Single Daddy Scot (Hot Scots)

‘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 needy. 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.

He holds me there for a beat before his guttural, ‘Fuck,’ and my moan hit the air together as his finger swipes through my slickness.

‘Fuck, that’s it,’ he repeats, his fingers spearing me. ‘Ride my hand, let me feel you like this.’

With just one swipe of his thumb against my clit, my legs begin to twitch.

‘Please,’ I pant almost wordlessly, the sound mostly breath as Mac’s thumb begins to move in small circles. I push against him, needing more—more pressure. More everything

‘One day, I’ll have you like this. Your hot pussy gripping my cock. I’ll spread you out and fuck you with my fingers in time with my cock.’

My insides pulse at the imagery as I realise what he means. Fingers and cock. Both. Inside me. The picture is so dirty. So seductive. ‘Can you come by words and imagination alone?’

His soft chuckle sounds at my ear, and I recognise the question wasn’t only in my head.

‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve needed hands and imagination when thinking of you.’

‘Y-you’ve imagined me? While touching yourself?’

‘I’ve imagined fucking you so many times with my cock in my hand. You’re the first thing I think of in the morning. The last thing I see before I sleep. And I will fuck you. But for now, I’ll make do with a taste of your sweetness.’

I almost cry as his fingers move out of my knickers, my body stilling as both thumbs hook the elastic at my hips. With more polish than I can appreciate currently, Mac slides down my body, skimming my underwear down my legs.

From his position behind me, he lifts my ankle, widening my stance. ‘Sweet girl. If only you could see what I see.’ His whisper is just a soft puff of breath between my legs. ‘You’re so pink and delicious. Luscious, I think is the word.’

‘Please,’ I whisper tremulously, desperate to feel him inside me. Desperate for some relief.

‘What is it you want, darlin’? My fingers or my mouth? His words are part tease, part gravel, as his fingers trail the backs of my thighs.

‘Your cock,’ I demand. At some point, I might be embarrassed. At some point, my cheeks will heat at the memory of my brazenness, but for now, I’ll say what I want as my core pulses emptily.

‘All in time, sweetheart.’ His mouth is hot and wet against my cheek, and I cry out as two fingers fill me where I feel hollow.

He works me wetly, the lewd sounds joining those of my pleasure as I cry out, the tone changing as my body edges orgasm. I’m close—so close, my cries taking on the edge of pain as his fingers slip from between my legs. But I don’t have a moment to suffer as, with a groan of appreciation, Mac’s tongue slips between my legs. One long lick and my fingernails are scraping the leather, my thoughts scattering. His hands spread me, his tongue swiping me again and again before he buries himself between my splayed legs. I’m no expert in the realms of sex, but I would have never imagined something could feel so all consuming. So intense. Between his flicking tongue and kissing lips, there’s the brush of stubble. The hint and threat of teeth. His whispered words of how I taste so sweet. How he can’t wait to fuck me. To fill me. How I’m his from now on to keep.