Page 58 of Wicked Scorn
“God, Jeremiah,” I breathe, my hands grabbing and pulling him closer. He grunts in response, his mouth movingto my other breast, lavishing it with the same intense attention. Every touch, every lick and bite, is all-consuming.
“Do you feel this?” he murmurs against my skin, his voice thick with need. “This is real, Oakley. This is us.”
“Yes,” I pant, caught in the whirlwind of sensation he’s creating. His hands roam over my body, exploring, claiming. He trails kisses down my stomach, each one leaving an imprint on my flesh.
“Fuck,” I gasp as his tongue finds its target, teasing, tasting. My hips buck involuntarily, seeking more. He chuckles darkly, his grip tightening on my thighs, holding me in place as he devours me.
“Look at you,” he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So responsive. So perfect.” His words only heighten the pleasure, pushing me closer to the edge.
“Please,” I beg, needing release, needing him. His mouth never stops its relentless assault, driving me higher, faster. My world narrows to just this moment, just him.
“Come for me, bunny. I gotta get you nice and wet for me,” he commands, his voice rough and authoritative. And I do, shattering under his ministrations, crying out his name as waves of ecstasy crash over me and spill onto him.
“That’s it, soak me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone almost tender now. “Good girl.” His words wrap around me as I try to catch my breath.
He moves up my body, settling himself between my legs and I can feel him, hard, thick and throbbing. When the hell did he take his clothes off and how didn’t I notice? He must see the confusion written all over my face because he’s laughing at me as he bends down to whisper in my ear, “You went to the moon for a minute there, baby. Plenty of time forme to get naked and between your legs before you came back to me here on earth.”
Gosh, how freaking embarrassing. I feel the blush spreading across my face immediately. He just stares at me, pushing the hair out of my face. What is he waiting for? A freaking invitation.
Shit, of course he is. He said he wanted my words.
“Rem, please. I’m ready. No fear, no flinching. I want to feel it and I want it to be you. Didn’t you say it was always me and it was always going to be me? Well, Jeremiah Blackwood, it’s you, and it’s always been you, and it’s always going to be you. So are you going to claim me or am I getting up and walking out of here? Because there’s no way we could go back, only forward.” He gives me no words, no affirmation that he hears me, but he grips my chin and presses our noses together and I know he hears me.
He hears me and he sees me and he freaking believes me. I don’t need his words. He leans back on his knees, and I see his cock and my mouth speaks before my brain can even stop it.
“There is no way that’s going to fit. Are there steroids for dicks because there is no way something that size is supposed to fit into someone’s actual body?” Jesus.
“Christ, you’re good and bad for my ego, bunny. It’ll fit. Why do you think I had you come already? You get so fucking wet, it’ll help me slide in.”
“That feels like something you’re just saying to me to try to ease my very real concern of you impaling me.” I’m not wrong.
“You give me too much credit baby. It’s average but never speak of it to Penn because I’ll never hear the end of it. Now it’s gonna hurt and I’m sorry about that,” he murmurs against my ear, one hand pinning my wrists above my headwhile the other guides himself to my entrance. “I can go slow or…”
“I’d rather you not torture me with it.”
Without warning, he thrusts into me, filling me completely. The sudden intrusion steals my breath away, pain shooting through me as he stretches me wide.
“Fuck, Oakley,” he groans, his voice gravelly. “So tight. So perfect.” He’s not moving, not even a twitch, and how does he have this much control?
I squirm, trying to move, trying to get him to move, but he just shakes his head at me.
“Let your body adjust, bunny. I don’t need to be a fucking neanderthal right now.” So, I take a deep breath and we lay there for what feels like forever before my body slowly relaxes. I’m still stretched wide; I still find the sting of pain from having him in me, but something else is happening.
I want more; I want to ease the ache building up in me and I want to come. It has to be written on my face and in my body language because he reads me so easily.
He pulls back slightly before driving in again, harder this time. Each movement is deliberate, controlled, asserting his dominance over me.
“Fu—” I try to form words, but they dissolve into moans. My body responds instinctively, hips arching up to meet his every thrust.
“Such a good girl taking it,” he demands, his tone brooking no argument. “Take what I’m giving you.”
“Yes,” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with need. His eyes darken, a possessive gleam shining through.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, his pace quickening. “Feel that? Every inch of me inside you, claiming you.”
“Please,” I beg, though I can’t tell if I’m pleading for mercyor more. The line blurs, leaving me helpless under his command.
“Fucking cunt is wrapped so goddamn tight around me,” he groans, his grip on my wrists tightening. His movements become more urgent, each stroke driving deeper, pushing me closer to the edge, but I need more.
