Page 38 of Ruthless Scar
“You’re analyzing my belt buckle.”
“Force of habit. It’s a very interesting mechanism.”
“It’s a belt.”
“A structurally sound one. Good engineering.”
Her voice is getting faster. Nervous.
I catch her wrist. Hold it still against my stomach.
“Breathe.”
One long exhale that shudders on the way out.
“I am breathing. I’m an excellent breather. Top tier lung capacity from all the?—”
“Isabella.”
She stops talking.
I guide her backward to the desk. She sits on the edge. I step between her legs. Face to face. No hiding.
Condom from my wallet. She holds steady while I open it. Neither of us speaks. The wrapper sounds too loud.
Her legs wrap around me, pulling me closer. Wet heat against my cock. My teeth grind together.
“Fuck.“ Wrenched out. She’s slick and hot against me and I haven’t even pushed inside yet.
I brace on either side of her hips because if I touch her I don’t trust my hands.
“You can touch me.” Her voice drops. “I didn’t break last time. I won’t break now.”
I trace up her thigh. Slow. Watching her face change with every inch. The catch in her breath. The way her lips part. I have no training for this.
I push into her. Inch by inch. Her head tips back. I catch it. My palm behind her skull, cradling. The same reflex I use when pinning someone against a surface. Except careful now. Protective.
“Fuck.” She gasps. “You. That.”
She can’t finish.
“Tell me.”
“Different. From this angle. Different.”
I move. She moves with me. Her eyes on mine. Her legs around me.
A groan tears out of me. Low. Involuntary. She’s tight. So fucking tight.
“You feel—” I can’t finish either. She’s ruined the sentence along with everything else.
Her fingers claw down my back. Her pussy grips me with every thrust and the desk creaks beneath us. One arm cradling her skull. The other braced against the wood, white-knuckled.
“Stay with me.” Her grip on my jaw. “Don’t disappear.”
How does she know?
I press my forehead to hers. Hold it there.
