The Scotch Queen (Scotch 2)

My heart still fluttered just as it did the first time he did it. I wished it wouldn’t, but I couldn’t control all the impulses my body made. I shut the book and rested it on my lap. “Get a lot of work done today?”

“Some.” His shirt was open, showing his perfectly chiseled physique. “Not as much as I would like.”

“Maybe you need to hire another Ariel.”

“I would if such a person existed.” He stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the armrest of the couch.

I tried not to stare at his glorious body, but that was nearly impossible to do. He was the sexiest man I knew for a reason. He was all muscle and skin, not an inch of fat anywhere. He had nice, toned arms, his muscles defined and powerful. I liked seeing him undress the second he came into the bedroom. He usually stripped down to his boxers and sometimes threw sweat pants on. I didn’t even realize I was biting my bottom lip until the light pressure became uncomfortable.

He slid his belt out of the loops then folded it in half. When he yanked on both sides, the leather smacked together and made a noticeable crack.

He hadn’t spanked me in a long time. Kinda missed it.

His pants and shoes came next before he sat beside me on the couch, glorious in just his boxers. His arm rested over the back of the couch, and he stared at the fire as the sun disappeared from the windows. It was nearly dark.

His hand moved to the back of my head, and he gently touched my hair, what he usually did when he was sitting beside me.

I felt the bumps sprinkle across my arms. I didn’t know if I was nervous about the fact that I was playing him or if it was because I actually felt something. The intensity of the emotions made it impossible to differentiate.

When I felt his gaze on me, my mouth went dry. My thighs automatically squeezed together, and I forgot about the book I was reading altogether. Couldn’t even remember what it was called.

His hand slowly turned my head so I would look him in the eye. His fingers dug into my hair as well as my scalp, exerting silent control over me without any resistance.

I met his look, seeing the bright irises surrounding the center of his eyes that were highlighted from the flames. I’d never cared for brown eyes, always preferring men with green or blue irises, but his were the prettiest I’d ever seen. They were the same color as the scotch he drank, and they suited him perfectly. The color was tuned to his dark mood, which sometimes lightened if he was having a good day.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my mouth dry. My nerves lit on fire, my fingertips burning as well as everything else. My thighs squeezed harder when the interaction began to feel like it was the first time we’d ever touched.

It was definitely the first time we ever touched like this.

He was different. I was different.

Everything was different.

His fingers fisted my hair, getting a tight grip before he leaned in and kissed me. It was a simple kiss without tongue, but it still took my breath away. His lips hardly moved with mine, and all the passion was felt in his restraint rather than his movements.

He pulled away and looked at me, but I knew that wasn’t the end of it. That was just a slow beginning—a slow burn that would turn into a roaring fire.

I yanked down the front of his boxers so his cock could come free. When I went down on him, his pleasure was always the biggest thing on my mind. I wanted to make him feel good, to make him come back to me instead of looking for sex elsewhere. But now I didn’t think about his pleasure or how this could forward my agenda.

I just wanted him in my mouth.

I leaned over and licked the head of his enormous cock, my ass in the air. His hand moved up my thigh and yanked my dress up so he could rub his hand over my ass. My hand wrapped around his impressive girth, and I slid most of his length inside my mouth, ignoring the uncomfortable stretching of my throat and just enjoying the way he tasted.

I loved the way he tasted.

His hand kept the hair out of my face, and he watched me with a stern jaw and a hard expression. His eyes followed every move I made, the arousal heavy in his eyes. When his breathing changed, I could hear it. Louder and louder it became as he enjoyed my wet mouth surrounding him.

I sucked the juice from his tip then pushed him as far back as my throat could handle, feeling my gag reflex struggle not to go off. I kept going because I wanted him, all of him.