Page 64 of Single Daddy Scot
Chapter Twenty-Four
ELLA
‘You like heels,’ I murmur, struggling with my zip. Seduction fail number one; getting the lining of your pants stuck in your zip.
‘I like all kinds of things,’ Mac says, smiling. ‘And I look forward to sharing them with you.’ Gently replacing my fingers with his, he yanks, and the zipper moves like it should, but my pants don’t fall.
‘There’s a, er, hook and eye thingy.’
‘Will had no chance of getting into your knickers tonight, did he?’ His fingers ignite the skin of my waist as he unhooks the tiny mechanism.
‘Literally.’ I giggle, but Mac doesn’t join in. ‘None whatsoever,’ I reiterate. ‘I-it was a piece of madness.’ My wide-legged pants fall to my feet.
‘You were trying to make me jealous,’ he says all growly, his gaze thoroughly examining what’s on display.
‘I wasn’t.’ It’s true. I just couldn’t stay here with him. And why is he only looking—not touching? My whole body trembles in anticipation of the brush of his fingers. The feel of his tongue.
‘Then why?’
‘Because you’d never be mine, not really. And seeing you with Fin. I had to get out of the house.’
‘You should’ve called your friend.’ His tone borders on a reprimand, his eyes still branding my skin. ‘But, Christ, you are lovely.’But not his type, whispers my doubt. ‘I’ve wondered what kind of knickers you’d wear.’ His revelation makes me smile quite suddenly.
‘I like frilly fripperies as much as the next girl.’
‘So I see.’ His hand skims the cream lace between my legs, and I close my eyes. It’s all I can do to stop from throwing myself at him.
‘Do you approve?’ I ask all breathlessly, like a damsel in distress and heaving chest.
‘More than you know,’ he answers cryptically.
‘But the question remains,’ he continues ponderingly, ‘if you’re the type of girl who wears matching underwear.’
In a move far too bold for Raphaela Alescio, I cross my arms at my waist and lift my camisole over my head.
‘You are like a wet fucking dream.’
His dark lashes flicker once, twice, before our mouths meet. Tasting, teasing, there’s a hint of tongue, which I return, sighing. Moaning. My fingers clutching the front of his shirt as our kiss deepens. And when he hums in appreciation, the deep vibration echoes in my pussy.
‘Oh, Mac, I want you.’ My whispers hit the air between desperate kisses. ‘Please, touch me.’ Never have I felt the kind of all-consuming need I feel around him. ‘You make me feel desperate. Want things I can’t even describe.’
‘Try,’ he growls, his kisses traversing my jaw and neck. ‘Tell me how you see us fucking. Tell me how you want me your first time.’
‘Here,’ I whisper. ‘I want you to fuck me here.’ I feel so desperate, my body aches like never before. Uncurling my hand from the front of his shirt, I take his fingers in mine, feeding both between my legs. ‘Here,’ I say, covering his hand with mine, rocking against him. ‘I want to feel you here, Mac. Please, fuck me.’
He cups me, pushing his fingers up against my seam and his palm against my pussy. ‘Fuck, your knickers are wet.’
Oh. My. God. Nothing in my life has ever sounded so awestruck and growly and just as hot as this.
‘You’re so warm and wet and fucking luscious. I want you so badly, but not like this the first time.’ I make a noise that’s part desperate moan, part complaint as I push against his hand, grinding my need against him. ‘I know, sweetness, but not tonight. I don’t think I could hold back just now.’
‘I don’t want you to.’ In fact, I’m sure I’d let him fuck me in the position of his choosing in broad daylight in the middle of Camden market, I’m so desperately swollen and need. So very turned on.
Before I realise he’s done so, he curls his hand around my shoulder, turning me and bending me over the sofa back.
‘You drive me fucking insane.’ His mouth is hot against my ear, his crotch at my arse.
But I can’t answer him with anything but my body as I push back against him, delirious at the prospect of him filling me. My fingers grip the soft leather, my pebbled nipples chaffed by my lacy bra. I’ve never felt so animal, so desperate, panting and wordless at the press of his hot mouth at my neck. I cry out as his teeth skim my bare shoulder, dragging one bra strap across my skin as his hands pull my breasts free of the confines of lace. I squirm as he pinches my nipples, his hardness rubbing against the crack of my bum. But then, as one hand skims my stomach and slides under the elastic at my waist, I still.
