Page 70 of Villainous Summer

“How I want you haven’t been fake since the day I picked you up from your hotel lobby for the parade. Nothing about how I feel is fake. Nothing about the compulsion to kiss you senseless is fake. So, don’t use that as an excuse to push me away.”

“But—you don’t want—”

I’m silenced by his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair holding me as his fingers traced from my knee up to the apex of my thighs.

The kiss was demanding, filling my senses with heat and a beat of want. Every dip, every caress drew me into him. I was free-falling into us.

“I need you. Truly, I do.” Peppering kisses down my neck, he trailed his fingers between my thighs, easing my lace thong to the side. “Tell me you want this.”

“I do.”

He stood, with me still in his arms.

Twisting my legs around his waist, I heard the wine bottle clink as it landed on the ground, and he stumbled up the stairs, carrying me.

His touch scorched my bare skin, with his lips on my neck, my jaw, my mouth. After he tossed me onto a soft bed, I barely had time to take a breath before he was on top of me, his muscular thighs between my open legs. As he kissed me, his hands pulled my dress above my breasts and threw it on the floor beside his shirt.

“Since that first day, I’ve imagined you here. On my bed. I’ve pictured a thousand different ways I could have you.”

“And now?” My words were shallow as he cupped one breast, flicking his thumb over my pebbled nipple. “But even after all those daydreams, I could never get you right in my mind.”

“Am I better?” I writhed beneath him as he pinched my nipple, rolling it, sparking the sensation straight to my clit.

“You always are.” His mouth captured one breast, sucking and biting me.

“I can’t afford to want you. You’re taking over all of me.” Tracing along my waist with his tongue, he offered a whisper of a touch, sending flames down to my center. “I should have known touching you would be like a sickness I could never recover from. You’re infecting everything in my life. I can’t sleep, can’t eat without thoughts of you. You’re invading the very fiber of me.”

My underwear was tossed to the other side of the bed, and I was bared to him. He cupped my mound, slipping a finger past my clit and parting my folds. “I can’t be alone in these thoughts. Tell me you need me, too.”

The fissure was widening. This wasn’t a plea for sex but for its absolution. I couldn’t say the words. If I would have started, I could’ve said more, losing everything holding me together.

I whimpered and gasped as he teased me. Before long, I was crying out, my pussy clenching around his scout’s honor fingers.

His words were hot on my ear as he wrung out the last of my climax.

With his clothes gone, he was between my thighs, his hard cock against my inner thigh.

“As much as I like your moans, I’m going to love hearing you scream for me.”

I gave him a wicked grin. “Truly.”

With that word, he sank into me, filling me up in a single swift motion.

I screamed at the intrusion, my nails digging into his back.

I was being taken. There was no other word for it. The harder he thrust into me, the more I was giving away.

“You’re so fucking tight for me, baby. Do you feel that?”

I nodded, the words falling into gasps.

“See how good you’re taking me? See how I fit you?”

All I could do was hold on tight as he drove into me. My second orgasm was fast approaching as he hammered me, his fingers digging into my hips. At one point, my legs were brought up, my feet on his shoulders as he thrust deeper, hitting parts I didn’t know I had.

My moans turned into cries, which then became his name.

“That’s right. Who’s fucking you? Who’s making you come? Let all my neighbors know who’s making you feel this way.”

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