Page 51 of Painted Scars
“Good girl. I’m going to make you feel so good, Glitter Bomb.”
He rewards me, shifting my jaw and claiming my mouth, tasting and testing me. I push into him, but he keeps it controlled. His finger slides under the strap of my hot pink camisole, moving it aside so he can mark that spot too. When his teeth sink into the crook of my neck, I gasp and arch into him.
“Did you wear this for your grumpy stalker?” he growls.
“Yes,” I admit.
“I love the color on you.” My body flushes at his praise. He snaps the strap and kisses the sweet sting on my skin. “This is only for me, got it?”
My nod is fast and breathless.
His hand collars my throat tight enough to let me feel his strength. “You’re going to send me a snapshot of what you’re wearing every day. Just a tease. Nothing explicit. Just for me.”
He’s right out of my dark romance handbook. Thoughtful. Protective. Possessive. Obsessive.
“Only if you’re a good stalker,” I purr, rubbing against his hardness.
He nips my bottom lip. “You’re a brat, Glitter Bomb.”
“And you like it,” I fire back, feeling stronger and bolder by the second.
“I’ll teach that mouth to behave.” His mouth crushes mine, demanding but never cruel. I lose myself in the kiss until he pulls back and says, “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
I hold my breath and still, listening to his every word.
“You’re going to touch yourself for me.”
My nipples harden with need.
“You’re going to come on that finger.”
Oh, Grumpy Daddy, yes!
“And if you’re a good girl.” His voice thickens. “I’ll let you have my cock.”
Sweet. Merciful. God.
I love that he takes things slow for me and gives me room to find myself.
I don’t wait for permission and lower my fingers between my thighs.
“Yes, baby.” He grabs my spare wrist and presses it to his riding pants. “Feel what you do to me. Keep going.”
When I circle my clit, his breath catches. I hear the rustle of laces, boots thudding to the floor, the scrape of pants, and the shush of his shirt coming off. I rock over my fingers, flying closer to the edge.
“Don’t stop, Glitter Bomb,” he growls. “I want you to fall apart for me.”
I shatter with a cry of his name. But I’m not done yet. I lift my fingers to my lips, sucking them clean.
“Fuucckk,” he groans. “That’s it. Come here.”
Strong arms lift me, his mouth devouring mine. His cock pulses into my belly, and I grind into him, desperate for more.
“Such a good girl. You deserve a reward.” He brushes my cheek with a kiss. “Are you on birth control or do you want to use a condom?”
I stab a finger at the drawer.
“Don’t move,” he warns, “or I’ll make your ass as pink as your panties.”
