Page 101 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“How dare you threaten me,” I growl out, shaking my head. “You know what? You can go fuck yourself. I love to be fucked, but I certainly won’t be bossed around like hired help. Find another fuckgirl, Aspen Kelly.”
I start to move away from him, sliding my phone from my pocket as I go. I can see just by glancing at it that I’ve got about a dozen messages from Nisha and Bastian, Jennifer, a few of the other girls.
I’m safe, I send, and then, as I’m typing out, come pick me up, I’m grabbed by the arm and spun around. My phone falls out of my hand and lands in a puddle, but fuck it, it’s waterproof.
Aspen—or Ash or whatever the fuck he wants me to call him—yanks me against him, his strong fingers gripping my upper arms, and claims my mouth with a full dose of venom. He bites my lower lip, injecting that wild obsession into my bloodstream, making me ache with it.
“Palms flat on the hood,” he whispers, putting his mouth near my ear. “I’m going to eat that sweet pussy while you appreciate the lines of my car.”
He releases me, slipping the condom into his pocket as he waits to see if I’ll do it.
I’m annoyed, but I’m also intrigued. With a look of pure challenge on my face, I accept his offer. Ignoring the rain, ignoring the distant crack of thunder, the flash of lightning that lights up the Springfield city skyline. It used to be relatively flat, full of one- and two-story buildings, even in the downtown area.
But recently? There are all sorts of skyscrapers going up.
None of that is my problem currently. My only problem is the heat of Aspen’s hands as he reaches out and drags down the side zipper of my cigarette pants, wrenching them over my ass as I curl my fingers against the warm hood.
There’s this sharp, almost angry sound that he makes when he sees that I’m not wearing any panties, a sound that I know will stick in my mind forever. Somewhere between a growl and a groan, the noise is primal and basic, and nothing like the polished, slick exterior he presents to the world.
His hand cups me from behind and he gives my pussy a squeeze, making me squirm and rub against him.
“Shit, I didn’t expect to feel quite like this.” He strokes me with long, elegant fingers, from my clit to my ass, commanding the slick arousal to wet my folds, to ready me for his eventual entry into my snug cunt.
I want it so bad that I almost beg for it, for his cock, just to see how big it is, how long, how wide. But I also want to know what that imperious mouth will feel like when he gets to his knees in the mud and services me with it.
“So silky, so soft, so hot.” He shoves a single finger in, all the way to the knuckle, and I gasp. My head hangs down, my dark braid coiled on the silver and black hood. The cars we race at the track are practically hot enough to fuck all on their own. Add in a warm-blooded man with careful fingers and a bossy, aristocratic lilt, one that’s kissed with the faintest tease of a British accent?
I’m sold. I could come from that alone. I start to move my hips, sliding up and down that single finger while Aspen holds completely still.
“Give me your tongue,” I murmur, riding his hand hard and fast, lifting my head up to see if I can’t make out his reflection in the wet surface of his windshield. I can just barely see him, a dark shadow in a white sweater, unmoving, unyielding, like a shadow sucking away all of the light.
It’s fairly dark out already but, as we’re standing there, the nearest streetlamp flickers and goes black. Not surprising, considering we’re in the southside. Happens all the time.
But it’s like, as soon as that last light is snuffed out, the real Aspen comes out. I figure he must be channeling his brother, Ash, in some sort of fucked-up tribute.
Because he must’ve known what he was doing when he threw that race. He must’ve known that I’d go after him, right? Was he offering his brother’s head up willingly to the guillotine? Or is he ignorant enough to think that I won’t take this to the next level?
Whatever his motivations, I don’t care.
All I care about is that when he slides his finger from my heat, he immediately drops to his knees and replaces it with his tongue. His hands clamp down on my hips, fingers digging into my pelvic bone on either side as he tastes me like I belong to him.
There’s no hesitation there the way some of my girls describe when their fuckboys or boyfriends or whatever go down on them, like they’re afraid to get their face wet. I can feel his nose as he buries himself in my cunt, thrusting his tongue inside of me first thing.
