Love Scars:Bad Boy's Bride(2)

By: Nicole Snow

“Well, babe? You gonna give me an answer or you just want to toy with me all fucking night?” He rolled forward, pushing his legs against my ass. I sensed the bulge between them and gasped.

God help me. Revulsion should've been the only thing warming my blood. But it wasn't, not when it was mixed with obvious heat, fiery excitement prickling at my nerves.

“Go to hell!” I spat. “Who do you think you are to ask me that when we've just met? I'm not a piece of meat!”

“You're too fucking cute,” he said, pushing his hot whispers into my ear. “Why the fuck do you think you're here, Anna? Enlighten me.”

I shuddered. Much as I didn't want to admit it, the bastard was here because a deal had gone down. Nothing else explained why he knew my name, or why my father's men had let him slip past to take me.

“I was ordered,” I said. “When my Dad talks, I listen. I do what I need to for the good of our family.”

“Ah, family. I can appreciate that. Family shit's why I'm here too, feeding my lust into your hot little ear. You feel it, babe? No?” His hands slowly slid down toward my waist, squeezing tighter, stopping just above intimate flesh. “Look, we're all in the same biz here, baby girl. Just not on the same team. Now, shut the fuck up and give me a kiss. I like to sample what I've bought before I take full possession.”

Before I could say anything, he twisted my head. His lips connected with mine. They were remarkably smooth, cool as the darkness. I grunted, pushed against him, craning my neck.

His tongue pushed into my mouth, deepening the kiss.

Slippery, hot, arousing.

Damn! My body betrayed me. I started to go slack when I should've resisted, melting into the mad wonder of my tenth kiss. The last nine I'd had earlier in life were wasted on a short-lived fling with a movie star's son my Senior year.

This was so different, and not just because I couldn't see who the hell I was kissing, not just due to the dingy surroundings screwing with my head. I didn't need to see him to sense his fire, his strength.

His lips and tongue told me I wasn't kissing a boy. I was locking lips with a man, a veteran brute so big and strong he must've had at least ten years on me.

Jesus. Why does he taste so good?

I choked on the insanity, tearing myself away as his tongue stopped swirling. More baritone laughter, spilling into the shadows all around us, giving them a voice.

“Goddamn. You taste amazing, love. Pure. With lips like that, your pussy's gotta be pure heaven, wine and nectar made for my fucking lips. Open those legs, girl. Right now.” He swung his hips against me.

I thrashed once when I felt his hardness. Damn if my knees didn't shake apart, spreading my legs, making just enough room for him to slide his hand up my bare thigh.

Maybe I could've stopped if I'd worn something other than this thin night gown.

Idiot! I would've packed more if I had any clue it was going to come to this. But it was all I brought for nightwear, one of the only things in my tiny suitcase that comforted me in this strange new hell.

Heat pulsed through me, swirling up my head and zipping down again, coalescing in a molten pool between my legs.

So hot. So wet. So out of character it was scaring me.

Jesus. Who is he? What's he done to me?

I started to shake in his arms. For a second, he lightened his touch, gingerly moving one finger up and down the slit of my damp panties.

Then, whatever spell my fear created was broken. He grunted, pouring hot breath on my bare shoulder, kissing and nipping at my skin as his fingers flicked thin cotton fabric to the side.

He brushed my bare, virgin wetness up and down, gliding through the very edges of my folds with expert balance.

My brain sank to my core, buried in the fiery shame and pleasure competing to devour me.

“That's it, love. Open your sweet ass up for me. It's not gonna hurt one bit. You obeyed your asshole old man, yeah? You'll listen to me too.” He pushed his fingers against me a little faster, tighter, stopping to rest one tip on my clit. “You're a lucky girl. I actually want to take this kinda slow and savor it. First chick in a long while I haven't just thrown face first to the mattress and fucked like a whore. You're something special. Just don't let it go to your head. I'm not singing you sonnets before we fuck.”

Bastard! Sicko! Strange...strange man...

I whimpered, words to chastise him I tried to get out disintegrating into moans. I couldn't think straight when he started to make circles around my clit, stirring the flames higher, making them arc up and down my nerves in waves.

I stumbled. When I fell forward, he caught me. I always thought people had sex in bed, or maybe the shower. The stranger proved me wrong, holding me upright with one hand around my waist, locking me against his rock hard torso as he fingered, pinched, and flicked my clit, working it like he'd known my body his whole life.

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