needier.
“Good girl.”
I press my palm against the heat between her thighs, feel the dampness through the lace, and groan against her skin. “Fuck. You’re already soaked.”
Her hips jerk under my hand. “I—can’t help it.”
“Don’t want you to.” I hook a finger beneath the lace, slide it aside, and find her bare and slick and trembling. The first stroke over her clit makes her cry out, sharp and sweet.
“Yeah,” I breathe, watching her face. “That’s it. I’ve been thinking about this moment for years. Imagining what your pretty pink pussy looked like.”
She gasps, and I look up from where I’m toying with her to see her watching me. “You like knowing that, don’t you?” She pulses against me. “Yes, you do, filthy girl. You like knowing I’ve imagined spreading you wide and licking you from every angle?”
Her hands clutch at my shoulders, her body arching as I start a slow rhythm. Small circles, firm pressure, just enough to make her lose control one breath at a time.
“Scotty, please—”
“Please, what?”
“I need—God—”
I slide two fingers down, find her entrance, and tease her with just a slight dip inside before moving back to her clit. She gasps, the sound pure desperation.
“You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” I ask, low and rough. “Or you want my tongue first?”
“Both,” she pants, eyes glassy.
“Greedy girl. I like that.”
Her body’s shaking now, breath breaking into little gasps as I work her faster. I can feel her close, the muscles in her thighs tightening, her hands gripping my shirt like she’s about to fall apart.
“Scotty—please—don’t stop—”
I do.
I pull my hand away, my fingers slick and glistening in the low light, and sit back just enough to look at her. She stares up at me, wrecked and confused, her chest rising and falling like she just sprinted a mile.
“What—why did you—”
I smirk, bring my fingers to my mouth, and suck them clean while holding her gaze. “Because not like this,” I murmur, voice a growl. “I want to taste you first.”
Her breath catches, pupils blown wide. “Oh my God…”
“Not God, sweetheart,” I rasp, leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Just me.”
Her breath hitches when I palm the heat between her thighs. Lace is soaked. I hook my fingers into the waistband and slow it down on purpose, over her hips, past that perfect ass, down her legs until the panties hit the floor with a soft whisper.
“Fuck,” I rasp, taking in the shine of her. “Look at you, sweetheart. So wet for me.”
I nudge her knees wider, and the dress rides up, baring all of her. I settle on the rug between the couch and her, hands spread against her thighs, thumbs stroking the soft inside until she trembles.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I tell her, voice low. “I want you to see how beautiful your pussy is when I open you up.”
I spread her with my thumbs. She’s glistening, pink and swollen, the kind of sight that makes a man forget his name.
I lean in and breathe her in, sweet and wild.
“Christ… you smell like you’ve been thinking about me all day.
” I drag my nose along her, slow. “And you sound,” she lets out a shaky whimper, “like you’re about to beg. ”
“Scotty,” she whispers, already breathless.
“Yeah, baby. I’ve got you.” I flatten my tongue and lick a long, deliberate stripe from her entrance up to her clit. She jolts. I do it again, slower, catching every taste. She’s salted honey on my tongue, pure sin. I hum against her. “So damn good. I could live here.”