Page 69 of Wicked Scorn
“Shut up,” I cut him off, my voice choked with emotion. “I love you too, pretty boy.”
The confession bursts from me, raw and unfiltered. It’s as if we’re pouring all our pain, love, and promises into this moment.
His hands roam my body, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. The world fades away, leaving just this.
That’s the thing about Jeremiah Blackwood. He always knows what I need.
Chapter 26
Jeremiah
She fucking loves me.
Jeremiah. Just Jeremiah, not Blackwood, not leading defensive back for the state.
Not because of my money or status. Definitely for my big ass dick, though.
I’m gonna marry this girl and put babies in her one day. Fuck, just the thought of it has me bricked up and ready to start now.
My hands grip Oakley’s waist, pulling her closer, flushed hard against me. Her body is such a contrast to mine—petite, almost fragile. But there’s nothing delicate about the way she’s looking at me right now. She looks like she could devour me, and I’d let her.
“Jeremiah,” she breathes, desire and desperation coating every syllable. There’s something in the way she says my name, like it’s a prayer or a curse.
I push her back against the rough surface of the school’s roof, relishing the way her soft curves press into the hard lines of my body. The sky opens up and rain soaks through ourclothes, plastering fabric to skin, but I can’t get close enough. My fingers tangle in her long golden hair, pulling gently to expose the slender column of her neck.
“God, baby, you’re perfect,” I groan, tracing the blue veins visible beneath her skin. She arches into my touch, and I can’t help but feel like some obsessed artist driven mad by his muse.
“Pretty words from a pretty boy,” she teases, her eyes bright under the darkened sky, “keep talking like that, and we won’t make it to bed.”
But the water dropping on us is relentless, thrumming in a steady rhythm, as if it’s urging us on. I drop my head to her shoulder, inhaling the earthy scent of rain mixed with her floral perfume. It’s intoxicating, and I lose myself in the sensation, in the taste of her skin against my tongue as I lick up and down her neck and jaw.
“Always so quick-witted,” I say against her lips before claiming them with mine.
She responds with equal fervor, her nails digging into my back as if she’s trying to pull me inside her soul. And I’d go willingly; I’d drown in the depths of her without a second thought.
“Want you so much,” I murmur, moving urgently against her feeling her dress sticking to my hands.
“Show me,” she challenges, sass wrapped in sweetness, her hands demanding as they explore my own drenched form.
I drag myself down her body, lifting the now sheer fabric of her dress up and pull her panties down and tucking them into my pocket so I can feast on her sweet cunt.
I wrap my hands around her small legs, watching as they damn near cover the whole thing and spread her open for me. Burying my face into her pussy, I breathe her in and her taste,her scent, it’s better than I remember. She’s soaked for me, her arousal coating my lips and chin as I lap at her center like a man starved of water. I can’t get enough of her.
My tongue burrows into her tight heat, seeking out her clit and teasing the bundle of nerves until she’s damn near incoherent. Her cries of pleasure muffled only by the rain pelting the tin roof of the entrance.
“Ah fuck,” she moans, her sweet little voice sounding so dirty with the fuck word on her lips as I tease her clit with my tongue, swirling around it before gently sucking it into my mouth. As I run my tongue over her folds, I can taste the sweet tang of her arousal, and it’s like a drug, making me want more.
Her hands grasp at my outgrown hair, nails dragging through the short stubbly strands as she arches her back.
“Look at you, under me like my own personal fucking Tinkerbell, folded like origami. I own you, Oakley Ashford. Your heart, your body, your soul, and your womb. I’m gonna fuck my cum into you so hard one day it’ll take root and your little body will birth my big Blackwood babies.”
I devour her, using my lips, teeth and fingers to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her trembling body. She’s so wet, so goddamn wet for me and it’s all I can do not to dive in right then and there. Instead, I tease her mercilessly, circling her clit with my tongue before plunging two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them inside her as I worship her with my mouth. Oakley’s taste is addicting, like honey and sin, and I don’t know how I ever went without it.
The sight of her before me, the taste of her on my tongue, and the wet sounds of my fingers plunging in and out of her have me ready to start humping this fucking roof.
“Oh God,” her legs shake around my shoulders as she cries out as she comes apart in my mouth, showering me with herrelease. I relish in the power I have over her, the way she falls apart under my touch.
I pull away, glancing up at her flushed face and glazed over eyes. “You taste like what I imagine pixie dust tastes like,” I growl, licking my lips before standing up and lifting her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist willingly, as if she was made to be here with me.
