Page 7 of Scout
I shrug, casual, pretending I didn’t just get hard at the sound of his voice. “You’re hot as fuck. And I never turn down good dick.”
He licks his lips, then sets his glass down with a softclink.
“This is a bad fucking idea,” he mutters.
And then he kisses me.
Hard.
Our mouths crash like we’ve been holding it in all night. It's messy. Hungry. Clothes come off fast—jackets flying, buttonsundone with impatient fingers. His hands are big and firm, sliding over my waist, my ass, my back. He lifts me as though I weigh nothing, sets me on the cold granite counter in just my briefs, and steps between my legs, claiming the space without hesitation.
“Fuck,” I whisper when his lips drag down my neck. He finds the spot just under my ear and sucks hard enough to make me gasp. His hand presses between my legs, fingers curling around my cock through my underwear, stroking slowly, tasting me with his palm.
“Bedroom,” he growls.
I nod, breathless.
He picks me up again, my legs around his waist, and carries me down the hall like I’m something worth protecting and destroying all at once. The door to his bedroom opens and closes behind us, and he sets me down on the bed like I’m precious.
And then he steps back and stands there.
Lit by the soft bedside lamp, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs and a smirk made of sin. He’s got the body of a fucking god: broad chest, thick arms, abs you could grate cheese on. His golden brown skin catches the light just right, deep and smooth, impossible to ignore. His hard-on is straining against his boxer-briefs and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he says:
“Crawl to me, Scout.”
My breath catches.
“Crawl and show me how much you want my dick between your mouthy little lips.”
Oh.
My.
God.
He has no idea how hard I get for dirty talk. Or maybe he does. I don’t know how, but he fucking nailed it.
I drop from the edge of the bed to my hands and knees, heart racing. The hardwood is cool beneath my palms as I crawl the few feet between us. I glance up at him through my lashes, my whole body vibrating with want.
Tentatively, I reach for his waistband. He doesn’t stop me. Just watches with dark, heavy eyes as I peel his boxer briefs down his legs.
His cock springs free and my mouth waters.
Big. Thick. Veiny. Curved enough to hit everything just right.Fuck, it’s gorgeous.
It matches his smooth caramel skin perfectly, except the tip, flushed a soft pink that practically begs to have my mouth on it.
I blink up at him, barely breathing.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, his voice rough.
And I already know?—
I’m not leaving this house until I’ve earned every damn inch of him.
I stroke my hand up his thigh slowly, testing how far I can push. He doesn’t say a word, just watches me with that smug, dominant stare that does things to my insides.
I wrap a hand around the base of his cock and lean in, tongue out, dragging it over the head. He hisses a breath between his teeth.
