The Scotch Queen (Scotch 2)

Crewe looked like that no matter what.

I swallowed when I realized my mouth was dry. I was a prisoner to a royal criminal and I shouldn’t feel anything but fear and disgust, but I found myself feeling so many contradicting emotions that none of it made sense.

His slacks and shoes came off next, and he stood in his black boxers.

I finally looked away, not wanting to get caught looking.

“I know you like what you see.” He slowly walked toward where I sat on the couch. He had a noticeable V in his hips, lines caused by his tight abs. There was a distinct bulge in the front of his shorts, the outline of his long cock in the fabric.

“You shouldn’t make assumptions.”

He kneeled in front of me, his muscled mass coming into perfect view. He leaned in, one arm sitting on the armrest while the other touched my thigh. He looked at me with those light brown eyes, commanding me with just a look.

Now I couldn’t turn away.

He leaned farther in until our lips were just inches apart. “Shallow breathing. Dry mouth.” His hand squeezed the area just above my knee. “Quivering thighs.” He grabbed my wrist next and felt my pulse. “Rapid heart rate.”

I swallowed the shame as best I could.

He placed my hand over his chest, right over the skin where his heart was beating. “Rapid heart rate.” He pressed his lips to my ear, his breaths falling on my earlobe. “Shallow breathing.” He moved his mouth to mine and gave me a slow kiss. “Dry mouth.” He grabbed my hand and forced my palm over his definition in his boxers. “Raging cock.”

My hand automatically squeezed his length, my arousal making all the decisions for me. He was the biggest man I’d ever taken, but the painful stretching somehow felt incredible. I’d never been with a man like him before.

He leveled his face with mine. “Let’s be real with each other. Tell me you want me.”

I looked him in the eyes and didn’t hesitate. “I want you.”

His eyes became heavy-lidded, the answer obviously pleasing him. “I want you too.” He kissed me and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. “I don’t want any other man to have you because I want you all to myself.”

My hands moved into his hair, and I deepened the kiss, getting swept away by the arousal between my legs. He placed a transmitter inside my brother’s brain, but that didn’t stop me from wanting him. He kept me as his prisoner, but I still wanted to feel him between my legs. I hated this man, wished he were dead, but I still wanted to feel his come inside me.

Didn’t make any sense.

Crewe lifted me from the couch and set me on the bed. His boxers were off, and his hard cock was already oozing at the tip.

I unbuttoned my jeans and shoved them off, eager to get him inside me.

He grinned in his typically arrogant way before he helped me get my panties off. He didn’t bother with my shirt before he climbed on top of me and shoved himself deep inside my pussy. He was never gentle with me, fucking me like I didn’t mean a damn thing to him.

But I liked it.

I had a dream I walking down the road when a car sped by and slammed right into a tree.

I ran to the window to see if I could help whoever was behind the wheel, and I came face-to-face with my father. Eyes wide open with blood gushing down his face, he was already dead. My mother was in the passenger seat, a branch impaling her right through her stomach. I could smell the smoke from the engine and the blood from their wounds. In the back seat was Joey, a grown man as I last saw him. He was dead on impact. “Ahh!”

“London.” Crewe’s deep voice sounded in my ear, bringing me back to reality. “It’s a dream. Wake up.”

I kicked the sheets away like they were nets about to drag me underwater. Sweat was streaked up and down my arms and the backs of my thighs. I fought against an invisible foe, running from the car in my dream.

He grabbed me by both shoulders and shook me. “London, wake up.”

I finally opened my eyes and saw the dark bedroom around me. I knew I was with Crewe, but I couldn’t remember where. It was all a nightmare, a horrible dream that wasn’t real. I jumped out of bed and felt the cold draft since I was naked. I ran to the fireplace then darted to the couch, moving so I wouldn’t stand still. “Where am I?” This wasn’t Scotland. This wasn’t the island. I couldn’t remember where I was. I was still asleep.

“Italy.” Crewe got out of bed then slowly approached me, over six feet of pure man. “We came here to do business with Crow and Cane. You met them earlier today.” He kept his voice low as if that might keep me calm.